Kiss of death

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

WHITNEY CHECKED HER reflection in the towering plate-glass doors of the high-rise in the Marina District where Broderick Babcock had his offices. Her pale pink twinset and navy slacks didn’t seem businesslike enough to visit a criminal defense attorney. Well, it was the best she could do.

Whitney had walked only the dogs that absolutely needed to be taken out before rushing downtown. She’d called Ryan to apologize and tell him Lexi had been found but he’d already left. She’d nearly choked on her apology to Ashley, but she’d managed to spit it out. Ashley had been “totally thrilled” to hear Lexi had been returned. Whitney told her to contact Ryan immediately. She didn’t want her ex wasting his time calling test labs, searching for Lexi.

As she swung open the tall glass door and walked into the immense marble-floored lobby, she admitted to herself that a sense of relief had replaced the animosity she’d felt toward Ryan and his new wife. She wanted the divorce behind her. Last night, while she’d been in bed with the dogs, she’d realized how much she needed to begin all over. She told herself not to see Adam Hunter as part of this new life. Put him out of your mind, she kept thinking. But in the next minute, swear to God, his image would pop up unbidden.

She checked the directory on the wall and found Broderick Babcock’s office was in the penthouse. Silently rehearsing what she would say to the attorney, Whitney rode the elevator to the lawyer’s offices. Another glass door led into a large waiting room decorated with minimalistic furniture in muted shades of cocoa. It was empty except for an older woman behind a desk.

Whitney entered and the woman with blue-tinged hair and a gray suit looked up with a smile. “May I help you?”

“I’m Whitney Marshall.” She expected “Marshall” to ring a bell. Apparently, it did not. The woman waited for her to continue. “I have a divorce agreement I’d like an attorney to look over.” She stopped right in front of the desk.

“We’re a criminal law firm,” the woman responded pleasantly. “I can recommend-”

“I would really like to see someone here,” Whitney replied. “You see, since my cousin-who’s like my sister-is on her honeymoon with Mr. Babcock, I thought…”

“Your cousin?”

“They’re honeymooning. You know, in Fiji.” Was it possible the attorney hadn’t told his office staff? The woman seemed perplexed, but she was smiling. The wedding was supposed to be a secret from his clients. She’d assumed his staff had been told, but she might have blown it by coming here and spilling the beans.

“Married?” the woman asked as if she’d never heard the word.

“Yes. I just thought maybe another attorney in the firm could take a quick look.” She waggled the document she had brought with her.

“What did you say your name was?”

“Whitney. Whitney Marshall. My cousin is Miranda Marshall, now Miranda Babcock.”

“I see.” She rose, saying, “Wait here. Someone will be right with you.”

The woman disappeared behind double doors that must lead into the inner offices. Whitney took a deep breath and gazed out the window at the amazing view of San Diego Harbor. Looking at an aircraft carrier slowly moving toward the navy yard, she again rehearsed what she would tell the attorney. She needed to inquire about making payments on his fee. That was the important part; she had almost no money.

The door opened and the receptionist said, “Right this way.”

Whitney followed her down a long corridor. She glimpsed several people diligently working at desks in various offices. At the end of the hall she saw a large office and beyond it the gleaming blue waters of the harbor. It had to belong to a senior partner, she decided. Her simple settlement agreement wasn’t worth bothering someone so important. Why couldn’t one of the other attorneys look at the document?

Before Whitney could suggest this, the receptionist stepped into the office and announced, “Whitney Marshall, sir.”

From behind a glass desk the size of a pool table rose a tall man with black hair burnished at the temples with gray. His dark brown eyes warned her that he missed nothing in his field of vision. They also said he was a man who didn’t know the meaning of the word compromise. What had she gotten herself into?

“Thanks, Karen,” he said to the receptionist with a smile.

Whitney relaxed a little as the older woman closed the door. Men who were kind to their staff were kind in general. Right?

