Cherry Blossom Capers Page 8

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “What if it was someone involved in our case?”

  “Over custody?”

  “Your client seemed pretty intent.”

  “He’s the dad. Of course he’s intent on doing what’s best for his kid. It’s what dads do.” As soon as the words slipped out, Daniel wished he could yank them back. Especially when Ciara’s face shut down and that old, familiar companion of distance erected its wall between them. Why did he have to poke at her today of all days?

  Ciara fought to keep from lashing out at Daniel. Of course he’d start his familiar refrain about how all fathers were perfect and deserved full custody of their kids. She couldn’t go there.

  Not today.

  She wanted to pray the judge would be okay, but he’d looked so pale and still. And Daniel’s client had jumped a witness during the last hearing. She’d decided to file today’s motion in part to rein him in. Sometimes hitting people in their pocketbooks reminded them a lot more was at stake.

  How had Daniel ended up on the wrong side of these cases?

  When they had clerked, they both had been passionate about protecting children, and family law was the best way to do it. They’d seemed on parallel tracks as their clerkships wrapped up. Then Daniel decided to start a firm on his own. His ability to care for the children seemed to evaporate with his responsibility to pay the bills. After that, she’d ended their relationship. She couldn’t pretend a future existed with someone who saw the world in such a different vein than she did.

  If only he still cared. But he didn’t, so today she’d fight the attraction and focus on what thrust them together.

  The clients who brought them in front of the judge.

  Hopeless. That’s what she was.

  “Come on, say it.” Daniel’s words pulled her from her thoughts.

  “Say what?”

  “The words on the tip of your tongue. The ones that paint me with the same brush as the evil fathers I represent.”

  “You aren’t the same.”

  “You don’t believe that.” A flash of something appeared on his face. “We used to think we could fight together, Ciara.”

  As she met his gaze, that old attraction exploded through her chest. She tried to erect a shield between them, but failed. Instead, the same feeling returned. The one that made her wish they could be something more than adversaries. That they could reclaim the easy friendship they had as clerks. No, she had to steel her heart and order herself to treat him as the enemy. Otherwise, all she got was the sense she could spend the rest of her life with him and she’d never find anyone else to compare. If only he didn’t specialize in tearing families apart—and she got stuck trying to salvage something from the wreckage. Not what she’d imagined when she invested years in law school.

  “Look, I’m sorry about that.” Daniel sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m a little rattled.”

  Ciara considered him, as if weighing his words. He could feel the scales tip against him. Sometimes he just wanted to ask when she’d decided to hate him. They’d left their clerkships eager to tackle the legal community. Somehow their paths had diverged, and he stumbled around whenever they worked a case from opposite sides. It was hard to pay attention to a client when advocating for them required calling her and bearing her scorn.

  Why couldn’t she accept every story had two sides? Nobody was 100 percent right or wrong when a marriage fell apart. And like it or not, if either party wasn’t committed to saving the marriage, there wasn’t anything he could do to change that person’s mind.

  He glanced at his watch and straightened. “I’ve got to get to Arlington.”

  “Hearing?”

  “Meeting with a client.” His gaze swept over the judge’s chambers. Several officers and plainclothes detectives worked the room. He prayed they found what they needed to nail whoever attacked the judge. “Guess they’re done with us now. I’ll call you later.”

  But the rest of the day sped by without even five minutes to follow through on the call. He could just imagine how she’d take it when he did snag a few moments.

  Ciara stared at the phone, then wanted to lecture herself. Some things never changed, from her willingness to believe Daniel or her insane longing to hear from him about something other than a divorce.

  Case files lined her desk, each representing a wife or child who needed an advocate. She had to direct attention to their cases, but each time she picked one up, she saw the judge.

  She’d checked online news services repeatedly, but hadn’t found anything about the morning’s events at the court. She played with the card one of the detectives had given her. Should she call him? See if he would update her?

