"Hello?" Hank said, and Nat felt a warm rush at his voice.
"Babe, it's me."
"Nat? I can't hear you too well. We're in the middle of a game here. Lemme call you back."
"No, wait-"
"Call you later. Love you."
Great. The dial tone came back on. Nat tried again, but no answer. She checked her watch. Almost eleven o'clock. She had to get a lawyer, tonight. She thought of Angus. He'd been in the back of her mind anyway, taking up permanent residence. She called information for the hospital again, dialed his room, and he picked up. "Angus?"
"That you, Natalie? I've been calling your cell for the past hour. What happened with Barb?"
"How long you got?" Nat collected her thoughts and told him the story tersely. He listened in shocked silence. Then she got to the point: "I think I need a criminal lawyer."
"Of course you do! Jesus, God. Listen, don't worry. I know everybody in criminal defense. I wish I could be there myself." Angus cursed in frustration. "You know the drill, though. Don't say a thing.”
“Of course."
"Not a thing! Don't try to convince them, because you can't.”
“I won't."
"God knows what's going on out there. I can't believe this.”
“And Barb? Can you imagine?" Nat felt sick inside, but she'd had time to think. "Somebody must want whatever it is she has. Did they try to kill her to get it? Or did she find it after I left, and they took it and shot her?"
We'll sort it out later. In the meantime, focus on yourself. I'll have one of the best criminal lawyers in town there in an hour. Sit tight.”
“I don't have much choice."
Natalie, everything's going to be all right," Angus said softly, which was exactly what she needed to hear.
An hour later, back in the interview room, the initial shock had worn off, and Nat was wrapping her mind around her own predicament. They couldn't connect her to the murder, simply because there would be no evidence. She hadn't done it, so she had nothing to worry about. Reason reigned, even in Chester County. The next time the door to the interview room opened, Trooper Mundy stuck his head inside, then admitted someone else.
"Ms. Greco, your attorney is here. We'll give you a few minutes with him, then we'll be back."
"Thanks." Nat rose as Mundy shut the door, leaving her alone with a balding, preppy sixty-year-old in rimless glasses. He wore a red paisley bowtie and a black topcoat that looked like cashmere, and he carried a leather envelope with an expensive patina. He was hardly what she expected, but top criminal lawyers made great money and appearances could be deceiving. For example, she was covered in horse manure.
"Hello, I'm Carter Brooke," the lawyer said. He extended a hand, then stopped in midair with a slightest sniff. "Too bad they didn't let you wash up."
"They couldn't."
"Why not? It's just rude." Brooke's eyes glinted gray as Nantucket Sound.
The question only confused Nat. "They'll have to do a residue test on my hands, to determine if I fired a gun. Though the mud will mask the fact that I haven't, so the lack of residue won't prove my innocence. That's not good." She eyed her filthy hands with dismay. "They want everything according to procedure because they think I shot a cop, which of course, I didn't."
"Right. Let's get down to brass tacks. We don't have much time.' Brooke slid out of his topcoat, revealing a full-dress black wool tuxedo with satin lapels and red paisley cummerbund.
"A tux?" Nat asked, astounded.
"I was at dinner."
"In a tux?"
"A firm dinner." Brooke folded his topcoat carefully, then set it on the cleanest chair he could find, which was none.
"What firm are you with?"
"Dechert."
"Really?" It was one of the best firms in town. For bankers. "They do criminal cases?"
"I do, most of them. I've represented major clients in antitrust probes and SEC investigations, from target letter to trial."
But all white-collar work. "Have you ever tried a murder case?"
"Well, no." Brooke pulled over one of the broken-down chairs. "But this shouldn't be too difficult tonight. We'll get co-counsel if they charge you. By the way, I hear you're a fellow Yalie."
Nat was stumped. "Angus said you were one of the best criminal lawyers in town."
"Angus who?" Brooke withdrew a black Mont Blanc from inside his tuxedo, just as the door opened and the two troopers reentered the interview room.
"Okay, folks, let's get this show on the road." Mundy pulled up his chair, and the other trooper took a chair off to the side, but Nat wasn't finished with her conversation.
"Angus Holt," she said to Brooke. "He sent you here, didn't he?"
"I don't know any Angus, except steak." Brooke sat down, brushed off his tuxedo pants, and extracted a fresh legal pad from his leather envelope. "I was called by your father. Greco Construction has us on retainer."
Oh no. Mr. Tuxedo must've gotten here before Angus's lawyer. "How did my father even know I was here?"
"I don't know." Brooke expertly twisted off the gleaming top of his Pen between thumb and index finger.
"Wait, hold on." Nat turned to the troopers, raising her hand like a Nervous 1L. "Trooper Mundy, this isn't my lawyer."
"What are you talking about?" Mundy glared at Brooke, who stiffened defensively.
"Yes, I am.”
“No, I have another lawyer coming. I want to wait for him." Nat turned to Brooke. "I'm sorry. It's nothing personal." But the other guy will know what he's doing.
"We're not playing games here," Trooper Duffy interjected, his eyes hard. "You have a lawyer present and he's more than qualified. We can't wait anymore, and as long as you're represented, we have no legal obligation to wait." He turned to Brooke. "Are you willing and able to serve as counsel?"
"Certainly." Brooke looked matter-of-factly at Nat. "Maybe I'm not whom you expected, but the sooner we get this started, the sooner you can get home."
Nat considered it. She could probably represent herself at this stage. Hell, even Jelly could represent her at this stage.
Way to go, Dad. "Okay, let's proceed," she said, then braced herself.
Chapter 26
Nat went through the preliminaries as if they were happening to somebody else. She mechanically signed the statement that said she'd been informed of her Miranda rights and had given consent for the troopers to search her car, which had already been impounded. She watched silently as Trooper Duffy set up the black videocamera and aimed it at her, as she sat opposite Trooper Mundy, who was trying hard to reestablish their love connection. He had already brought her a cup of hot coffee.
"Told you," Mundy said, when she took a sip. "If you want me to get you a sandwich that tastes like sawdust, I can do that, too."
Nat shook her head. Brooke settled next to her and started writing on his pad, as did Duffy, who took a seat to Mundy's left, on his side of the fake-wood table.
Mundy began, "Well, I don't pull any punches, Ms. Greco. You're a direct person, and so am I. How about I tell you what we know at this time, and maybe you'll tell me what you know."
"We're listening," Brooke answered, for both of them. "By the way, may I call you Nat?". "No, Brooke answered again, and Nat thought maybe he'd work out after all. Her gaze shifted to the black lens of the camera, then shifted away. It was making her nervous.
Mundy continued. "Okay, tonight at around 10:35 p.m., one Barbara Saunders was found by her sister, shot, when the sister got home from the movies. Mrs. Saunders was found in the garage, lying on the floor. The sister called 911 immediately, and they appeared quickly on the scene, though Mrs. Saunders had lost a lot of blood."