He extended his hand across the desk. “Broderick Babcock.”

A whooshing sound like a shrill wind swept through her head. Whitney’s lips parted and she croaked out the words “Whitney Marshall.” She managed to extend her hand, but it felt limp in his.

“Sit, sit.” He waved her to a chair in front of his desk.

She dropped into the seat, inhaling sharply, struggling to comprehend what she’d just heard. How could this be Broderick Babcock? What was going on?

His bold gaze assessed her with searching gravity, then he allowed himself to smile. “People have tried lots of tricks to get in to see me when they know I’m not taking any cases because I’m overbooked, but this beats all. That’s why I told Karen I’d see you. I wanted to look eye to eye at the person who’d concoct such a story.”

Beam me up, Scottie, was all she could think. Obviously, Miranda had played a trick on her or something. “I didn’t concoct a story,” she responded in a weak but high-pitched voice, sounding like Minnie Mouse’s timid sister. “I actually thought…Never mind.” She stood with as much dignity as she could muster. “My cousin must have played a practical joke on me. Obviously, I made a mistake. I’m sorry to have taken up your time.”

“Sit down and tell me about it.” He pointed to the stacks of papers littering his glass desk. “I need a good laugh.”

Whitney had no trouble seeing how the attorney swayed juries. His words were spoken in a persuasive voice that permitted no argument. She dropped back into the chair. “My cousin convinced me that she was going on a honeymoon to Fiji. I hadn’t seen Miranda much until very recently so I hadn’t met the man she was supposedly marrying-Rick Babcock.”

“That was her first mistake. I use Broderick professionally because big fancy names impress people, especially juries. But my friends call me Rod.”

For the first time, it struck Whitney that Miranda might never have met the attorney. Strangers might think Broderick would be shortened to Rick, but his friends knew to call him Rod.

“Go on,” he prompted.

“Miranda was very convincing. She moved everything out of her place and let me have it. You see, I’m going through a divorce. Ah, actually, I am divorced, but…”

“Either you are or you aren’t. It’s like being pregnant. You’re pregnant or you’re not.” He said this in a joking tone that forced Whitney to smile, but she felt more like strangling someone-Miranda.

“I thought I was divorced.” She held up the document she’d been clutching in her left hand. “I signed an arbitration agreement months ago, then my ex reappeared. He claims it isn’t legal because it needs to be signed in front of a notary.”

“That’s correct.”

“I’m a little-” she started to say suspicious, then amended it to “uneasy because the document seems longer than the original. That’s why I decided to have an attorney review the papers. I came here because I fell for Miranda’s prank.”

He shook his head slowly, saying, “Arbitration. What a laugh. Arbitrators are usually law students who couldn’t pass the bar. People think they’re saving money. Most end up at an attorney like you.”

She smiled weakly. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. I’ll find another lawyer to review these papers.”

“It’s not a bother,” he quickly assured her. “Leave the agreement with me. I’ll have someone review it and get right back to you.”

She hesitated. “I came here because I believed Miranda’s story. I thought I could work out a payment plan because we were, you know…related.”

He chuckled again, and she couldn’t help smiling at him. She would bet he had most juries in the palm of his hand.

“I won’t charge you. This probably isn’t any big deal. Just leave the papers.” He reached across the desk, and she handed him the document. It was slightly curled from her death grip. “I’m interested in your cousin and why she made up such a wild story. Tell me about her.”

Whitney wasn’t sure where to begin. Miranda’s deception had been so unexpected. She hadn’t had time to think.

“Miranda Marshall. Do I know her?”

“Maybe. She’s my age, thirty-two going on thirty-three. We’re first cousins and look a lot alike. Blond hair. Green eyes. We’re the same size.”

“I’ve never seen you before. Trust me, I have a good memory for faces.”

She believed him. Broderick Babcock probably kept an entire law library in his head.

“Where does your cousin work?”

