Reilly 12 - Show No Fear (27 page)

N
INA LEFT THE OFFICE FAST.
R
UNNING TO HER CAR, SHE
unlocked it with fumbling fingers and flew down the road, questions popping like blood vessels in her brain. The car heat kicked in, but she didn’t stop shivering for the few blocks it took to reach Scenic Drive and Remy’s house. She parked on the ocean side of the street, deserted at this hour, under a white streetlight that neatly mimicked the moon hovering above.

She knocked. After a long time the porch light came on. The door opened, and Remy stood before her, backlit, wearing white now, a silk nightgown with ruffles and tie and God knew what else, all a mystery to Nina, who wore tank tops and bikini panties to bed. Remy’s legs were lean and her knees had just the right bony look. It occurred to Nina, as she greeted Remy and walked into her living room, that a man might be expected. But they seemed to be alone.

“Sit down.” Remy’s voice was soft. Nina heard her own breath coming out in rough gasps. “Can I get you something?” Now Remy openly studied Nina, languorous hand touching one hip.

“I found my mother’s file. You shouldn’t have thrown it away. We have rules about that.”

Remy looked down at her pink toenails. When she looked up
again, Nina saw a face flash she’d never seen before, hard and skeletal, then the old Remy, slightly interested looking, returned. “We have rules, you’re right about that. You were hunting for that? Why?”

“Something was wrong.”

“You couldn’t leave it alone. I know that feeling.” Remy was nodding. “So?”

“I want you to get dressed and come with me to talk to Paul.”

“About what?”

“About the date on the claim letter.”

“What about it?”

“How stupid do you think I am?”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re stupid. In fact, I should congratulate you. You’re a bulldog.”

“You’re a murderer. You—you killed my mother. Do you—”

“Don’t go all emotional on me, please. Let’s talk this through. Sit down. Let me explain.”

Thrown off by Remy’s calm, Nina tried to ignore the acid rising in her mouth. “Astrid typed that letter the day I was making Bob’s costume on Halloween, which was past the ninety-day deadline for a claim letter. You committed malpractice. You were in Sacramento when it should have gone out.” They stood in Remy’s house at the foot of a wide oak stairway, next to glass shelves full of translucent, vividly hued objects. Nina couldn’t believe how warm Remy kept her house. She felt circles of sweat pooling under her arms. “It never got sent.”

“Richard knew,” Nina went on. “Of course he knew it was late, he would have been watching for it, counting down the hours until the ninety-day time limit for a claim letter went by.”

Remy said, “I gave it to Astrid in time. That love-crazed fool. I couldn’t even fire her ass without drawing attention to myself. She put it at the bottom of her stack and didn’t give it to me to sign until it was too late.”

“It was your responsibility,” Nina said.

Remy gave a little shake of her head. “Precisely.”

“You should have shredded the original after you killed Richard and—and—”

“I should have. But Astrid does the shredding. How odd it would look, me working away at the shredding machine behind her desk. I could have gone in after hours, but—made a mistake there. Didn’t expect a Dumpster diver. Come on. I’d like to try to make you understand. I know you have—had—a good opinion of me.”

Remy paused, her long white arm rummaging in a drawer. Nina had time to wipe her forehead with her fingers, amazed at the effort needed to mount the dark steps her mind was climbing.

“Maybe I should apologize. Would that help?”

“No,” Nina said, looking at the nickel-plated Colt in Remy’s hand, then at Remy’s face, which glowed like a death mask in a cave, quite elegant if you were a ghoul.

“Just found it and came running over here to tell me to turn myself in? Wanted to give me a chance to be classy about it?”

“Jack knows,” Nina said through dry lips.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Remy said, smiling. “He’s got more experience than you. He wouldn’t have let you come here at all. Why didn’t your mother listen to me? She wanted a referral to another lawyer, who would certainly spot my error. And then she would have sued me for legal malpractice. I couldn’t take that chance, Nina. It would have meant the end to my hopes for a judgeship.” She gestured. “Sit down. Listen to me.”

“Put the gun down and we’ll talk.”

“Sit or I’ll shoot you now.”

Nina sat. Fright hammered a hole in her chest. Remy wanted her dead. She held a gun. She might shoot any second—

Remy looked at her for what seemed like a long time. “You’re a woman. You know what it’s like. But you grew up here, didn’t you, in one of the most desirable, privileged places to live on earth.

