The Case of the Killer Divorce Read online

  "That's great!" I said. "You always were her biggest fan. I can't believe we ran into each other here, of all places. What are the chances?"

  He laughed. "I'd say the chances are excellent."

  "What do you mean?"

  "After I got my degree in park management and forestry, I worked for the state park system in California until they had budget cuts and I lost my job. A position opened up here and I applied for it. As of a week ago, I'm the new Director of the Parks Department. So, I work here."

  "You work in this park?" I asked, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. I was a grown-up now; I had to keep reminding myself.

  "Actually, I'm in charge of all of the parks. I'm visiting each one to make assessments and I thought I'd start with my favorite one. But, tell me more about you, are you married? Have any kids?"

  "Nope, how about you?" He had to be married. And he probably had a dozen gorgeous kids that looked just like him.

  "I was engaged once for a few months, but it didn't work out. No kids either."

  Someone, wake me up! On second thought, please don't.

  We just stood there, smiling at each other until Kip took my hand and said, "I have to get back to work, but I'd love to catch up some more."

  "I'd love that."

  "Do you like horseback riding, by any chance? I have to go to Tradewinds Park next Saturday, and they have stables and horse trails."

  "The last horse I was on was a pony when I was five, but that sounds like fun. If you don't mind riding with a novice."

  "No worries, I'll teach you. How about we meet there at one o'clock?"

  "Perfect! I'm looking forward to it, Kip."

  "Me too. See you then, Jamie!" Another quick hug and he was gone.

  I was dazed by my good fortune--that was Kip! We have a date! So what, if I don't know how to ride a horse, Kip's going to teach me. How was I going to make it to Saturday? I wondered. I knew that going on one date didn't necessarily mean anything, but I was happy right then, and nothing could change that.

  I walked back to the parking lot and found my car. As I opened the door, I heard a frantic buzzing under the seat. I'd missed three calls from Becca.

  Chapter 19

  "Becca? It's Jamie. Sorry I missed you."

  "It's okay," she said in a flat, monotone voice.

  "I spoke with the state attorney. I'll tell you what he said in a minute, but first, I need to ask you a few questions."

  "Alright."

  I wondered if she was medicated, she sounded so robotic. She couldn't have sounded less interested if we were talking about the weather, or the Kardashians. I was still at the park, sitting in my car with the windows open. If I had to do something this unpleasant, I could at least enjoy the scenery.

  "Do you feel okay?" I asked. "Would you rather I called back later?"

  "It's fine," she intoned.

  "Okay then, when is the last time you saw Joe?"

  "In the courtroom."

  "Did you talk to him after that?"

  "No."

  "On a different topic, do you have a prescription for sleeping pills, Becca?"

  "Yes, Ambien."

  She still sounded dull, almost bored.

  "Do you take them often?"

  "When I need to."

  "Did Joe ever take your sleeping pills?"

  "Yes."

  Okay, now, we were getting somewhere.

  "How many times did he do that?"

  "Not sure. A few times."

  "Do you know how he would've gotten any of your pills after he moved out?"

  "Not really."

  "Could he have taken some with him when he moved out?"

  "I guess."

  "Is Charlie there? Would you mind putting him on the phone for a minute?"

  I heard her hand him the phone.

  "Hi Jamie," he said.

  "Hi Charlie, is Becca okay? She doesn't sound right. I need to talk to her about some important things and I don't know if she is, well, paying attention."

  "Yeah, when she gets too stressed, she sort of shuts down. She'll be back to normal soon."

  I remembered that she acted the same way in the courthouse lobby, after her hearing. Maybe this would make my job easier.

  "Please ask Becca if she gives me permission to talk to you about her situation."

  I heard him ask and I heard her agree.

  "Okay, Charlie, here's the deal, the state attorney's office wants to question Becca as part of their investigation into Joe's death. We need to make an appointment and I plan to go with her. They'll probably want to talk to you at some point, too, I'm guessing. I'm sorry, but I wouldn't be able to represent both you and Becca, due to a potential conflict of interest, but I would strongly suggest you go with an attorney. If you can't afford one, you can ask them to appoint one for you from the public defender's office."