“She owns-owned-Marshall’s Pet Concierge. That’s a dog-walking and pet sitting service. Mostly dogs and a few cats.”

He leaned back in his chair and frowned. “I don’t have a dog. I can’t imagine where we crossed paths.”

“Maybe she just made it up. You’re very well known. It-”

“It’s still odd. I hope she didn’t spread this all around town. I’m divorced-”

“I’m sure she didn’t,” Whitney quickly told him. “Miranda warned me not to tell anyone. She claimed you wanted to keep it secret so your clients wouldn’t know you were out of town.”

“Does your cousin have a history of mental problems?”

“No, of course not,” Whitney assured him. But she realized how little she actually knew about Miranda.

RYAN CAME OUT OF Le Bistro, a fine sheen of sweat coating his entire body. Domenic Coriz had him by the balls and the prick knew it. There wasn’t any way out of this mess except to let Coriz have his way.

He sat in his Porsche and checked the messages on his cell phone. He’d had it on vibrate and knew several calls had come in while he’d been with the Native American. Ashley had left three messages. Walter Nance, the head of the group of cosmetic surgeons he was joining, had called.

Shit!

What was he going to tell Walter? He didn’t have his share of the money for the new building. He had little chance of getting it for a while.

Last night, Lady Luck had spit in his eye. He’d left Ashley for the casino in hopes of accumulating enough money on the slot machines to have a run at the craps table. He’d bottomed out.

Ryan pressed speed dial and Ashley answered on the second ring. “What’s up, babe?”

“Lexi’s back with Whitney. She called to tell us and apologized for being so hysterical last night.”

“I hope you were nice, considering…”

“Of course. I was very pleasant. She insisted I call you. She didn’t want you contacting a bunch of testing labs when Lexi was already home.”

“I appreciate that. Listen, sweetie. I’ve gotta go. I have a meeting with Walter.”

He pressed End and heaved a sigh. Under normal circumstances, he would have ridden Ashley hard for having her girlfriend swipe Lexi, but he was nearly at the point where he was going to have to confess how broke they were.

Busted!

He couldn’t imagine how Ashley would handle it if he confessed he had a gambling habit of this magnitude. She’d tried to be nonchalant but Ashley hadn’t been able to conceal from him how happy she’d been to quit her job at the cosmetic surgery center. Money had been tight her entire life. She was counting on him to support her in a lifestyle that suited someone as beautiful as Ashley.

He stared beyond the steering wheel at the wall of the restaurant. He was positive Ashley loved him. But his financial situation and his status as a doctor meant a lot to her. She deserved the best and he was going to give it to her. No matter what it took.

IT WAS AFTER LUNCH BEFORE Preston Block appeared at the gym. According to the punk manning the reception desk, Block had spent the morning visiting clients at home.

“Block,” Adam called as the buff guy slammed his car door shut.

He turned around and looked across the lot to see who had called his name. Block tried for a smile, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize the guy wasn’t thrilled to see him. “Hey! How’s the dog?”

Adam walked close enough to look into Block’s eyes. “Lexi’s home where she belongs.”

Block switched the backpack he was carrying from one hand to the other. “I really don’t want a reward. I-”

“I didn’t come about a reward. I want to know the truth. You weren’t jogging when you found Lexi, were you?”

“Of course I was.”

“Bullshit. There isn’t a Stop ’N Go on Harborside. You didn’t buy the leash there. Why did you steal the dog?”

“Man, you’ve lost it. I found her, just like I said I did.”

Adam glared at Preston Block and let his words hang like a noose in the air. Lies were like cockroaches. If you spotted one, others were nearby. A minute dragged by before Adam said, “I checked with Jake Conavey at Boomerang’s. You didn’t help out there last night.”

If Block was surprised that Adam had contacted the owner of the punk bar, it didn’t show in his face. He shrugged as if to say: So?