“I came from nothing. My parents were both addicts. I took care of them, then I proved myself in law school every day by being more intelligent, more diligent, more competent, more. Now you give me these looks, like I’m nothing all of a sudden? You condescend? You’re a single mom, struggling. Oh, everyone thinks you are so special. You’re so tough. Well, your ass belongs in the trash heap and I plan to put it there. I am much more important than you, Nina.”

Nina started to speak but Remy waved the gun almost playfully, closing one eye, aiming at Nina’s head.

“I had some problems in Chicago. I moved here, and for the first time everything that I was working for, everything that I was or ever wanted heaped itself on my plate. Klaus hired me, liked me, even respected me. He was my father. Jack, well I wanted him to want me and he did. And then Paul. Did he ever sleep with you? I loved having him and having Jack. For a while, both of them.”

Nina couldn’t remove her eyes from the steady white hand holding the gun. Remy would shoot her, probably soon. She tensed, readying herself to make a rush for it. If she got a chance.

The corners of Remy’s mouth rose. “Here in California, there was this pretense that women got to play by the same rules as the men, which I bought until I realized that it was the same old same old. So I learned the local moves. I faked my way in. I played and won a few times. I developed a taste for blood sports.” Remy laughed a little. “It wasn’t just a job. Think what I was accomplishing. This was not your new kitchen stove—this was something for all of us. I never doubted there would be sacrifices. For you, you idiot. Every woman judge is a miracle. I’m not talking about traffic cases either. Superior Court. Then the Court of Appeals. I could go all the way. It’s where the power is, Nina.” Remy’s mood seemed to change and she said almost pleadingly, “I wanted you to strive for it like I have. Forgive me for doing something necessary. Your mother didn’t have long.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Nina said, trying hard to keep her voice from shaking. “Get you a great criminal-defense lawyer. You had a breakdown, that’s what happened.”

Remy put a finger to her lips and seemed to be considering this. Then she said in a reasonable tone, “Think like a lawyer, Nina. You know how hard it is to win with an insanity defense. They’d put me in an institution at best. I’d rather die, myself. What use would all my effort be?”

“Let me help you.”

“I killed your mother. And you want to help me. Sure. Why did you do this to yourself? Why? I liked you. My God, I’m going to
have to figure out how to get rid of you now without implicating myself. How could you set yourself up for this? Damn you!”

When Nina stood up, her mouth open, Remy reached to the lamp table with the hand that was not holding the gun, picked up a copy of
Witkin’s California Evidence
and swung it like a sword, cutting edge out, with both hands, into Nina’s skull. Nina’s eyes closed, and she fell hard against one arm of the chair before reaching the floor. “Besides the built-in disadvantage of being female, besides being so fucking small, you’re slow, Nina.” The words faded as she crashed. “That’s why you would never have made it as a lawyer. You have to think on your feet.”

W
ELL, EITHER
N
INA DIDN’T LIKE HIM, WHICH HE DID NOT
accept, or she had some mysterious business that didn’t involve him, Jack thought, feeling the effects of an evening of the Sangiovese wine.

After stopping at a bar and visiting with some people he knew, he decided to buzz by Remy’s place on his way home, hoping not to have to face any more unpleasant surprises in that department. But he needed to know if Paul’s car was outside.

When he pulled up to Remy’s gray and burgundy-trimmed house on Scenic Drive, he spotted Nina’s MG and Remy’s Acura, but no lights were on in the front room. The women must be sitting in the dark. Mysterious. Remy’s house had a wall of glass looking over the ocean, which she covered with blinds at night. Any light behind them would easily be visible for miles on a clear night at sea, hence, no light.

What the hell? Remy and Nina having a chat late at night, post-party? He found it hard to picture, but then again, Remy had been Nina’s mentor and was leaving. Maybe she had a few more words of wisdom to impart.

He walked up to the door. He knocked. No answer. He walked back toward the side yard, but couldn’t get in through the locked
gate. He could see clearly enough into the front by bending his head down to peek through the slatted blinds. Nobody inside.

He walked back toward his car, which he had parked on the ocean side of the street. He started to put the key in his locked door, glancing out toward the water at the silver stream of moonlight. He would sit here, he decided, and listen to music. Watching for them both, for Remy, for Nina. But it was late, and the music and rhythmic pounding made him sigh, yawn, and finally slide down into his seat to doze.

