Wednesday Afternoon
Hollis was back in the police department waiting room, waiting for the arrival of Detective Scott and Odelia Larson. The chief had asked for privacy to make a few calls. She took a seat in the far corner away from the Chamber representative, who was clearly getting restless and had put all his electronic devices away except for his phone’s time-of-day screen.
She debated calling Stephanie for more details about the insulin injection that killed Bell, but instead she punched the number for Penny, who answered with palpable excitement.
“I’m so glad you called.” Penny said. “Gordon has been looking for you. He won’t tell me why, but you’re to see him as soon as you get back.”
“Transfer me to him, now.”
“I can’t. He’s on the other line, and I’ve got an errand to run during my lunch, so—”
“Fine.” Hollis sighed. “Just slip him a note that I got his message and tell him I need to talk to him too.”
“All right.”
She clicked off.
Hollis had just put down her phone when Scott came through the hallway door and walked over to her.
“Your client is being processed in the back. You can see her in a few minutes.”
She’s not my client.
Scott pointed to the corridor. “You can meet with her in one of the empty private offices.”
Hollis picked up her briefcase and followed her to a sterile-looking office with a desk and two chairs. She put her belongings on the floor.
“Detective Scott, do you really think that old lady killed Matthias Bell?” Hollis said.
Scott shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s what the evidence shows. She was hiding evidence of the hypodermic needle in her room. And the fact is she’s all but admitted she was the only one who could’ve done it.”
A buzz went off on her communicator.
“They’re bringing her in,” Scott said.
Hollis folded her arms across her chest.
The “they” were the department’s two patrol officers, who looked about sixteen. A hint of mustache growth appeared above the lip of one and the other kept his right hand on his gun as he led the elderly woman into the room. She almost laughed out loud, until she saw the look of fright on Odelia Larson’s face. The young patrolmen closed the door behind them.
“We’ll be right outside,” Trigger-finger said.
Hollis raised her eyes heavenward in exasperation.
Odelia took a chair and Hollis sat next to her, already looking in her purse for tissues.
“I can’t believe any of this,” Odelia murmured, her eyes clear. “I don’t … I mean I didn’t like Mr. Bell, but not enough to kill him. I … I’ve done some things but—”
“Odelia, stop. Don’t tell me anything about your activities,” Hollis said. “I can’t represent you. You can’t be my client. I don’t practice criminal law.”
Odelia gave her a weak smile. “I don’t mind.”
Hollis opened her mouth to speak.
“I don’t care what you say.” Odelia wagged her finger back and forth. “I know you, Ms. Morgan. I’ve seen how you think and act over the years. While we may have had our differences, I trust you. I want you to represent me.”
“But, Odelia, I wouldn’t be your best advocate. I don’t know the procedures and process for putting your case forward I—”
She reached over and patted Hollis’ hand. “You’ll figure it out.”
Odelia refused to listen to Hollis’ objections, and after a few minutes she stood. “Like I said, you’ll figure it out.” She knocked on the door, and one of the officers poked his head in and escorted her out.
A frustrated Hollis stared after her.
Chief Brennan joined Hollis in the hallway, watching Odelia make her way back to the holding cells.
“I’ve seen all types, Ms. Morgan. Believe me, that woman could kill if she had a mind to.” He turned to look at her. “So, are you going to take her on? I didn’t think you handled criminal cases, but I guess it’s all the same.”
Hollis leaned against the wall. “No, it’s not all the same. I’ve never been in front of a jury.” She ran her hand over her face. “She could be sentenced to prison because I don’t know what I’m doing with criminal law.”
She turned to face the chief.
“That said,” she continued, “I don’t think she did it. And even I could get her off with the flimsy case you have against her. Have you talked with the DA?”
“You can’t have it both ways, Ms. Morgan. I don’t have to share anything with you if you’re not representing Mrs. Larson. But I will tell you this. Odelia Larson admitted to Detective Scott that she knew Bell had cheated her out of her expected pay before you gave her the check.”
Hollis stared at him, the impact of his words slowly sinking in.
* * *
An hour later when Hollis pulled into her parking spot in Triple D’s garage, she was still ruffled from her meeting with Odelia Larson and the chief’s revelation about what the elderly woman knew and when she knew it.
Gordon’s door was open but he was on the phone. He glanced up and waved her in. He said a quick, “I’ll get back to you,” to the caller and clicked off.
“Hollis, I understand from your paralegal that you’re meeting with a new client tomorrow, Mrs. Kiki Turner.”
Hollis formed a “T” with her hands. “Gordon, time out, I have an emergency I need to speak to you about.”
It must have been the tone of her voice, because for once he put his phone inside his desk drawer and gave her his full attention.
“Talk.”
Hollis was thankful she’d already briefed him about Bell and didn’t have to start from the beginning. Instead, she went straight to the chief’s call.
