For The Defense

Margaret squeezed out the sponge and set it at the edge of the sink. “Ray suggested we fly to Hawaii, but I don’t know.”

Diana started the dishwasher. The explosion of water and whirling pump had her gesturing for her mom to precede her out onto the porch. She closed the door behind them to shut out the noise.

Margaret eased her trim form onto one of the porch’s white wicker chairs and patted the one beside her.

Diana sat, trying to emulate her mother’s physical grace, all the while knowing she’d fall short. She’d inherited her dad’s big bones and the kind of temperament that would dump a glass of ice water on a goon with grabby paws.

She often wished she were more like her mother. Margaret Gilman’s smile lit every line in her face with the joy of life. That smile was like a secret fountain of youth. Men were drawn to the wearer in hopes of being able to share in its secret. No wonder she was still turning heads at fifty-five.

Ray was a lucky guy. One of the nice things about him was that he knew it.

“You don’t want to go to Hawaii?” Diana asked.

“I’d love to go, but Hawaii is the kind of place you fly to when the weather where you are is cold and icy,” Margaret explained. “We wait all year for summer.”

Diana inhaled the sweet fragrance as she looked around at the lovely garden her mother’s time and talent had created over the years. Red, white and pink roses, all in full and glorious bloom, nodded in the muted evening sunlight. Yes, this was a lovely time of year.

“I was thinking maybe we could drive into British Columbia, find a cute little bed-and-breakfast and spend a few weeks there,” Margaret said.

“Some place comfortable and pretty like home, but away from the duties of home,” Diana added.

Margaret gave her a smile. “Sometimes I forget what a smart daughter I raised.”

Diana smiled back. “Glad I’m around to remind you.”

Mel opened the door then, bringing with her the intrusive bumps and grinds of the dishwasher. “I’ve signed off the Internet, Mom. Be ready to go apartment hunting in about ten minutes. That okay for you?”

Diana nodded in her daughter’s direction, and Mel retreated into the kitchen.

“I feel like I’m kicking you out of your home,” Margaret said, distress in her tone.

“Don’t, Mom. It’s time we got our own place. I’ll have the last of my student loans paid off in a couple of months. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t taken us in after Tony took off. Without you there would have been no law school, no—”

“Dear, you’ve thanked me a million times,” Margaret interrupted. “And not a one of them has been necessary. I’ve loved having you and Mel here.”

Diana felt the same tug in her chest that she had first experienced when she finally realized what an incredible mom she had. How blind she’d been as a child—totally idolizing her father and all but ignoring her mother’s crucial role in their lives. Kids were so damn dumb. Well, except for Mel, of course.

Thoughts of her daughter brought Diana to her feet. Time she got back to the business of finding them a place to live. One day she’d get a place out in the country like this. But for now, a city apartment would have to suffice.

“Have you told Mel that your aunt Shirley is going to be living with you?” Margaret called out before Diana had reached the door.

“Not yet,” Diana admitted.

“Coward.”

Diana laughed as she turned around to face her mom. “We won’t be late. I can’t be. I have an early-morning meeting with a judge on a plea-bargain, and then I have to see the investigator I’ve hired on Connie Pearce’s case.”

“The movie star turned private investigator?”

“I see Mel told you.”

“Some actors don’t look nearly as good in person as they do on the screen,” Margaret said. “What do you think about Jack Knight?”

“I think an engaged lady like yourself shouldn’t be asking about handsome men when you have a first-class fiancé to ogle.”

Margaret grinned. “Ah, so you do think he’s handsome.”

Diana rested her free hand on her hip in feigned irritation. “Ever since you’ve gotten engaged you’ve developed this annoying tendency to try to fix me up.”

Her mother’s face was full of mischief. “Is that what I’ve been doing?”

“First with your insurance salesman. Then with Ray’s stepson. Now with this private investigator. What gets into brides-to-be? Can’t you stand seeing us happy single folk content with unwedded bliss?”

Margaret’s grin widened. “Being in love is so wonderful I’m filled with an overwhelming desire to spread that feeling around. Can’t think of anyone I’d rather spread it to than you.”

“SO DID YOU and Mel find an apartment yet?” Jack asked the moment he walked into Diana’s office Tuesday morning.

His simple, conversational question was met with a noticeable pause from Diana. Most women he’d met were more than willing to share news about everyday events. Their biggest complaint was that men were too focused on themselves to ask about a woman’s concerns or listen to what she had to say.

But Diana seemed determined not to share much about herself.

Still, she’d let down her guard at lunch the day before. He’d heard the anger and sadness in her voice when she’d spoken of her client’s suicide. For a strong woman, she had a soft heart.

A head shake was all he got in answer to his question.

She handed him a folder. “That’s the copy of the sheriff’s report on Bruce’s death and the other stuff you asked for. Is your brother going to investigate Amy’s hit-and-run?”

There she was, right back to business. Definitely not the response he was used to getting from women. Did she not find him attractive, or was she too much of a professional to let on?

He told himself the answer wasn’t important. She was keeping their relationship businesslike and for that he was glad.

“I contacted Jared as we discussed,” Jack said in response to her question. “He’ll let us know if and when he finds anything. I also began the search into Bruce Weaton’s background. Now that I know where he went to school and who his friends were, I should be able to—”

“How did you find out those things so quickly?”

There was far more challenge than curiosity in her tone.

Jack repositioned himself on her exceptionally uncomfortable guest chair as he set the folder she’d given him on his lap.

“I have no problem indulging your curiosity, Diana. But your question comes across more like a cross-examination of my investigation techniques.”

“It was.”

Her candor came as a complete shock, which must have been apparent, because a small smile lifted her lips.