  The thought was ridiculous. He had to have a zillion more important things to do than answer inane questions from someone who found a half-dead man.

  She dropped her forehead on her arms. I have to focus.

  “You all right, Ciara?” Linda Troxel, her paralegal, stood in the doorway when Ciara looked up.

  “Just grand.”

  “Then get moving. You’ll miss your meeting with opposing counsel in the Forsythe matter if you don’t hoof it.”

  Ciara groaned. “Any way to postpone that one?”

  “Only if you call. I’m not telling Ms. Snooty Pants her matter’s been delayed again. You know she’s hot to trot to Vegas with that boyfriend of hers. What was he? The pool boy?”

  “Cliché, Linda.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  Ciara laughed at the expression on Linda’s face. The woman kept Ciara’s spirits lifted with her running commentary on their clients. Especially when she laid on a heavy Southern accent like she just had.

  “Can you do a favor for me?”

  Linda shrugged. “Sure. What do you need?”

  “Call this man.” She handed the card to Linda. “See if you can find out how the judge is.”

  “I’ll do one better and call Judge Banter’s assistant. She’ll know everything.”

  “Great idea. Thanks.” Ciara grabbed her trench coat, briefcase, and the file Linda handed her as she rushed from her office. If she hurried, she might arrive in time since Mr. Forsythe’s attorney’s office was only two blocks away.

  As soon as she exited the town house where she worked, she lifted her face to the sky and let the sun warm her face. Spring hinted at its impending arrival with the soft scent of tulips and the cheery faces of pansies lining the flower beds of the storefronts she passed. She slowed long enough to wait for the Walk signal, then picked up her pace again.

  The meeting went well, and she headed home after it. She drove until she reached the end of a line of town houses in Cherry Blossom Estates. Then she pulled her sporty BMW convertible into her parking spot. She bounded up the couple of steps to her porch and unlocked the front door. As soon as she entered the living area, her shoulders slumped from the fatigue pressing against her.

  Her knee-high boots clicked against the wood floor as she crossed the living room. She placed her briefcase on the dining room table and then shed her trench coat and hung it on the coat tree in the corner. Her answering machine blinked a message from its spot on the kitchen pass-through. She hit the button and waited for the message as she flipped through the mail, tossing half of it into the kitchen trash can.

  “Ciara, this is Linda. I finally reached Glenda. I don’t know how to say this.” Linda paused after sounding choked on the last few words. “Judge Banter didn’t make it.” The message continued in silence for a few moments, then ended with a beep.

  Ciara startled, then hit the button again. Nothing changed the second time she listened. She stumbled backward and sank onto the nearest dining room chair. “Poor Judge Banter.”

  Did Daniel know?

  She reached for her cell and dug it from her purse with trembling fingers. As she scrolled to his number, she tried to frame what she’d say. How did one tell someone his mentor had been murdered?

/>   Chapter 2

  Daniel wiped a band of sweat from his forehead and dropped back to a crouch. Across the racquetball court, Tom Newman pointed at him with a cocky grin. “You’re going down if you can’t focus, old man.”

  Usually, Tom’s good-natured banter would cut through the stress of the day as it had throughout law school. But today, Daniel’s thoughts kept drifting back to the judge. “Maybe I should concede.”

  “And rob me of the opportunity to beat you fair and square? Won’t let you.”

  “Really, Tom. I need to go. Before I get hurt.” Get away and think about what had happened.

  Tom frowned then nodded. “I guess I understand. Next week, same time?”

  “Yep.” If he didn’t get hit by a truck or jumped by who knew who at his office.

  As he cleaned up in the gym’s locker room, Daniel tried to imagine who would want to hurt Judge Banter. The man was firm but fair from the bench. Parties could find themselves in front of much worse judges. Sure, there were always those who believed the world was out to get them. But that wasn’t the judge’s fault.

