Torn Between Two Lovers (16 page)

“Well, Bill, your client's in a lot of trouble.” Maria Russo, an attorney for the commonwealth, smirked confidently as she sat back in her chair. She was sitting next to Detective Ryan, across the table from my attorney, Bill Thorn, and me. We were in the Richmond Police Department's interrogation room, and to be quite honest, I was scared to death. They'd charged me with attempted murder. Although the evidence was piling up against me, and I'd thought about killing Leon plenty of times, this was a crime I didn't commit. Sure, I'd done some really messed up shit in the past few days in the name of love, including breaking into Leon's shrink's office, but I didn't do this. I didn't shoot the man.

The only person who seemed to believe me was my lawyer, and I'd only been able to speak to him briefly before these two walked in.

My friend Gordon had hired Bill for me, because he was supposed to be one of the best and most connected criminal defense attorneys in Richmond. He'd earned his $10,000 retainer so far; I'd never heard of anyone else getting a commonwealth attorney to give up a Saturday morning to meet with an attorney and his client. He was a confident son of a gun too. He didn't have time to explain how, but before the two of them came into the room, he promised me he'd have the charges dropped by the end of the day. I didn't know how the hell he was going to do that with all the evidence they had on me. I just hoped he was as good as he claimed to be.

Russo said, “From what I'm hearing, it doesn't look like Leon Farrow is going to make it through the weekend, and that changes everything from attempted murder to homicide.”

“But I didn't shoot him!” I was desperate to proclaim my innocence, but Bill raised his hand and I shut up quickly. He'd made it very clear he didn't want me saying a thing unless he gave the word. That was easier said than done; it was my life on the line.

“My client's innocent, Maria,” Bill replied confidently in his Southern drawl. It was obvious the two of them had bumped heads before, and she didn't like him at all.

“Yeah. So he says…” Her sarcasm made Detective Ryan laugh. “I guess you and your client have forgotten about the mountain of evidence we have against him. You're not going to be marching this one out of here like you did the last time, Bill.”

My patience was wearing thin. I hadn't slept since I was arrested some time yesterday evening. I wanted to tell that smug bitch to kiss my ass, but my lawyer was obviously not intimidated by her, so I kept my mouth shut and let him do his job.

My lawyer countered with, “You call that evidence? It's all circumstantial at best.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Maria, you got no case.”

She ticked off the list of evidence she felt did make her case. “Your client's having an affair with the victim's wife. He's threatened the victim on numerous occasions. Let's not mention the fact that he stalked Mr. Farrow and broke into his psychiatrist's office and stole his file. I think that gives me motive. Plus, Leon Farrow was shot with a twenty-two-caliber handgun, which your client just happens to own—and conveniently threw in the James River.”

Bill was about to say something, but she cut him off. “Oh, did I forget to mention he has no alibi? I'm sure I can convince a jury that this was a crime of passion. So, yeah, I've got a case, a damn good one.”

Bill clapped his hands a few times as if he were applauding halfheartedly. “Maria, that's a great story. I'm surprised you haven't gone to the press with it already.”

“Only reason I haven't is because Saturdays are such slow news days. But that won't be the case after his arraignment Monday morning—that is, unless you and your client are willing to take a plea and save the commonwealth a trial. How's twenty-to-life sound? He'll still have a chance at parole.”

I looked at my lawyer in a panic. “I'm not taking twenty-to-life. I didn't do this. I didn't shoot that man.”

Bill raised his hand again. I shut up, but he was starting to piss me off. Who the hell did he think he was, Perry Mason? This lady meant business, and he seemed more interested in antagonizing her than defending me. I didn't really give a shit what their personal feud was all about. Didn't he realize my life was on the line?

My lawyer continued with his sarcastic approach. “From where I'm sitting, the only thing you've got on him is misdemeanor possession of stolen property. Why don't we just write him a desk appearance ticket and all go home and enjoy the weekend?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Ryan finally spoke up. “This son of a bitch shot that man three times in the chest so that he could have his wife. This is an open and shut case of premeditated murder!”

I couldn't take it anymore. I spoke up in my own defense, and this time, I didn't give a shit if my lawyer tried to stop me. “I didn't have to shoot him! She was going to leave him on her own.”

