An Imperfect Process (39 page)

Yawning, Kendra went outside for the newspaper while her breakfast coffee brewed. Back in her kitchen, she almost splashed coffee all over the counter when she spotted the blaring headline, GUILT DISPUTED AS EXECUTION DATE APPROACHES.

Good God, after only three days? Heart hammering, she sat down and began skimming the story. Or rather, stories. A1 and his interns had done a great job of pulling together the history of the case and the new evidence. All the major players who were still alive were quoted. The coverage benefited by the fact that it wasn't competing with any major national news stories. Heaven be thanked for the late summer doldrums.

The main story jumped inside to a double-page spread filled with related stories. The question of guilt or innocence provided tons of human interest, and A1 Coleman was wringing out every morsel.

Cal Murphy and Val were quoted, as was the retired lawyer who had prosecuted the case. The latter unfortunately still thought that Daniel was guilty and should have been executed long since. The state's attorney agreed, upholding her predecessor despite the new evidence that had surfaced. Kendra grimaced. Pit bull attack skills were an asset to a prosecutor, and the current state's attorney was a classic example.

Officer Malloy's widow also rated some ink. She said that having seen the videotape of Joe Cady, she believed that Daniel Monroe might well be innocent, and she didn't want to see him executed if there was reasonable doubt.
Bless you, Anne Malloy Peterson.

Jason and Kendra got two columns of their own. She'd lent Al Coleman two photographs. One showed Daniel playing with Jason, an archetypal doting young father. The other was of Jason in uniform, looking grave and handsome, a young man dedicated to serving his country.

Coleman had called Jason in Colorado and got some good sound bites, including her son saying, "This has changed the way I think about capital punishment. I used to think that murderers deserved what they got. But what if they aren't really murderers?"

There was a sidebar on Rob, too. Kendra sucked in her breath when she read his real name and history. He must have told Coleman about his past for it to be in the paper in this first barrage of news. Coleman summarized the Avenging Angel story to explain why Baltimore's Graffiti Guy had been drawn to investigate an old murder case. A file photo of a bearded Rob painting out graffiti was included, along with a quote from him that said, "There was no question of my brother's guilt. There is an enormous question about Daniel Monroe's."

She sent Rob a blessing for being willing to let his past be revealed. He had even been present at his brother's execution. How had he been able to bear it?

She was trying not to imagine what it would be like to watch Daniel die when her doorbell rang. Grateful for an interruption, she opened the front door.

On her doorstep stood a perky young woman with a television transmission truck from a local station parked on the street. "Ms. Brooks? I'm Sandy Hairston, and we'd like to interview you about the Daniel Monroe case."

Kendra tried to remember if she had ever been that young and perky. Probably not, but underneath her perkiness the girl was a competent reporter. "I know who you are, Ms. Hairston, and I'd be happy to talk to you. Can I have five minutes to get myself looking respectable?"

"Can you make it three?" the girl said without losing her smile. "Charm City News wants to be the first to get you on the air."

"Understood. One swipe of lipstick, and I'll be right out." Kendra dashed to the bathroom to check her appearance. Not bad. The cornrows were a bit funky, but she otherwise looked earnest and intelligent, not the kind of loony woman who specialized in falling in love with prisoners. She put on the lipstick, then headed outside again.

Time to find out how much power the press really had.

* * *

When Val opened the newspaper in her kitchen, she whooped so loudly that both cats temporarily bolted from their food dishes. The
Sun
had done the story proud. Daniel's guilt or innocence would be the talk of the Maryland legal establishment today. This morning she would deliver her petition for review by the Court of Appeals. She hoped the judges who would rule on her petition would feel enlightened rather than coerced by the publicity.

Feeling more optimistic than she had since the night when Rob had split, she decided to drive over to Springlake Way when she left her house. It wasn't her usual route, but she was curious which house had interested him.

Several blocks of the street had a grassy median with trees and a chain of pretty little ponds, but only one of the handsome residences in that section was for sale. She pulled over in front of the house to study it, not surprised to find that Rob had good taste. She had admired this house herself in the past.

For a brief, painful moment she imagined living there with Rob. It was a good size for raising children....

Before she could become maudlin, she saw that an Under Contract banner had been slapped across the sign. So much for fantasies of her and Rob in this particular house. Real estate was the least of their problems at this point.

She tested the idea of marriage, like pushing her tongue against a sore tooth. Was it maybe a little less alarming than it had been the other night?

A little. Maybe. Much as she missed him, the thought of marriage still made her feel suffocated. With a sigh, she pulled away from the curb and turned on her radio, just in time to catch a news story about Daniel's possible innocence.

At least something was going right.

* * *

When Val returned from filing her appeal papers, she remarked to Kendra, "One advantage of working downtown was how much closer the courthouse was."

Kendra glanced up from her computer. "Want me to list all the disadvantages to being downtown?"

"No need. I remember them all vividly." Val gestured at the newspaper on Kendra's desk. "Great coverage. A1 Coleman must have worked nonstop."

"No time to waste on this story." Kendra rolled her chair back from the desk, suppressing a yawn. "He really lit a brushfire. I've been interviewed by two different TV stations and calls have been coming in all morning. Not all from local journalists, either. Some of the calls were for me and some for you. There's a pile of messages on your desk. Two of them are from downtown lawyers who would like to do some
pro bono
work with you. You're going to end up with an empire, girl."

Glad she had finished her petitions so she had time to talk to reporters today, Val headed back to her office. As

Kendra had implied, most of the messages were from journalists, but a couple were normal business.

For starters, she returned a call from the lawyer of Mia Kolski's ex-husband. "Hi, Barney, it's Val Covington. Is your client ready to deal?"