Nina woke up propped by the front door. She tried not to moan. Where was Remy? There was no sign of her. The house was quiet. Her legs seemed to be working. She pulled herself quietly to her feet and opened the door. She had to get to her car, go to the police. The churning wind off the ocean cut her to her bones. With the occasional headlights, small pools of gold below the streetlights, and this moon, she would be as visible as any star in a spotlight. Moving uncertainly across a driveway, she stepped slowly, and then started running.

Another hard whack to her head sent her reeling. Remy had swooped out of a dark alley from the home next door. She pushed Nina’s face down on the grass, jabbing her knee into Nina’s back. She wound her sash around Nina’s hands. The moon disappeared behind a flowering cloud. There was a moment of silence between waves when the wind halted. Nina cried out.

“Shut up!” Remy hissed, pressing her knee harder into Nina’s back.

“She wouldn’t have sued you. She wouldn’t have because I wouldn’t have let her—bad law. She might not win a legal malpractice case—”

“—if the underlying cause of action was no good,” Remy finished. “Don’t tell me the law. But she wouldn’t have listened to you. She didn’t listen to me when I explained. She would have found a lawyer slavering for a crack at me, at my assets and reputation.”

A second passed, and another sound came, that of a large vehicle lumbering along the ocean road. “And now we need to shut you
up. Don’t want to disturb the neighbors.” Remy hammered a fist into Nina’s back for emphasis.

A truck, moving slowly along the opposite side of the winding road, made its way past the women on the sidewalk. Another car racketed by, and another. Nina, her arms breaking and her mind thick, wondered what they could be doing out at this hour. The moon reappeared. The stark outline of houses and cars in complete relief inspired her to scan the street for a light, for another soul, but it was too late for the locals. They were all sleeping; the crashing of the surf just across the street had drowned out the sounds of her struggle.

At that moment, she thought she spotted Jack’s car down the street, but she could see no one in it.

Remy saw her looking that way and said, “They’re never really around when you need them, are they?” Her hands held Nina’s arms in a steel lock.

“Richard tried to—” Nina repeated.

“Offered to work with me on that. He wanted money and my favors and client referrals and a free ride for the rest of his life. He wanted to own me. Nobody owns me. I did you a favor there.” As Remy spoke, she pushed Nina closer to the edge of the sidewalk. Nina saw why. A white limousine sped toward them, barely making the curves. Remy untied the scarf. Nina straightened her arms, throwing her hands down, trying to shake Remy off, but Remy held her. She twisted madly, but Remy did not let go.

Another second and the limo, accelerating into a curve from the far side of the street, hurtled toward them. “Bye-bye,” whispered Remy, kicking the back of Nina’s knees and shoving her into the street.

Nina jumped into the push and heard with surprise a second later the crash that should have killed her. She cried out as a thousand whips slit through her back. She was down, thrashing through the branches of a tree the limo had destroyed instead, pulling herself up in time to watch the truant limo back up into the street and wobble away without even a wave.

She got up and stood, not very steadily. Still here, she thought.
She felt possessed by a massive calm. It was an anger she felt, but so deep it was neither hot nor cold; it was a force, a purpose, not to be denied.

She moved back toward Remy’s house, unstoppable. Remy wasn’t getting away. Her mother was with her. Nina felt like the Angel of Death.

The door flew open. Remy was holding a pair of jeans. She took a second to review the situation, flattened Nina like a linebacker, and breezed down the beach stairs and onto a slippery, low rock pier that extended into the surf in front of her house.

Nina crossed the street to the hillside, saw Remy on the rocks below, and went there.

She reached the pier, made of riprap that some engineer must have thought would look natural, not much use in high tide. Remy stood on a rock, poised to leap toward the sandy shoreline along the surf. Nina put her hand up to call, she didn’t know what, when, without warning, out of the blackness of the ocean a hooded rogue wave broke and rushed across the low pier and knocked Remy down.

For a moment there was only surf. When it receded, Remy was no longer on the pier.

Nina stared dumbfounded at the ocean, which had intervened so unexpectedly. She scanned the waves for a head, anything, but a momentary gloom made it impossible to see. Suddenly, as if in reply to her whispered messages, the moon obliged, coming out from hiding to shine on a rough ocean. There, between pointed stars of small whitecaps, out beyond the rocks, a head bobbed. Remy had been swept—or maybe just jumped—into the water.

“Help! Help!” Nina called out to the deserted night. The surf acted like white noise, covering her cries. She slipped and slid as far out on the pier as she could, to the last barnacles, spotted Remy’s head again beyond the first set of breakers, spread her arms like a butterfly, and belly flopped into a wave.