“Really? That's not what she told my partner,” Ryan snapped. “She told him she tried to break it off with you but you kept calling her.”

“Hold on a minute.” My lawyer interrupted, probably to stop this little confrontation between me and Ryan before I admitted to something I shouldn't, like the fact that I had been ringing her phone off the hook and I did break into that doctor's office. “Let me get something straight: Your motive is that my client wanted Mr. Farrow dead so that he could have his wife?”

“Damn right,” Ryan answered, slamming his hand down on the table. He'd already convicted me.

Bill sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Have either of you looked in that file?”

A sideways glance passed between Ryan and Russo. Obviously neither of them had bothered to read it. She admitted, “No. It has no bearing on this case other than to prove your client's obsession with both Mr. and Mrs. Farrow.”

“Oh, I'm not so sure of that,” Bill countered, oozing arrogance. “Michael, why don't you tell them why you feel so strongly that Mrs. Farrow was going to leave her husband.”

Finally, it was my chance to explain. “I mailed a copy of the file to Loraine. I even highlighted the important parts for her. I knew that once she read them, there was no way she would stay with Leon.”

“So what?” Ryan jumped in before I could finish. “That doesn't prove a damn thing,” he said.

My lawyer leaned forward. “Actually, I think it does. You see, the pages my client highlighted contained notes concerning your victim's sexuality.”

“I still fail to see the relevance,” Ms. Russo said, but her posture suggested that her confidence was wavering, like she knew how Bill Thorn operated and that he was about to blow holes in their theory.

“Mr. Farrow is homosexual. Or bisexual, if you want to be politically correct. He'd been having a gay affair for years. My client had no reason to resort to violence. He knew that mailing the file would be enough to break up their already-shaky marriage. If you'd read the file, you'd know that Mr. Farrow has some performance issues in the bedroom with Mrs. Farrow.”

“Shit. She didn't tell us about any of that.” Ryan opened the folder and started flipping pages. When he reached the highlighted material, he dropped his head in his hands. I guess he'd expected this case to be open and shut.

Bill couldn't resist getting in another shot at Ms. Russo. “Tell me something, Maria.” He looked down at her ring finger. “You're married. What would you do if you found out your husband was sleeping with another guy? Especially if, as my client tells me, the guy he was sleeping with had been
your
best friend? Perhaps we should start looking at the wife or perhaps even the gay lover. They both certainly have motive, don't you think?”

Ryan groaned and closed the folder. I wanted to laugh at him. He was no longer the same cocky son of a bitch who'd strolled around my house yesterday like he owned the place. I hoped his sergeant ripped him and his partner a new asshole for this fuckup.

Ms. Russo wasn't ready to accept defeat. “There's still the question of that weapon.”

“Which you don't have,” Bill reminded her.

“Because your client threw it in the river,” she countered. “Who throws away a brand-new gun unless you have something to hide? A jury might find that to be very suspicious behavior.”

“You're a little too confident for your own good sometimes, you know that, Maria?”

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. These two were having a pissing match, trying to prove who was the better lawyer. I don't think it mattered to them whether I was innocent; they were only interested in winning this competition they seemed to have going on between them.

“Hah! I'm too confident? At least I'm not delusional. Why don't you just give it up and explain to your client that you're out of your league and he should find better representation? I still have him dead to rights.”

Bill smiled at her. “On the contrary. He's already hired the best in town.” He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a DVD, which he slid across the table to her.

“What's this?” she asked.

“You said the crime occurred sometime between four-thirty and six, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then you can release my client now.”

Russo laughed out loud. “There's that good old Bill Thorn arrogance again. And why, exactly, should I release him?”

“That DVD was taken from the security camera outside Mr. Richards's neighbor's home. From the neighbor's backyard surveillance camera, you'll see there's a clear view of a portion of Mr. Richards's property.”

“And?” Ms. Russo tried to look unimpressed, but I could tell she was feeling her case fall apart before her eyes.

“And Mr. Richards can be seen painting his garage during the hours that the crime took place.” He looked over at Detective Ryan. “Did you and your partner happen to notice that my client was covered in paint when you arrested him?”

Ryan couldn't even make eye contact with my lawyer when he mumbled, “No.”