She had enjoyed surprising him. Maybe as much as he’d enjoyed surprising her.

“So, you want me to assume that you know how to do your job?” she asked.

She was testing him. “As I’m assuming you know how to do your job.”

That made her smirk. “But you won’t take exception to my asking questions purely out of curiosity?”

“I’m always happy to satisfy the curious.”

She inched forward on her chair. “Then strictly out of curiosity, how did you find out about Bruce’s schooling and friends so fast?”

“His obituary mentioned the schools he’d attended,” Jack volunteered easily because he was satisfied that she’d been honest about her motives. “A glimpse at the guest registry at the mortuary where his services were held last year told me who cared enough to show up.”

“Doesn’t that guest registry go to the family?”

“Smart mortuary personnel keep a copy, knowing that a family in mourning may misplace theirs.”

She rested against the back of her chair. “Seems so simple now that you’ve explained.”

“Everything seems simple once you have the answer. Knowing where and how to get the answer is what separates the professional from the amateur.”

An amused eyebrow lifted. “Was that another reminder that you are a professional and deserve to be treated as one?”

Jack smiled. “A very gentle reminder. I’m always careful not to inflict any unnecessary bruises.”

“As opposed to the necessary ones?” Her brief smile was good-natured.

So, she had a nice sense of humor lurking behind her formal façade. Getting past this woman’s defenses might not be easy. But Jack was becoming more certain by the minute that the effort would be worthwhile.

“Anything else you feel curious about this morning, Diana?”

Damn, he was flirting with her. He hadn’t meant to, but those last words had come out full of invitation. Unable to take them back, he carefully wiped the come-hither smile off his lips.

She studied him intently for a minute, then pushed a thick binder in his direction. “Before you get too involved in investigating Bruce’s background, I need some quick input on these.”

Not only had she not flirted back, she’d completely ignored his flirting. Relief vied with an odd disappointment.

Jack picked up the thick binder. “What are these?”

“The preliminary jury questionnaires. They list names, addresses, driver’s license numbers and other pertinent information as well as the answers to the basic questions of whether they’ve heard about the case or know any of the principals who are involved.”

Jack flipped through one of the questionnaires. One page listed the names of Bruce, his family members, Connie, witnesses to the alleged crime, as well as Staker and Diana. The next page cautioned each prospective juror not to discuss the case with anyone or allow themselves to be exposed to any news reports.

“What kind of input are you looking for?” he asked.

“I meet with Staker first thing tomorrow to try to agree upon an expanded questionnaire.”

“You have the jurors fill that out before you talk to them in the courtroom, right?”

She nodded. “Voir dire is the legal term for selecting a jury from the prospective panel. It begins the first day of the trial. Last week, I argued that a more detailed questionnaire filled out in advance would save time. Judge Gimbrere not only agreed to one, he’s planning to include a cover letter asking the prospective jurors to be honest and assuring them that their responses will be kept confidential.”

“So Staker didn’t fight you on this.”

She shook her head. “He wants time to digest the information as much as I do.”

“How can I help?”

“If there are questions you want me to ask that will assist with your investigation, I need to know by the end of today.”

As attractive and exciting as Diana was proving to be, Jack was thankful that he wasn’t planning on pursuing a personal relationship with her. She wasn’t even giving him time to complete their business one.

He closed the binder on his lap. “What kinds of questions can we ask a prospective juror?”

“Personal background stuff and whatever else could have a bearing on the specific case for which they are being considered.”

“So, if you have a case of spousal abuse, you could legitimately ask prospective jurors if they’ve been the victim or perpetrator of spousal abuse.”

“Both questions would be considered germane,” she confirmed. “A prospective juror who has been a victim or an abuser would most certainly be excused from serving on such a case.”

“Their experiences having clouded their objectivity.”

Diana nodded. “Except that even if a prospective juror has abused his spouse, he’s not going to admit it.”

No, Jack didn’t suppose he would. “The danger is that prospective jurors lie.”

“Some lie or omit information to protect themselves or their images. Most will try to be honest.”

“The important word here being, try?”

“Yes. My biggest concern is that people simply don’t recognize their own biases. If they possess a bias that is going to interfere with their ability to see the truth during Connie’s trial, I have to know. The judge will ask the prospective jurors if they will decide the case based solely on the evidence presented. If the jurors answer yes, the judge takes them at their word.”

“But we can’t afford to,” Jack said, as he got to his feet.

“Are you going somewhere?” she asked.

“We’re going to my office.”

She remained seated, looking up at him. “Why are we doing that?”

“Because my computer is already programmed with what we’re going to need to do a quick review of these prospective jurors.”

“You could call me later and let me know what you’ve found.”

Yes, Jack supposed he could. But he’d already decided he wanted her sitting beside him while he discovered those answers and developed the jury questionnaire. This was his case as much as hers. He needed her help if they were both to be successful.

“If you want a set of questions by tomorrow, we have to work together,” Jack said. “Unless you’re looking for an excuse to skip apartment hunting tonight?”

“I can’t skip apartment hunting.”

“Then let’s get going. My schedule’s free. I’m prepared to stay with the task until it’s done.”

“I won’t be able to stay past five today,” she said, not looking especially happy about the fact.

“When do you and Mel have to move out of your mother’s place?”

“Soon.”

And that was obviously all she was going to say about that. “If you only have until five,” he said, “we’d better get started.”

She glanced at her watch. “I have to pick up Mel from school in about thirty minutes.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask. What’s a genius like Mel doing in summer school?”

“She’s in a special curriculum for gifted youngsters. A former NASA scientist is here this week showing some incredible shots taken by the Hubble telescope, which is why I’ve been driving her to attend his lectures.”

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