Adam was tempted to ram his fist down the cocky jerk’s throat. Instead, he told him, “Before my unit was called up for duty in Iraq, I was a detective with the San Diego P.D.”

That got Block’s attention. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, a visceral sign of his anxiety. Adam didn’t add that he was no longer affiliated with law enforcement. He allowed Block to assume he’d be going back to work on the police force.

“Now, this can go one of two ways,” Adam said in a casual voice. “You can tell me the truth or you can expect a lot of nosing into your personal life. I’m sure you don’t want to be looking in your rearview mirror every time you get in your car. I’m sure you don’t want to smoke a joint and wonder if you’re going to be busted. I’m sure you don’t want to be late to your clients because you’ve been pulled over for something.”

“That’s harassment. I’ll report you.”

“You’ve got a sealed juvenile record. Maybe your clients wouldn’t like you so much if they received copies of that report.” Adam was bluffing with this. It was nearly impossible to access a sealed juvenile record.

“Oh, shit!” Block glanced toward the entrance to the gym as if he expected someone to come out and help him. He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring out even more this time. “I didn’t mean any harm. I brought the dog back, didn’t I?”

“Why did you take her?” Adam ground out the words.

Block ran his shovel-like hands through his hair. “It was my plan-all mine. It seemed like a good idea at the time. She didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“She? You mean Ashley Fordham?” Seeing the pretty women featured on Block’s Web site had made Adam wonder about Ryan’s new wife, but Dr. Jox was so far from where they lived that he hadn’t been sure about the connection.

“Yeah. Look, man…Ashley wanted this new house. She was really upset. She’s been on the road her whole life. One apartment after another; one city after another.”

“A tragedy, sure, but what does this have to do with the dog?”

“I’ve been working with Ashley for three years, since she moved here to try out for Miss San Diego. We’ve become close friends. I was the only one at the funeral when her mother died. We celebrated together when the doc gave her that killer ring.”

Adam just bet Preston Block was overcome with joy at Ashley’s engagement. Any jerk could see the guy was bonkers over the bombshell Fordham had married. “Okay, pard, I get the picture. What does your friendship with Ashley have to do with the Golden retriever?”

“I thought we could use it as leverage to persuade the stubborn broad to sign some papers. Then the doc’s credit history would be clear, and they could buy a new house. Ashley told me the ex had already agreed to this settlement, but she refused to sign it now.”

Adam kicked himself for not figuring this out on his own. He’d run off Fordham while he’d been physically attempting to force Whitney to sign. “What made you return the dog in the middle of the night? Doesn’t sound like part of the plan.”

His gaze lowered, as did his voice. “The doc figured out Ashley was responsible for the dog’s disappearance-”

“Fordham didn’t know anything about it?”

“Christ, no. He went ballistic when he discovered what she’d done. He insisted Ashley have her girlfriend return the dog.”

“Girlfriend? He doesn’t know about you?”

“Nah, he wouldn’t understand our friendship.” His expression clouded. “Look, the dog’s back. No harm, no foul. Right? Don’t tell anyone what really happened. It’ll only hurt Ashley’s marriage.”

“I think Whitney deserves to know the truth.”

“What’s the point?” Block shot back. “She should do what’s right. Sign the agreement and move on. I’ll bet you anything, Whitney won’t believe her ex wasn’t involved. She’ll use it to stir things up even more. Ashley deserves a chance.”

Adam wondered if Block didn’t have a point. Whitney was seeing an attorney this morning. She expected him to okay the agreement, and then she’d sign it and return it to her ex-husband. What good could it possibly do for her to know Ashley’s personal trainer had deliberately taken Lexi? She probably would think Ryan was involved.

All right, all right. He wanted Whitney to move on with her life. If he were honest with himself, he would admit that he wanted her to make a clean break now. He believed Preston was telling the truth. Whitney’s ex hadn’t taken Lexi. Whitney had her dog back. She didn’t need to know all the details.

Leave well enough alone, he told himself.