  "It's cool, I understand. I'll tell her everything you said," he said, in his usual placid tone.

  "Have her call me?"

  "Sure."

  It occurred to me after I'd hung up that Charlie hadn’t shown any more emotion than Becca, even after I told him the state attorney might question him about his girlfriend's dead husband. There was something strange about Charlie; I just couldn't put my finger on it.

  Chapter 20

  I hadn't told Charlie about Susan Doyle's suggestion to hire a PI. Like I said, there was a potential conflict of interest there, and my obligation was to Becca-- especially if the PI, a/k/a Duke, thought Charlie was worth investigating. I decided to take the easy way out this time and e-mail Becca, since I hadn't had much luck talking with her on the phone. Lord knows, I'd tried.

  I'd been home for a while and had just finished feeding myself and the cat. My dinner was a frozen pizza, his was some smelly wet mix of who knows what that cats seem to enjoy. We were both happy with our selection.

  After lounging around a bit, reading the news online, and playing "Words with Friends" with Grace, (since when is 'suqs' a word?), I dashed off an e-mail to Becca

  Hi Becca, I called a friend of mine for advice on your situation and she believes it would be in your best interest to hire a private investigator to look into Joe's death. I agree with her. I have a PI I use who is very good and reasonably priced. He charges $75/hour and requires a $500.00 retainer up front. You have money left in my trust account from your divorce case which you could use to retain him, but you'd need to sign his retainer agreement. Do you want to do that? Also, we need to make an appointment with the state attorney. Please tell me when you're available and I'll make the appointment.

  Within two minutes, I had a reply.

  Hi Jamie, you can go ahead and hire the PI. Can you email me his agreement? I can go with you to the state attny any morning after 8:30, but I can't go in the afternoon because I need to pick up the girls from school. Thanks for everything you're doing for me. Sorry I'm such a mess.

  At least she sounded normal again. I quickly texted Duke that we were going ahead, and asked him to e-mail me his contract for Becca to sign. He texted me right back.

  Hey Lawyer Lady-what are you going on about? What contract?

  You know, like when people hire you? I texted back.

  I operate on a handshake, Darlin'. No complaints as long as I get the job done.

  Maybe because you get your business from your fellow barflies. And through that billboard your ex bought telling the world what she thought of you.

  That did get me some business, didn't it? It served her right, after all the alimony I paid that woman.

  Well, you're going to need a contract this time, Bucko. Or I'm not releasing the money from my trust account. And I can't draft it for you because Becca's my client. How about if I send you my retainer agreement & you can cut and paste from that.

  You know, for a lawyer, you're not half bad.

  Right back at ya.

  After I e-mailed Duke my standard retainer agreement, I poured myself a glass of wine and kicked back
on the sofa. To my dismay, there was a spring poking me in the behind that hadn't been there before. Time for a new sofa! I mean, how could I enjoy 'quality couch time' if I didn't have a couch that was up to the task? I hadn't changed anything since I'd inherited the house almost two years ago, so maybe it was time, but I sure didn't need another project right now. In the meantime, I’d just have to slide down to the poke-free end of the sofa where I could zone out, sip my wine and wonder who killed Joe Solomon.

  Chapter 21

  A bagel can buy you a lot of good will. I found that out on Tuesday when I asked Lisa to do me a favor by calling the state attorney's office. She not only did it immediately, she did it with a smile. Who knew that's all it would take?

  After Lisa set it up, I e-mailed Becca to tell her the appointment was Thursday morning and to ask her to come in a half-hour early to prepare. She e-mailed me right back to confirm. She also thanked me for offering to attend Joe's funeral, which would be Saturday morning, but asked me not to go. It would be hard enough on Joe's parents that she would be there; it would be that much worse if her divorce attorney were there.

  I hadn't thought it through, but she was right; of course I shouldn't be there. It's not like I wanted to go in the first place (nobody wants to go to a funeral), and now that I had a date with Kip on Saturday, it had all worked out perfectly.

