What We Find (24 page)

“Did he give you money?”

“No. He just talked about it.”

“And did you go to his room?”

She shook her head. “No! He was leading me out of the hotel bar when my friend was walking in. He put me in handcuffs! And my friend said,
What the hell is this?
And the man pulled out his badge to show her. And she asked him if he was crazy.”

“And this friend? Also an
escort
?”

“As it happens, she’s a yoga instructor! I called her as soon as I got home to tell her it was a terrible misunderstanding. But I think she wonders about me now. This is awful.”

“Did he
show
you money?” Cal asked.

“No,” she said.

“Listen to me carefully, Becky. If that police officer was wired, will the recording be exactly as you say? Or will it sound more like you were setting a price and telling him the rules for the game?”

“It will sound exactly as I told you. Ex-act-ly.”

Cal scribbled a few things on his tablet. “Well, the next thing to do is get a copy of the police report, the arrest report, and plan a defense in time for your court date.”

“It’s in a week,” she said.

“What happened the last two times you were arrested?”

“Does that matter?”

“Just to me. The fact that you were arrested could come up but the details won’t affect the outcome of this situation.”

“Well, a gentleman I was having dinner with told a maître d’ that I was a hooker and he called a cop. Apparently he was irked at the escort price when he wasn’t getting sex and didn’t want to pay it. So see? I was in trouble for not being a hooker! That was the first time. The second time it was a female police officer undercover and she was asking me how I managed to get into my escort business because she wanted to get into the business, so just for fun I demonstrated how easy it was to attract a man in a bar and interest him in an escort. It was very confusing because I wasn’t going to do anything then, either. But the man was her partner and they
both
took me to jail. I paid a fine because it was less than it would cost to hire a lawyer. But I’m telling you, I’m not doing anything to break the law!”

“What you’re
not
doing happens to be against the law. Working as an escort who occasionally supplies sex is illegal, whether the price is affected or not and something tells me you already know that. But we might get lucky this time. I’ll have to see the arrest documents before I’ll know for sure.”

“I want this to go away,” she said.

“What’s your job position? With the doctor you work for?”

“I’m mainly a receptionist, but I also do some computer work. I check patients in, check them out. It’s a cash business—most plastic surgeons don’t run insurance paperwork. I really love my job.”

“And you’ve done this for how long?”

“I’ve been with him for five years now.”

“Okay, that’s all I need for today,” Cal said, sliding his tablet into his bag and getting to his feet.

She stood as well and looked at him sadly. “But you hardly touched your coffee,” she said sweetly.

“Another time, Becky,” he said. At the door he turned toward her. “I suggest that you don’t go on any dates with anyone before your court date.”

“Sure,” she said. “Unless you want to get together. To talk?”

“If I need to talk to you, it’ll be business. Have a good day.”

“Cal?” she asked. “Will you be talking to Tom about this? I know you’re friends.”

He shook his head. “I won’t be talking to anyone about this. What you tell me is confidential.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

He threw his canvas bag in the passenger seat of his truck and started the ignition. He chuckled as he thought about the case.
She’s a hooker. A pricey hooker who probably rarely gets dinner but commands a decent hotel room and an excellent price. Very likely she meets clients in the doctor’s office. She probably doesn’t have more than one, at most two appointments in a single night. She’s discriminating and her gentlemen probably appreciate her very much. And she’s going to be one of my repeat customers for legal representation.

* * *

Cal spent the next day at the courthouse rounding up documents and lining up a witness he hoped he wouldn’t be using. He met with an assistant DA and suggested he not press charges based on the arrest report alone, but the young man wanted to go to court. So they were on for the following Wednesday.

The weekend found the campground full and busy. People were floating out on the lake, sunning, fishing, swimming. There was a tent or small trailer on every campsite, grills in constant use, lawn chairs out, beach towels spread and picnic tables moved around—first come first serve. The smell of hot dogs cooking and the sound of softballs
thwacking
into mitts filled the air. People were coming and going to the nearby trails and cliffs all day. The store was teeming with business and probably one of the most gratifying scenes was Sully, enjoying the pinnacle of good health, greeting old friends from years past, customers returning to the crossing for their vacations or long weekend.

During summer, every hand was employed, though Enid kept shorter days since Sully had extra help. Once she got her baking done, she went home—summer meant Frank’s grandkids hanging around the ranch more and she liked spending time with them. Cal and Maggie worked all weekend. A few college girls from across the lake came over to Sully’s to sit on his side of the lake. They had a cooler, a few beers and staked out a picnic table by the lake under the shade of a big tree. One of the girls, probably the only one who was twenty-one, came in and bought a six-pack.

Cal sat on the porch, taking a break in the early-afternoon shade with his laptop open. Maggie came out and sat at his table.

Jackson drove up to the store in his dad’s truck. He got out, still wearing his climbing harness, and began to put the accoutrements of his favorite hobby, rock climbing, into the back of the truck—harness, ropes, ascenders, pulley, lightweight backpack. He pulled off his sweaty shirt and grabbed a fresh shirt out of the front seat. He changed from his climbing shoes into dry socks and hiking boots. He tossed the clean shirt over his shoulder and headed for the store, obviously planning to do a little wash up in the bathroom before putting on his clean shirt. His canvas cargo shorts rode low on his hips. He was about six feet, his arms and shoulders powerful and strong from months of working out with the rescue team, his grin infectious. He had a tattoo on one bicep.

“Hey, Cal. Hey, Maggie.” He walked past them into the store to get to work.