She wrapped up her explanation, “Bottom line is I can’t talk her out of wanting me as her counsel.”
Gordon steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. “Well, I have a solution. I can represent the court case and you can work with me on dealing with the client. She trusts you and you’re already familiar with the cast of characters. One of those victims killed Bell.” He paused. “Regardless, it doesn’t matter to me whether Larson killed Matthias Bell or not. She deserves a defense. But are you sure you want to get involved? Criminal law is not as … as cut and dried as probate.”
Hollis’ suppressed the urge to argue that she was up to any case Gordon gave her. But she stopped, as she knew John would want her to, and gave it a moment’s thought.
She smiled. “I’m up for the case. As co-counsel, I can be your feet on the ground, and as you said, Odelia already trusts me. That alone would save billable hours.”
Gordon slapped the top of this desk.
“Ah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said, pulling out a notepad. “Your paralegal tells me that you’re meeting with a Mrs. Kiki Turner.”
Gordon was smiling so broadly that she was put on guard.
“Yes,” she said tentatively. “I haven’t signed her. It’s just a consultation.
“But you expect to sign her?”
“Yes, it’s likely.”
He slapped his hands together.
“This is great news.” He got up and sat on the edge of his desk. “From the expression on your face I can tell you don’t know who she is.”
Hollis wondered what he was leading up to. “Oh, that. I know she’s a stripper but—”
“A stripper!” Gordon exclaimed. “She’s the stripper. She’s the stripper who married Harold Turner a couple of years ago. She’s worth millions.”
She unconsciously stiffened. She now knew what was behind Gordon’s elation. “Well, I don’t think a standard trust will garner an inordinate amount of billable hours.”
“Did you hear what I said? She’s Kiki Turner. Don’t you listen to the news? Don’t you watch the entertainment channel?”
Hollis manage to suppress her snort. “Ah, no, I don’t.”
Network shows depressed her. Except for sporting events, she and John watched cable and public television.
“Good lord. Kiki Turner married ninety-three-year-old Harold Turner when she was thirty-six or thirty-seven. She had one daughter at the time—I can’t remember her name—by another, hmm, liaison. The daughter is grown, married and has at least one child of her own. But they’re estranged; I don’t think the daughter liked what her mother did for a living.” He went around his desk and sat back down.
He continued, “Harold died earlier this year. It’s time for the big payoff.”
“Okay, though I don’t see—”
“Kiki Turner is rolling in dough, and there’s a rumor she’s dying.”
Gordon’s revelation caused Hollis to wrinkle her brow. Clearly her potential high-profile cases—one a murder and the other, a celebrity estate—were not as simple as they appeared. And either one could keep her busy for a while to come.
Gordon pulled his phone out of the drawer and turned it on. “I’ll go to the police department and sign up Mrs. Larson on my way home this evening. I’ve never dealt with Chief Brennan, but from what you’ve told me, he’s not going to be a challenge.”
“I should come with you. Odelia is cranky enough to believe that I’m pulling a bait and switch on her, and not sign with you,” Hollis said.
His phone trilled.
She was ready to club him for allowing his incessantly ringing phone to interrupt their meetings. He looked down at the screen, and shrugging, picked up the phone.
She’d had enough.
She raised her voice to say, “Gordon, I’ve got work to do. I have other clients, too.”
He nodded but motioned for her to wait. He finally finished his call.
“Sorry, I’ll meet you in San Lucian at four thirty.” He scribbled something on his pad of paper. “I just want you to take extra care. The Bell case is high profile. And the Turner estate would mean a lot to the firm … and your career.”
“Got it.”
His phone trilled again, and she got up and left.
She returned to her office to make a call to Detective Scott, informing her that she and Gordon Barrett could see Odelia Larson that evening.
“So, you are going to represent her,” Scott insisted.
“Gordon Barrett will act as her attorney. I will be assisting as co-counsel,” Hollis said. She pulled out her notepad. “Detective Scott, Chief Brennan said that you have proof of Odelia Larson’s motive to kill Bell. What did you find?”
“I’m not inclined to hold case interviews over the phone, Ms. Morgan,” Scott said, “but you’ve been a help to us. Miss Larson evidently gained access to the box that held Bell’s final checks to his staff. She knew the amount that was coming her way. As you said yourself, she was very unhappy, and we think she was unhappy enough to kill.”
Hollis held her tongue and said goodbye. She rubbed her eyes with her fingers. She wished she knew what kind of “proof” the police had against Larson, but guessed she would find out soon enough. Hollis worked well under stress, but things were starting to make her a little crazy. The fact that Bell was murdered was just beginning to sink in. She frowned. Assuming he didn’t know he was going to be murdered, why would Bell release his victims and pay off his staff? It didn’t make sense.
This last revelation raised a completely different set of questions.