  His phone sang an old country tune from somewhere in the depths of his bag. He sifted through the corners until his fingers clamped around the small piece of metal. He pulled it out and unlocked it. “Hello?”

  A shuddering breath echoed in his ear.

  He glanced at the phone’s screen. It showed an unknown number. “Can I help you?”

  “Daniel?” Ciara’s voice didn’t have the strident tone he hated in the courtroom. “Have you heard the news?”

  “News?” Why did the woman speak in riddles? A thought struck him, and it was his turn to haul in a rough breath.

  “Judge—Judge Banter didn’t make it. Linda just called, and… I thought you should know.”

  Daniel eased onto the bench. Lockers clanged open and shut around him, the aroma of dirty socks and sweaty bodies adding to the surreal backdrop. “Dead?”

  “Whoever attacked him succeeded.”

  “Okay.” His mind spun with images from that morning. “I’m headed over.” He hung up before she could sputter any type of protest. Whoever did this would pay. A good man had died. Someone who strived for justice in all Daniel did. Who made the hard decisions. He hoped one of those decisions hadn’t led to his death.

  “Everything okay?” Tom asked.

  “Yeah. No. Judge Banter died.”

  Tom sucked in a whistle. “That’s nuts. The guy never hurt anyone.”

  “I’m sure some of those who appeared before him don’t agree. Still… murdered.” Daniel couldn’t shake the image of the man sprawled across his bathroom floor, the back of his head coated with blood from some kind of wound. “I’ve got to run.”

  “Sure.” Tom shook his head. “Sometimes I don’t understand this world.”

  “Makes two of us.” Daniel grabbed his gym bag and hightailed it to his car. Tom hadn’t clerked out of law school, so he wouldn’t understand the bond that developed between a clerk and judge. Ciara did. On the phone she’d sounded as shaken as he felt.

  Ciara turned on the burner beneath the teakettle. She couldn’t get warm and needed something hot in her hands. What if she had arrived at the courthouse a bit earlier? Would she have seen the murderer? If she’d been a few minutes earlier, could she have prevented the murder? Since she discovered the body, would the police think she’d somehow been involved? She tried to remember… what happened in all those crime shows?

  Outside of a criminal law and a criminal procedure class in law school, she’d avoided that area of law. She purposely built her practice around helping the defenseless. And now she wondered what it all meant.

  She might need to cancel her next couple of days’ appointments. Tomorrow would be soon enough to make a decision. A soft breeze fluttered the curtains at her front window. Even the sound of her neighbors returning home from their evening’s activities couldn’t distract her from the questions racing through her mind.

  Maybe she should go outside. Join them in an attempt at normalcy. Ciara opened her front door and stood on her stoop a moment. Having the end townhouse allowed her to observe the activity without joining in.

  “Ciara! Where have you been hiding, girl? You should have heard the buzz all over the White House. A judge was murdered.”

  Tara Whitley, the adorable gal who owned a condo across the cul-de-sac from Ciara, barely paused to take a breath before she covered her mouth. “Did you know him?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m so sorry. There I go again, speaking before I think.” Tara heaved a dramatic sigh, smoothing out her white chef’s coat. “Like most things, it leaked in the cafeteria first. A couple of Secret Service agents.”

  “I was there when his body was discovered.”

  “Oh Ciara! That’s horrible!”

  Ciara swallowed against the lump the size of a dollar coin that seemed lodged in her throat.

  Tara squeezed Ciara in a tight hug. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “I will.” Tara hurried to the main door of the building housing her condo before disappearing. Ciara considered following her. Being alone didn’t seem right. Maybe she’d take a walk instead. The neighborhood lawns and trees had begun to show evidence of spring. Any day now the cherry blossoms would erupt alongside the pansies and daffodils. Then it would be official. Spring had arrived, only shrouded with a tinge of black.

  She shoved her hands in her jeans pockets and hunched her shoulders. The breeze seemed to whisper in her ears—if only it would whisper who had killed Judge Banter. Ciara exited the cul- de-sac and headed up the slight hill through the neighborhood. A car pulled to the curb, but she ignored it.