"Steve is ready to deal," the lawyer said wryly. "He decided to reevaluate his legal strategy when faced with possible criminal fraud charges. As a human being I'll admit this is good, but dammit, Val, you just closed down my youngest kid's college fund. I made a ton of money off of Steve."

She laughed. "If he has a litigious nature, no doubt you'll be seeing him again. I don't care what he does as long as he stops harassing Mia. So what are the details?"

After a brisk round of negotiating, she said good-bye to the lawyer and called Mia, whose squeal of glee could be heard in Delaware. "Val, you are a saint, a godsend. What can I ever do to repay you for getting that albatross off my neck?"

Val thought about it. "How about if you provide live music for say, three parties of mine in the future? I'll look terribly classy without spending a cent."

"You've got it. Don't you have an open house coming up for the new office this Friday? I can get together a trio or quartet by then, no problem."

"So soon? It's a deal." After settling the details, Val called the next message on the list, her long-time client Bill Costain. "Hi, Bill, it's Val. What can I do for you?"

"I won't be able to come to the open house this Friday."

"That's too bad. I was hoping to show off my new place. Why not come by for a private tour another day and after I'll take you to lunch?" she suggested. "After all, you're my biggest client."

"Val..."

Hearing a strained note in his voice, she said, "Is something wrong?"

"Val... my wife was a Malloy." Costain drew a deep breath. "Jim Malloy was her favorite cousin. She's usually pretty easygoing, but when she read the paper this morning and saw that you're trying to get Daniel Monroe off death row, she went ballistic. She... she demanded that I fire you."

Val gasped, caught completely off-guard. A dozen retorts occurred to her, starting with the basic legal belief that everyone was entitled to a good defense and ending with the fact that even Jim Malloy's widow was willing to say Daniel might be innocent. But Sally Costain's reaction wasn't about logic, and Bill didn't need for her to make this worse.

After drawing a deep breath, she said, "Baltimore is such a small town. I had no idea that Sally was a Malloy. Of course this is a painful topic for her. I'll really miss working with you, but mediation begins at home."

He sighed with relief. "Thanks for being so understanding, Val. Maybe later, when this has all settled down, I'll give you a call."

Or maybe not. After hanging up, Val closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. The high she'd gotten from resolving Mia's case certainly hadn't lasted long. From the moment she decided to go out on her own, she had been counting on making good, steady money from Bill's company. That revenue would not be easily replaced. Though she was far from destitute, she didn't have a lot of ready cash since most of her net worth was tied up in her house and retirement accounts.

She pulled out her calculator and roughed up some figures. The first chunk of money from Rainey's movie had gone to set up the office, buy furniture and equipment, subscribe to legal databases, and the other costs of establishing a business, including setting aside six months of running costs for the office. She had to pay Kendra's salary, taxes, medical coverage for both of them, insurance, utilities, rent, and upkeep.

There would probably be another good-sized payment from the movie in a year or so. She would also earn some money from the cases she was continuing with Crouse, Resnick. Nonetheless, without steady work from Bill Costain, she would soon have to go out and hustle for bread-and-butter clients.

She grimaced. It had been a nice fantasy to think hustling wouldn't be necessary. For a tough lawyer, she could be awfully naive. Callie's influence, no doubt.

Well, she would do what was needed. Even in this short time, she had developed a taste for self-employment. For now, though...

She checked her schedule. There was nothing critical this afternoon. A couple more calls needed to be returned, and then she could play hooky for a few hours. She needed a break after working nonstop for too long.

Hoping Lyssie was in, she called her little sister. When Lyssie answered, Val said, "Hi, hon, it's me. I know we don't have anything planned till the weekend, but since you're going back to school next week, and I have a desperate desire to get away for a bit, would you like to go on an expedition? If your grandmother agrees, of course."

"What kind of expedition?" Lyssie asked cautiously.

Val thought fast. "How about if I drive us up to Harpers Ferry? You like history and there's plenty of it there. We can have lunch, look at the historic sites, poke around the shops a bit."

"Oh,
yes
! I'd really like that."

"Do you think your grandmother would like to go? I think she would enjoy Harpers Ferry. My treat for us all."

"I'll ask her, but she isn't feeling well. Just a second." Lyssie put the phone down and scampered off. A couple of minutes passed before she returned. "She says I can go, and to bring her back a surprise."

"I'm sure that can be arranged." Val glanced at the clock. "I need to return a couple of calls, then go home and change. How about if I pick you up in about an hour?"

"I'll be ready."

Lyssie would be, too; she was admirably punctual. Val returned to her message pile and sorted out the most important. This big sister business had all kinds of dividends she hadn't expected in the beginning. It was nice to have a playmate.

Rob had been a great playmate—but Val refused to go there. Life was complicated enough already.

* * *

Buying a house could be done with remarkable speed, Rob learned. Even though the sellers had moved to the West Coast, the wonders of fax and electronic fund transfers solidified the deal quickly. Inspection and financing contingencies still needed to be satisfied, but that should be routine. Plus, the sellers agreed to let Rob use the guest cottage until settlement.

So he was a homeowner. Almost, anyhow. When he stopped by the real estate agency to pick up the key to the guest house, he said, "I think I'm supposed to start feeling buyer's remorse about now, but so far, not a trace."

The agent laughed. "Remorse isn't required. It's a fine house in a beautiful neighborhood, and you got it for a good price. You'll be happy there, I'm sure."

So was he, though not as happy alone as he would have been with Val. He had managed to avoid seeing her for several days, and that would be even easier after he relocated to the guest cottage. He wondered if he would be able to move out of the church apartment without her noticing. Probably not.