  Skimming through the rest of my e-mails, I saw that Duke had sent over 'his' retainer agreement for Becca. I read it through to see if made sense and it was alright, not bad at all, so I forwarded it to Becca for her signature. Once she sent it back, I'd be able to pay Duke from the trust account and he could get started on her case.

  I was slogging through the work on my desk when I heard a familiar buzz. It was a text from Grace asking if I wanted to meet for lunch. She had depositions scheduled all afternoon in Hollywood around the corner from my office. Also, she had some news for me, she said. Well, I had some news for her, too. We agreed to meet at Exotic Bites on Harrison Street, since we were both in the mood for falafel, and theirs was the best in town. So, it was a no-brainer: hummus at high noon on Harrison Street.

  I was studying the hookahs at the hookah bar when Grace walked into the restaurant.

  "Hello, my favorite corporate lawyer," I said, giving her a peck on the cheek. "You look fabulous, as always."

  "What, this old thing?" She said with a laugh, pointing at her red Anne Klein suit that fit her to perfection. We can't all wear Anne Klein the way Grace can, but then, some of us would rather be wearing sweat pants, anyway. Like me, for instance.

  As we sat down, I suddenly remembered something.

  "Hey, are you going to be okay eating here? Or will you have to chew on Rolaids the rest of the day?"

  "I'll be fine," she said. "I only need Rolaids when I'm dealing with that client who stresses me out. Food doesn't bother me, just him. I can't wait for that case to be over."

  "I bet!" I understood about difficult clients. I had a few, myself.

  We were the first of the lunch crowd to arrive, so we got our food fast. Falafel sandwiches are really messy and it was all we could do not to drop food on our clothes.

  It wasn't until we were sipping coffee and splitting a baklava that Grace said, "Don't you want to know what my news is? It's not like you to be so patient. Are you feeling okay?"

  I laughed. "Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf. People can change, you know."

  "Not a chance. What's really going on?" Grace looked skeptical, but I kept my face blank as long as I could.

  "Okay," I said, "I'll tell you. I have a date on Saturday."

  "No way! Who's the lucky guy? Do I know him? You've been holding out on me, Jamie. Spill it!"

  "Well, he's wonderful and totally adorable, and we're going horseback riding at Tradewinds Park."

  Grace looked exasperated. "But how did you meet? What's his name? Wait--did you say horseback riding? Is that a good idea? I mean, you're not the most athletic person. No offense."

  "Don't worry. Kip said he'd teach me," I said, waiting for Grace's reaction.

  "Kip? As in Kip Simons your high school boyfriend? How in the world--?"

  "I love it when you're speechless!" I said, laughing. "I actually ran into him at T.Y. Park, he's the new Director of the Parks department! Isn't that fantastic? I didn't recognize him at first, but we hit it off again right away."

  Grace shook her head. "Incredible! But, what were you doing in T.Y. Park? Trying to get your old job back?"

  "Very funny! I was exercising, I'll have you know. I do that occasionally."

  "I am so happy for you, Jamie, I really am. And it's about time. Now I get to give you advice about your love life! I can't wait."

  "Hang on, Grace. I don't have a love life yet. But go ahead, give me some advice."

  "Okay, I have three words for you."

  "Take it slow?" I guessed.

  "No," she laughed, "Wear--a--helmet. I can just see you falling off the horse!"

  "Yeah," I said, "Me too."

  Chapter 22

  "Okay, Jamie, that was a bombshell, but I can top it. Do you want to hear my news now?" Grace asked, leaning forward. She was very excited.

  I nodded. I couldn't imagine what she was going to say, but I suddenly had butterflies in my stomach.

  "I spoke to my friend at the D.C. Consulate about your dad," Grace said. "And he did some research for me."

  I sat there, twisting my napkin, waiting for the news.

  Grace reached over the table and squeezed my hands. "He's alive, Jamie!"