  “Ciara.”

  Daniel? She turned around. “You came.”

  “I told you I would.”

  “Sure, but why?”

  He stepped on the sidewalk next to her, and suddenly she didn’t feel so alone. She almost stepped closer before remembering nothing had changed. They were still going different directions in life. Opposing directions. Diametrically diverging directions. She stepped back and tried to find neutral ground.

  “Can you believe it?”

  Daniel fell into step next to her as she started up the block. “It’s surreal.” Daniel rubbed his head roughly. “I don’t want whoever did this to get away with it.”

  “I’m sure the police or whoever is investigating will find the murderer.”

  “They don’t know the judge. We do. We can catch things they might miss.”

  Ciara stopped and stared. “We’re just former clerks. We’d get in the way. Muck things up.”

  “Not when we can tell them what’s different. If anything’s odd.”

  “Don’t you think Glenda will take care of that?”

  Daniel studied her, darkness shadowing his gaze. “This murder makes me angry. You know Glenda. She’s a great assistant, but she’ll fall to pieces over the judge’s death. You and I can move past that.”

  He stared at her, and she felt like she could see through him. “The judge gave me a chance no one else would. Even after clerking for him, no one would take on the young attorney from the wrong side of the tracks.” He snorted. “Can you believe there’s still such a thing? But there is.”

  “So? I still run into the good-old-boys club.”

  “This is Virginia.” He shrugged. “Do you know why I started working with the deadbeat dads? Court appointments. Clear and simple. I had to pay the bills, and Judge Banter knew it. He helped me the only way he could… sending me those who qualified for free attorneys.”

  “I wish I’d known that.”

  Silence settled between them, and it felt good. Not awkward like when they’d landed in elevators together. Was Daniel still the same underneath everything? Maybe working with him on his wild-goose chase would give her a chance to find out.

  The silence felt heavy. Did Ciara think he wanted to take a fool’s mission? Probably. But he couldn’t sit back and wait to
see what happened. Not when anyone who worked around the law or read a crime novel knew those first few days were critical. And if the detectives missed something he could see… He wouldn’t let that happen.

  “All right. I think you’re nuts, but as long as we don’t get in the way, I’m in.”

  At Ciara’s quiet words, he rallied. They could do this. Together. Just like when they worked for the judge and plotted grand strategies to take over the legal community.

  “Where do you want to start?”

  “I don’t know.” He’d never claimed he had a plan.

  “I can touch base with Glenda tomorrow. Try to find out if anything unusual has happened.”

  “Maybe I’ll track down his son.” Daniel wondered if the college kid would take his call.

  “It’s worth a try. I got the sense after Mrs. Banter died they drifted apart.”

  “Alexander still might know something.”

  “The poor guy is all alone now.” Ciara shuddered.

  Daniel couldn’t imagine missing Sunday brunch at his parents’. A command performance for all seven kids and, for those who had married, their families. And now Alexander wouldn’t even have a father to call.

  “Maybe you could offer to help him plan the service.” Ciara’s voice was so soft, he took a half step closer.

  The service. He hadn’t thought about a funeral yet. He stifled a groan as he considered what might be involved in planning it. “I’m glad the judge knew Christ.”

  “Me, too.” This situation would be more terrible if the judge hadn’t been a solid believer. Ciara shivered next to him. “Should we head back?”

  “I guess I should have grabbed a jacket before heading out.” She stopped and looked at him. “Do you want to come in for coffee?”

  “Sounds good.” The walk back to her town house was silent. He left his car where he’d parked. She walked in without unlocking the door. “Don’t you lock the door?”

  “Don’t need to. See all the curtains fluttering?” She pointed back in the courtyard. He bit back a laugh as several flapped. “Those would be my girls. They watch my back and I watch theirs.”