Twist of Fate (4 page)

∗ ∗ ∗

Rob watched the burgundy-colored Lexus turn south on Old Harford Road, wondering if she had bought the car to match her hair. Even with a schoolmarm hairstyle and her sexy little body disguised in a severely cut navy suit, Val Covington crackled with physical and mental energy. She must be hell on heels in a courtroom.

How long was it since he had been so aware of a woman? Years. Four years, three months, and seven days, to be exact. Not that he was counting. He was glad that she appreciated the church's uniqueness, but it was just as well she wasn't interested in renting. If she were that near, she would be a temptation.

Yet he couldn't resist going up to his apartment and plugging "Val Covington" into a search engine. He got plenty of hits, mostly in the
Daily Record,
Baltimore's business and legal newspaper. She had won some high-profile cases and was a newly made partner at a top city law firm. Having met the lady, he wasn't surprised.

Nor was he surprised that she was considering her own office. Not only were corporate law firm jobs murderously demanding, but no amount of dressing the part could quite hide the maverick gleam in her eyes. He hoped she did decide to go out on her own and rip some fat-cat throats.

Preferably in a neighborhood far from this one.

∗ ∗ ∗

Luckily Kendra wasn't at her desk when Val returned, since she would notice her boss's distracted mood. Safely in her office, Val closed the door and tried to concentrate on the most urgent of the briefs she had to write.

Usually work focused her mind, but not today. She gave up in exasperation and closed the file after fifteen futile minutes. Digging out her calculator, she began playing with figures, estimating expenses and cash flow if she opened her own office.

Making her best guess on the costs, it appeared that even after paying humongous taxes, the
Centurion
windfall would give her enough money to pay for start-up costs, then subsidize the business until it was established and could pay for itself.

And amazingly, that was based on a forty-hour work week. What a luxury that would be! She should be able to divide her time between paying clients and
pro bono
work and make enough for mortgage money, cat food, and her retirement fund. Having her own office meant she wouldn't be able to do the intellectually challenging work that required a team of lawyers, but working more closely with clients and their needs would compensate for that.

Her pulse quickened at the knowledge that she could really do this if she wanted to. Her hesitation came not from economics, but fear. The insecurities of her childhood had left her with a craving for logic and order, which was one reason the law appealed to her. Despite her frustrations with Crouse, Resnick, it was a known quantity, and lucrative. Abandoning that to become her own boss would be exciting but unpredictable, and she did not love for her life to be unpredictable.

Of course, there was a whole range of possibilities between staying at Crouse, Resnick and starting her own office. She could go to work for a corporation, or enter the government sector, which would be less demanding and still provide a steady, comfortable income. That kind of change would be safe and relatively easy.

And yet, when she had entered the old church sanctuary, she'd experienced such a sense of lightness. Exhilaration, even.

She stepped into her small washroom and stared into the mirror, knowing she was at a crossroads. One direction was familiar, safe, and exhausting. The other was unknown, enticing, and damned scary.

The mirror reflected back her lawyer costume: dark tailored suit, a discreet, tasteful gold chain around her neck and matching gold earrings, hair secured in a sleek knot at her nape. This was how she had gone to work every day for years. The image was very different from how she looked on her own time.

She jerked out her hairpins, then wet her fingers and ran them through her hair to restore the natural bounce of the energetic red mass. Little Orphan Annie on a bad hair day was how she described herself.

These red curls had been the bane of her childhood. The bright, carroty color had made her stand out in a crowd no matter how much she wanted to blend in with the other girls. With age the color had darkened to a less violent shade, but even so, she was doomed to go through life looking like a short barmaid who needed to lose a few pounds.

But she didn't have to go through life wearing tailored suits. The choice was up to her. If she wanted a new life, it was time to take a few cautious steps in that direction.

If only it were possible to fast forward through change and go directly to the next secure niche....

Chapter 3

It looked like Val was still out, but just in case, Kendra called, "Are you in there, Val? I've got the Mercantile files for you."

As Kendra set down the stack of folders, Val emerged from the washroom, her hair rioting around her head and looking much redder than it did when pulled back. Startled out of her usual composure, Kendra blurted out, "Girl, what have you done to your hair?"

"Nothing. After five years of working together, it's time you saw the unvarnished me." Val folded onto the sofa with one leg tucked under her, looking very unlike her usual professional self. "I'm thinking of going off on my own. If I do, would you consider coming with me as paralegal, office manager, and secretary? I could match your salary and the medical coverage, though the other benefits might not be as good."

Kendra closed the door to her office and sat down, even more startled than she had been by the hair. "You really want to leave here after making partner? You've just climbed on the gravy train. A few more years and you'll be set for life."

"This job is eating me alive," Val said bluntly. "I'm good at corporate work, but a lot of it is just an elaborate game. I get tired of playing games, especially when I sometimes wish I was on the other side." She hesitated, perhaps finding it difficult to reveal so much of herself. "I want to do justice, Kendra. I'll need to take enough paying jobs to cover the rent, but what I really crave is
pro bono
work I can feel good about. I want to take on the powers that be and give some little guys a chance. As corny as it sounds, I want to fight the good fight."

Her words jolted Kendra. Justice for the little guy. "You really mean that?"

Val smiled wryly. "Yes. The big question is whether I have the courage to actually do it."

Kendra was silent for a long time as she thought about the pain and injustice that had been bleeding her soul for years. It was almost too late to make a difference--but maybe not. Val was the smartest lawyer Kendra had ever met, and she had a real heart under that red hair and fast- talking tongue. Maybe...just maybe.. "If you leave, I'll come along if you'll take on a lost cause for me."