  "Oh, my God, my dad's alive!" I was so overwhelmed, I thought I would faint, or throw up. My hands were shaking like crazy and tears were streaming down my face.

  "Here's what happened, you're not going to believe this story! Your dad escaped from a Cuban jail in 2005 and swam to a U.S. naval base where he waited four years for political asylum. When it wasn't granted, they flew him to Nicaragua with fifteen other Cubans. My friend called someone he knows at the Nicaraguan Consulate who pulled some strings and found out your dad is still in Nicaragua. They are trying to get you an address for you, Jamie; you just need to hang in there. Isn't that totally freaking awesome?!"

  I practically jumped across the table and pulled Grace into a hug. We were laughing and crying and carrying on like maniacs. A lifetime of grief over my lost father seemed to melt away in an instant. I felt weightless, like a dancer in mid-air, or a balloon about to float away.

  A woman at another table caught my eye and grinned, our joy was contagious. She turned around to the waitress taking her order and joked, "I'll have what they're having."

  Chapter 23

  My euphoria lasted all day and I wanted to share the news with someone. I thought about calling Aunt Peg, but then decided not to. She's so pragmatic, I was afraid she'd start asking tough questions like, how did I know my dad wanted to hear from me? Not everyone would welcome the news of a grown daughter from a past life. And, did I really want to learn the details of his tragic life? And what if he needed help that I couldn't give him? Wouldn't I feel worse than I did before? So, I didn't call her. I called Duke instead.

  "Hey Duke, how's it going?"

  "Couldn't be better, Darlin'. The world is spinning, the sun is shining and I have a hot date tonight. How about you? We ready to roll with my new favorite client?"

  "Yes, we are. I'll e-mail you a summary and the contact info for Becca. I also have some news."

  "Hope its good news. I wouldn't want you to kill my buzz."

  "Be serious, Duke, nothing could kill your buzz!" I laughed.

  "You got me there." He chuckled.

  "So, here's my big news, I'm close to finding my dad! He's living in Nicaragua and Grace is working on getting his address for me. Isn't that great?"

  "That's terrific, Jamie. I'm very happy for you," Duke said, dully.

  "Then why don't you sound happy?" I asked, puzzled by his reaction.

  "I guess you figured Grace could help you more than I
could. No problem."

  Poor Duke! I'd hurt his pride. I can be so dense, sometimes. How was I going to fix this?

  "But it was your lead that made it happen, Duke. Grace took a chance and called a friend at the Cuban Consulate who was able to track down my dad--but only because you did the groundwork. That's why I'm calling you first.

  "You really called me first?" I could hear his smile through the phone.

  "Of course! I couldn't have found him without you. You're the best!"

  "Yeah, I am, aren't I? Keep me posted on that. I want to be the first one to shake the old man's hand."

  "You just want to hit him up for Cuban cigars."

  "What's wrong with that?" He laughed. "Congrats, Jamie, I mean it. Now, how about a little background on Becca Solomon?"

  I filled him in on everything, including the upcoming appointment with the State Attorney, but I asked him to hold off talking to Becca until after the funeral on Saturday, and he agreed.

  After our call, I e-mailed Duke the signed retainer from Becca, as well as other information he needed. It didn't take long, since I'd already given him a summary over the phone. When I was through, I pulled out the file for one of my other cases because, believe it or not, I had more than one client, and there was a hearing scheduled for the next day that I needed to prepare for. It was a relief to focus on something mundane and forget about Becca Solomon for a while.

  Chapter 24

  Wednesday passed uneventfully. My hearing went smoothly, my client was granted the relief he was seeking and I felt good about being a family lawyer. Hey, it happens. And then Thursday arrived and it was time to meet with Becca. I was relieved to see she was dressed appropriately in a charcoal gray suit and that she seemed to be sharp and with it. I couldn't have handled it if she turned zombie on me again.

  "How are you feeling, Becca?" I asked, once we were seated at my small conference table.

  "I'm okay. I want to get this over with." She was bouncing her leg under the table. Her nervous energy had to escape somehow.