We didn't exactly live in a bad neighborhood, so I'd always thought John Simpkins was paranoid for having those cameras installed. Now I made a mental note to bring him a bottle of Scotch and thank him for his help.

Ms. Russo sighed like she finally knew the fight between her and Bill Thorn had been won, and not by her.

Bill delivered the final nail to the coffin. “And just so you don't waste everyone's time trying to question the authenticity of this disk, I have a sworn affidavit from John Reynolds, who retrieved the security footage from Mr. Simpkins's home late last night.” He turned to Ryan again. “You might have known him as
Captain
John Reynolds before he retired from the force. He works as an investigator for my firm now.”

Detective Ryan turned to look at Russo and said, “Reynolds is as straight as an arrow. There's no way that DVD is a fake.”

Russo threw her pen down on her legal pad. She looked like she wanted to punch Ryan in the face.

“Well,” Bill said happily, “I think we can all agree that my client couldn't have been in two places at one time, so there goes your case.” He made a big show of checking his watch and giving a leisurely stretch, like beating Russo was all in a day's work for him.

He turned and patted me on the back. “You know, Michael, we'll have you out of here so soon that I might still be able to fit in a round of golf today.”

I walked away from Loraine and the detective in a hurry, heading around a corner and down a deserted hallway where no nurses would tell me to turn off my cell phone. I wanted to stay and hear what evidence they had against this guy Michael, but Big Poppa's ring tone threw me for a loop.

My hands were shaking when I answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey there, Lover Boy.”

The voice sent chills down my spine. It was Peter.

“Didn't I tell you I'd find out who Big Poppa was?”

It took me a minute to gather my senses and ask, “How the fuck did you get his phone?” He had me so shook that my voice came out sounding breathless and weak.

Peter laughed wickedly. “That's for me to know and you to find out. I'll be in touch.”

He disconnected the call, and I stood there flabbergasted, staring at the phone. For a second, I tried to convince myself that maybe I hadn't heard Big Poppa's ring tone after all. Maybe Peter was calling me from some other number. But Peter's words still rang in my ears—
Didn't I tell you I'd find out who Big Poppa was?
—and I knew that this was more than a bad dream. This was really happening. Peter was truly in possession of Big Poppa's phone, and in my bewildered state, I didn't yet grasp all the ramifications of what that meant.

I headed back down the hall toward the ICU. What was I going to do about that call? For a second I thought about getting in my car to find Peter and strangling him with my bare hands. But it wouldn't do any good. That motherfucker was probably long gone by now.

Maybe I could pull the detective aside and talk to him about Peter, but he was too amped up about this guy Michael now, and it was too late anyway. When I arrived, Tyndale was already gone, and Loraine was in Leon's room, crying beside his bed.

I pulled up a chair and sat next to her. “You all right?”

She wiped her tears, then turned to me, releasing a long sigh. “I'm gonna go take a walk. I've got to get some air.”

“You want me to go with you?”

“No, I think I need a little time alone.”

“I know that's right. I'm feeling pretty tense myself. You go ahead. We'll talk when you come back.”

I watched her leave the room, then spent a few minutes just staring at Leon. The
whoosh
of the ventilator pumping air into his lungs competed with the beeping of all the monitors he was hooked up to. I followed one set of wires that went from his chest up to a computer screen above his bed. This was the monitor that mattered the most. It measured the beating of Leon's heart. As long as that kept pumping, he was still with us.

“I know you think I hate you,” I said when I finally found the strength to speak to his motionless body. “But I don't hate you, man. I never have.”

The machines droned on, but of course there was no response from Leon. I kept talking, because there was always the chance that he could hear me. Even if he couldn't, I felt the need to unburden myself of all the things that weighed so heavily on my soul right now.

“Man, I really want you to pull through this. You know you've been pretty lucky so far. You've beat the odds and made it through the night. Now all you got to do is prove these doctors wrong.”

I wiped away my tears. “I will make you this one promise, though, because I know in your heart you really love Loraine. In spite of everything, I know you've always loved her.

“No matter what happens, you don't have to worry about her. I will take care of her for you. And if by chance another man comes into her life, I'll make it my personal responsibility to make sure he does her no harm.”