Val looked cautious. "I can try. What kind of case?"

"I want you to get a man off death row."

"Death row?" she said, surprise in her voice. "Someone you have a personal interest in?"

"Do you recognize the name Daniel Monroe?"

Val's gaze went vague as she consulted her incredible memory. "He killed a policeman some years ago. If I recall correctly, he assaulted a woman, the policeman intervened, and got pumped full of bullets for his pains. A nasty business."

"Yes, but Daniel didn't do it," Kendra said vehemently, trying to suppress her bitterness. "Seventeen years Daniel has been in jail. Every possible appeal has been filed and denied, and the State of Maryland is ready to kill an innocent man. You want to do justice? Save the life of Daniel Monroe."

Val's expression softened. "I gather he was a friend of yours?"

"More than a friend." Kendra's mouth twisted. "He's Jason's father." Jason, her tall, handsome, air force academy cadet son, who believed his biological father was long dead. Philip Brooks, the man Kendra had later married, had been a good father to Jason from the day he entered her life until a heart attack carried him off too soon, but it was Daniel's blood that flowed in Jason's veins. Daniel's life that had been destroyed for no damned reason at all.

"Good God!" Shocked and sympathetic, Val chose her words carefully before continuing. "If you loved Daniel Monroe, it's natural to believe in his innocence, but if I recall correctly, the case against him was solid. His conviction was upheld on appeal a couple of times."

"Eyewitnesses!" Kendra exclaimed, then muttered some other words that she never used in the office. "Three people identified him, and they were
wrong
."

"You're sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure! When that poor cop died, Daniel was in bed with me and we was screwin' our brains out." Kendra deliberately used the raw accents of her youth as a way of making the past real to Val. It worked, because Val's expression changed.

"Surely if you testified to that..."

Kendra cut off the words with an angry gesture. "No one believed me. They all thought I was just an ignorant black girl, lyin' to protect her no-good boyfriend."

Val's eyes narrowed. "Tell me more."

"There isn't much to say. Daniel had had a few run-ins with the law, but never anything serious. Never, ever anything violent. He spent some time in jail for car theft and had only been out for a few months. But he had found a job and was going straight. We were living together and planning on getting married. Look, I have his picture." Kendra went to her handbag and dug out her wallet, flipping to the fading photo of her, Daniel, and their son on Jason's first birthday. She had carried this photo since it was taken. Philip, bless him, had never minded. "Does this look like a murderer?"

Val studied the photo. "It looks like a happy family. Jason takes after his father, I see. What a darling he was at that age. They have the same smile."

Daniel had been a darling, too. Big and sweet-natured, he'd had a romantic streak that made Kendra feel like a queen. They had been so close to having it all....

She snapped the wallet shut. "Then the cops came blasting in with guns one night threatening to shoot anything that moved. Jason was screaming--he was eighteen months old." She shook her head. "How Daniel did dote on that boy. He wanted to be there for him, like his father had never been there for him. Instead..." Her eyes squeezed shut as she furiously fought tears. She had tried so hard to put this in a mental box where she wouldn't be crippled by the pain. Usually she succeeded.

Val leaned forward and touched Kendra's hand with silent sympathy. "They arrested him and charged him with murder?"

Kendra nodded. "One of the detectives thought the description sounded like Daniel, and we lived only a couple blocks from the murder. Since Daniel had a record, they hauled him in. The witnesses picked him out of the lineup, and that was that. The police never looked for anyone else. He was tried, convicted, and sentenced to death."

"Even though you said he was with you?"

Kendra gave her a level look. "You're wondering if I'm lying. Val, I swear on my mother's grave that Daniel was with me when the murder took place. I tried talking to people. The public defender who handled the case kind of believed me and did some investigation, but he was never able to get around the eyewitness testimony."

She fell silent as she remembered the horrible time after Daniel's conviction when she struggled as a single mother to keep herself and Jason above water. "I managed to get into a state job training program so I could get a job that paid enough to support me and my son. One reason I chose to become a legal secretary, then a paralegal, was in the hopes of finding a way to help Daniel. But I never have." Instead she had learned that while the legal system usually worked, there were plenty of times when it didn't.

Val closed her eyes, tension visible in the taut skin over her cheekbones as she absorbed Kendra's story. "If you're right, a terrible injustice has been done." Her eyes opened, glinting steel. "You've got a deal, Kendra. You'll work for me, and I'll do my best for your friend. But you know the odds are slim that I'll be able to do anything after all these years."

"I know." Kendra's mouth twisted. The eleventh hour had struck, and midnight was approaching fast. "You'll have to start by persuading him to let you take on the case--last winter, he fired his lawyers, saying he was tired of fighting a losing battle. But you can charm a snake out of a hole, you're smart, and you know people all over town. You're Daniel's last chance, Val. You and God. I've been having a lot of conversations with Him lately. Maybe you can stir up enough doubts to get his sentence commuted to life."

"Why didn't you tell me about Daniel earlier?"

Kendra tried to imagine dropping that into a conversation. "This is such a white-bread, white-collar place that talking about murders and death row seemed out of place." She hesitated, realizing that in the last few minutes their relationship had changed. They had always been friendly, but they had never spoken so freely. "And to be honest, I didn't think you had the time or the interest to care about a condemned man."

Val's nose wrinkled. "I've gotten too good at showing a detached lawyer face. Believe me, I have always cared about injustice. I only hope I can help."