Cal was looking toward the lake, a secret smile on his face. Maggie followed his gaze and started to laugh. All four of those girls were gazing after Jackson. They started to swoon, giggle and one of them pretended to faint.

“He’s gotten so manly,” Maggie said. “He even smells manly.”

“That he does,” Cal agreed with a laugh.

It wasn’t long after that that the girls were back in the store. Jackson was working the counter, Cal was stocking, Beau was hanging out in the storeroom with Sully. There was a lot of excited talking and laughing and it was a long time before the girls were leaving and Jackson was getting back to work.

Cal peered around the end of a grocery aisle at Jackson. Jackson chuckled a little in embarrassment and blushed. But Cal had a feeling there would be more than fireworks over the lake that evening.

It was an exhausting weekend but just what everyone needed. On Saturday night Tom came to the camp with his kids and as soon as the sun was down, he and Jackson shot off some fireworks.

The rest of the weekend was more of the same. It was busy and there was plenty of work to do but Cal enjoyed the friendly, happy energy of the crossing. There was a lot of cleaning up on Tuesday after the bulk of the campers had headed home. In the afternoon, Cal sat on the front porch of Sully’s house, out of reach and earshot, and called Becky.

“We have court at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. I thought I’d touch base, make sure you’re ready and know what to wear.”

“You don’t have to tell me what to wear, Cal. I know I should be conservative.”

“Not Amish, just conservative. That trick of trying to look like a Sunday school teacher usually has the opposite effect. Be prepared for the judge to ask you a few questions about what happened. Answer just as you explained to me.”

“Is it going to be okay, Cal?”

“There are no guarantees but it’s my educated guess that you’re not going to spend any time in jail.”

“I hope you’re right,” she said.

He pulled his suit, the only one he’d brought with him, out of the back of his truck. The day he met Becky, he took it to the cleaners. It was covered in blue dry-cleaning plastic. He dressed early in the morning. His shirt was starched, his tie was probably still in style. He’d shined his dress shoes.

“Can I borrow your briefcase so I look like a real lawyer?” he asked Maggie.

“You didn’t bring a briefcase?”

“I packed everything. I only brought a suit and a couple of shirts and ties in case I had to dress for some reason, but I honestly didn’t think it would be for a court appearance.”

“That is a fine suit, California,” she said. Maggie sat cross-legged on the bed. Her long, brown legs stuck out of her khaki shorts and a white shirt covered a blue tank. “Did you go to work looking like that every day?” she asked.

“I had a few good suits,” he admitted.

“I bet you were a clotheshorse,” she accused.

“I thought if I could have all those things I missed out on growing up it would make me a better person. It was a great lesson.”

“Because it didn’t?”

“You know the answer. You have to work on who you are from the inside out.”

“Are you going to tell me about this court case when it’s over?”

He grinned at her. “Probably not.”

“Well, you’re very hot and I want to jump you. That suit turns me on.”

“I’ll be wearing the suit when I come back. Be ready,” he said with a naughty grin.

Cal met Becky just inside the courtroom doors and went through security with her. She was wearing a nice dark suit with a colorful scarf around her neck—no cleavage, no extra jewelry. She wore nude hose and black pumps and looked like a lawyer. Or one of the rich women from Aurora.

Waiting outside their courtroom was Steve, the bartender from the hotel bar where Becky had been arrested. Cal shook his hand and thanked him for his appearance, but Becky looked confused. “Do you remember Steve?” Cal asked her.

She shook her head. “But you look familiar.”

Cal laughed. “He’s the bartender, Becky.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, I only had that one glass of wine.”

“Am I going to have to testify or something?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know. That’s not really up to me. If you do, it’ll just be that one question I already asked. We’ll have to wait to be called so let’s find a place out of the way to sit down. I’ll let them know we’re here.”

Just as Cal was turning to go, a uniformed police officer appeared.

“Now
him
I remember!” Becky whispered.

“Best if we don’t talk to him now,” Cal said. “Just go sit over there.”

It was over an hour before it was their turn to appear. Cal guided Becky to the defense table and indicated for Steve to take an empty chair in the gallery behind them. Then it was only minutes.

The charges were announced. “The county versus Rebecca Canaday on the charge of soliciting.”

“Everybody here?” the judge asked.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Cal and the young ADA said in unison.

“What’ve we got,” he said, turning pages.

“We move for dismissal, Your Honor. The motion should be there. According to the arrest report, Ms. Canaday didn’t solicit anyone for any reason. There’s no probable cause or evidence.”

“Approach,” he said.

Cal and the ADA both went to the bench. The judge looked at the young ADA over the rims of his glasses. “You read this police report, Mr. Lockhart?”

“Yes, sir. The police officer signed the report and will testify that they had an agreement on sex for money.”

The judge raised an eyebrow. “The same police officer who wrote the report and failed to mention taking the defendant to a hotel room or giving her money? That police officer?”

“They made a deal,” the ADA argued.

“And was there a wire?” The ADA shook his head. “Witnesses?” Again the head shaking. “Corresponding evidence?”

“We can supply the witness and corresponding evidence, Your Honor,” Cal said. “The bartender was a witness to the fact that no money changed hands. No money was even visible. He heard the whole thing and was about to ask the gentleman to leave the lady alone. The police officer cuffed her while she was sitting at the bar.”

The judge gave the ADA a very tired, bored look. “I’m feeling very generous today, Mr. Lockhart. I’m going to give you a chance to drop the charges before I dismiss. Your boss doesn’t like it when his young ADA’s get their cases thrown out, so do be efficient. Do the right thing. And then get a remedial reading class. If it’s not in the report at least round up some proof that it happened.”