Taggert was at her desk.
“Wonderin’ when you were goin’ to show up,” she said.
“What are you talking about?”
“They’ve been meetin’ for a while.”
“Who?” said a bewildered Robie.
“Your father and his lawyer.”
“Toni Moses is in with my father?”
“She doesn’t let the grass grow under her pumps.”
Taggert led him back into the cellblock area, but past the actual cells.
“Where are we going?” asked Robie.
“Visitor’s room.”
“Didn’t know you had one.”
“Where else would visitors meet with prisoners?”
“I met with my father in his cell.”
“Well, I was afraid he’d get violent with you.”
“He did get violent with me, Sheila,” barked Robie.
“See, it was good I kept you two in the cell then.”
She opened a door at the end of the hall and ushered Robie in before leaving him and closing the door.
Toni Moses was seated at the small table in the center of the room. His father sat opposite, his shackles locked into a steel ring mounted on the floor.
Moses looked up and did not seem unduly surprised by Robie’s appearance. “Glad you’re here. Have a seat.”
Next to her was a stack of files. She had a legal pad in front of her and was busily jotting down notes.
Robie eyed his father, who had not yet looked at him.
“I thought you said he had to sign the retainer agreement.”
With her free hand Moses held up a document. “He already signed it.”
“Then why did you tell me I had to get him to sign it?” said Robie, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.
“I guess I wanted to give you a goal to shoot for, Robie. Never thought you’d actually get it done, so I did it myself.”
Robie eyed his father. “So you agree you need a lawyer?”
Dan Robie looked at Moses. “Why is he here?”
“He’s a client.”
“Not with me he’s not. And his being here breaks attorney-client privilege.”
Robie sat down. “I signed the agreement, too.”
“Then take off your signature or I represent myself.”
Robie looked at Moses. “What if I’m working for the defense?”
“How do you mean?” said an interested-looking Moses.
“As your private investigator.”
“Bullshit,” said Dan.
“I have one of those already,” said Moses.
“I’ve been out to see Tuck Carson and his son. I’m not sure how they could have seen my father late at night, in a swirl of dust and headlights zooming past them. The kid wears glasses and he probably didn’t have them on that night. And the father likes his beer. He drank down a whole one while I was talking to him. So I don’t think their eyewitness testimony stands up.”
He looked at his father. “Unless you tell us you were driving at that spot at that time in your Range Rover and almost hit the Carsons.”
“I don’t have to tell you anythin’,” said the older Robie, looking pointedly at his son.
Robie turned back to Moses. “I can work on the case. I can dig stuff up. I can check things out.”
“I guess you’re expectin’ to get paid?” said Moses.
“No, I’m not.”
“Well, then that works for me. If you know what you’re doin’, that is. No margin of error here.”
“I don’t want him workin’ on my case,” yelled Dan.
Moses put up a hand. “Judge Robie, with all due respect, you’re not the one makin’ the decisions on things like that. I am.”
“And I’m payin’ for your services.”
“She put the five grand retainer on my credit card,” pointed out Robie.
“And I had her cancel that and put it on mine,” countered his father.
“What the hell is your problem? I’m trying to help you.”
“And I don’t remember askin’ for your help, boy.”
Moses stood. “Look, you two knuckleheads, I’m tryin’ a case for murder in the first degree.” She turned to Dan Robie. “Your butt is lookin’ at goin’ away for the rest’a your life. So pardon me if I avail myself of help in defendin’ you.” She turned to Robie. “I have no idea why you dragged your butt back here ’cept you got some daddy issues need sortin’ out. But if you’re workin’ this case for me, you don’t do nothin’ that’ll jeopardize my defense, you hear me?”
“I hear you.” He studied her. “Now you really sound like you’re from Mississippi, not Harvard.”
“Hell, baby, when I go in that there courtroom you won’t hear nothin’ but Mississippi come out my damn mouth.”
She sat. “Now what you said about the Carsons is interestin’ and helpful. And it would be more helpful if your daddy would tell us whether he was out that night or not drivin’ in his Range Rover.”
Robie looked at his father. “Were you?”
Dan Robie simply looked away.
Robie turned back to Moses. “Can I get a copy of the file on this case? I assume the prosecution has to turn over its stuff to you.”
“Aubrey Davis had been duly informed of my appearance and he promised that his office will forthwith be sending me their evidence. I will not hold my breath while I wait. But when I get it so will you.”
Robie nodded. “Do you think you can get him out on bail?”
Moses shrugged. “Well, I need to see these credible threats Aubrey is going on about. Maybe we don’t want him out on bail.”
“Do you want to be out on bail?” Robie asked his father.
His father said nothing.
Robie rose. “Well, good luck with your client. When you get the files let me know.”
“Where are you goin’ now?” asked Moses.
“To check out some things.”
“Well, then report back to me with whatever you find.”
Right before Robie hit the door his father said, “If you’re doin’ this to make amends, don’t bother. It’s too damn late for that.”
Robie took a cue from his father and said nothing. He just left.
Moses turned to Dan Robie. “Whether you beat this or not, Dan Robie, let me tell you somethin’.”
“What?” snapped the man.
“You’re a damn fool.”
Chapter
29
It was one o’clock in the morning and Will Robie was on the move. He preferred to do his work at night.
He had returned to the Willows and had dinner with Victoria and Tyler. The little boy had stared at his far older stepbrother the entire meal. Robie had once caught Tyler smiling at him.
Afterward, Victoria had shown Robie a picture that Tyler had drawn. It was stick figures, one big and one small, and a large heart was drawn between them.
“I guess you are officially loved,” said Victoria.
Robie had taken the picture, carefully folded it, and slipped it into his pocket.
When he’d told her about Moses meeting with them, she had asked, “Do you think he’ll seek bail?”
“Too early to tell. We need to evaluate the credible threats first.”
Now he stared up at the house. Clancy’s mansion. Dark and hopefully empty. He had seen Pete Clancy head out in his Porsche a half hour before. Probably to go drinking with his buds.
Robie made his approach from the rear. He had seen signs stuck in the ground announcing that there was a security system in place here. He doubted Pete would make use of such a thing, but he would need to check.
He reached the rear porch. The same one Pete had thrown up on. Robie noted with disgust that the vomit, hardened and dried out, was still there.
What a catch he would make for some young woman.
He peered through the glass and noted the alarm pad on the inner wall. It glowed green and thus off. He tried the door. Locked.