Accused: A Rosato & Associates Novel Page 8

  “Please do,” Mary said, shaken.

  “So, you understand, that while Allegra is blessed with preternatural intelligence, she also suffers as well. The proverbial blessing and curse.”

  Mary’s heart broke for Allegra, and for all of them.

  “We don’t know the details of her fixation on the murder case, because like you, her therapist is governed by confidentiality and will share nothing with us other than her diagnosis and treatment plan. So we find ourselves, as loving parents, kept in the dark about our own daughter. And by the way, we pay for that privilege.” Anger resurfaced in John’s voice, controlled yet unmistakable. “What makes this situation so singular is, of course, money. Any average thirteen-year-old wouldn’t have the means to indulge this obsession, but Allegra is lucky, or unlucky, in that regard, too. The distribution from her trust fund has empowered her to hire you, and though we disagree with what she is doing, we are powerless to stop it. Unless you can be prevailed upon, to exercise your common sense and decline to enable her.”

  Mary didn’t realize that he’d finished the sentence. “You mean drop the case?”

  “Exactly.” John eyed her, tilting his head back. “I’ve given you a great deal of information about Allegra, and I gather much of this is news to you, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Well, then, if you are as qualified an attorney as your reputation would suggest, I would think that you would go no further with this matter. I know that some lawyers will do anything for a fee, but I had Rosato & Associates pegged as a cut above. Perhaps I was incorrect.”

  Mary took it on the chin. “We’re not in the habit of dropping a client, once engaged.”

  “Even though you know Allegra is having emotional difficulties and the lawsuit is only the expression of that?”

  Mary glanced at Judy, but she could read her mind. “We appreciate your input, but Allegra isn’t an incompetent, that is, she isn’t mentally unable to engage a lawyer.”

  “I see.” John sucked in his cheeks as if he’d eaten something sour. “So you can be bought.”

  “No, but we can be hired. And we were.”

  “Then this meeting is over.” John rose abruptly, with Jane after him, then Neil Patel.

  “Oh.” Mary realized they were being thrown out, albeit in the classiest possible way, so she gathered her stuff hastily, and so did Judy.

  “This will be the last time we meet, because we don’t wish to be involved in Allegra’s delusion, nor do we think it’s good or healthy for her. We cannot stop her from going forward, but we won’t enable it.” John paused. “We hope and pray that some good will come of this, when you find that Lonnie Stall is properly in jail. Perhaps then Allegra will put this matter behind her, once and for all.”

  Mary wasn’t about to give him any reassurance. “Thank you for your time.”

  “Yes, thanks,” Judy said, and they let themselves be escorted out by Neil Patel, who walked them in silence to a brick walkway lined with red rosebushes, which led back to the lot where they’d parked.

  “Safe travels, ladies.” Patel waved to them, then folded his arms and watched them walk toward the car.

  Mary fell into step with Judy. “Say nothing. The flowers have videocameras.”

  Judy smiled, then gestured to the lawn. “Here comes Allegra.”

  Mary turned to see Allegra hurrying across the lawn toward them, half-walking and half-skipping, looking every inch a carefree young girl, except that she wasn’t. Her thoughts were obsessive and dark, preoccupied with murder and death. Mary resisted the urge not to see her with new eyes. Allegra had a sweetness that was impossible to miss, and what Mary had heard about her only made her feel more sympathetic and protective. More than anything, Allegra needed a friend, and Mary wasn’t about to abandon her.

  “Allegra!” she called out, shielding her eyes from the sun.

  “Hi, guys!” Allegra came over, still smiling.

  “How are you?” Mary smiled back at her. “You get your hives done?”

  “Not yet.” Allegra’s smile faded, and her sharp gaze shifted from Mary to Judy and back again. “He told you I’m crazy, right?”

  Mary felt a pang, caught off-guard. “He also told us you were a genius.”

  “Same thing,” Allegra said, flatly.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Well?” Mary steered the car on roads that wound through the sunny countryside, her fingers tight on the wheel and her diamond ring blinding her.

  “Well, what?” Judy looked over with a crooked grin. “Another fine mess, obviously.”

  “What do you think? Is she crazy?”

  “Is batshit a medical term?”

  Mary felt another pang. “Aw, that’s not a nice thing to say.”

  “Then why ask me?”

  “I didn’t think you would say that. She’s sweet.”

  “And nutty.”

  “Stop.” Mary whizzed past a dairy with a herd of cows, a black-and-white blur. She couldn’t wait to get back to the city, where all the milk came in plastic containers and none of the rooms was wired. “Do you think Stall is guilty?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why?”

  “Little thing called evidence.”

  “And you think Allegra’s obsessed and delusional?”

  “Yes.” Judy kicked off her clogs and put her bare feet up on the dash, and Mary almost stopped the car.

  “No feet on the dash.”

  Judy rolled her eyes and moved her feet. “Partner attack.”

  Mary smiled. “Now tell me why you think she’s delusional.”

  “Because I’ve seen that before, when I clerked for the judge. We had case after case filed by the same litigants, and we even got to know their names. There’s a lot of sad people in this world, and they file a lot of abusive lawsuits, gumming up the courts.” Judy’s tone turned disgusted, because nobody loved the law more than she did. “It prevents legitimate cases from being heard timely, clogs the court’s dockets, and costs a fortune. Most courts have a staff attorney, whose sole job it is to handle all the pro se complaints. It’s a waste of taxpayer dollars.”

  “Unless they have merit.”

  “The abusive ones don’t. We know those litigants. They’re crazy.”

  “But politics aside—”

  “It’s not politics. One of the great things about this country is that we let everyone have his day in court, and one of the worst things about this country is that we let everyone have his day in court.” Judy turned to the window, running fingers through her raggedy blonde hair. “Anybody with a filing fee can file a frivolous lawsuit, and I’ve seen them for a ton of wacky reasons—a belief that injustice occurred, or for attention, or for something to do, or to feel important and lawyer-y, even for the drama of it.”

  “But you think Allegra is one of those?”

  “She could be, like a conspiracy theorist with no conspiracy. I get what her father is saying, I see that in her. She’s all over the bee thing.”

  Mary couldn’t buy in, so quickly. “But isn’t every teenager like that? I was obsessed with the Backstreet Boys and Boys II Men. I went to every concert and had every album, shirt, and poster.”

  “This is a murder, not a boy band.” Judy shuddered. “It’s a ghoulish preoccupation.”

  “It was her sister.”

  “All the more ghoulish.”

  “But when Mike was killed, I was overly involved with that case. I thought about it, and him, all the time. It’s part of grieving.” Mary glanced at her hand on the steering wheel, where her diamond ring blazed in the sunlight, searing her eyes.

  “She’s in treatment. She’s diagnosed.”

  “So what? Maybe I would have been, too, if I had gotten to a shrink. I just didn’t have the money.”

  “She’s not you.”

  “I know that.”

  “But you’re already too emotional about her.”

  “Of course I am. Have we met?”

 
; Judy laughed. “It’s a difference of degree, and we can’t say for sure when an avid interest in something, whether it’s murder or bees, shades into obsession.”

  “You sound checked out.” Mary turned onto a two-lane road, which was as many lanes as she was going to get out here. “Where’s your loyalty?”

  “I’m still on board, but I have my doubts about her now.”

  “Her own father slandered her.”

  “He told us the truth.”

  “He told us his view.”

  “And a professional’s.”

  “Please.” Mary hit the gas, switching lanes. “Everything isn’t a disease. Allegra wants to find her sister’s killer, so we call that ‘justice obsession syndrome’? If there is such a thing, then Bennie has it, and so do we all.”

  “You totally have it. You got it from a toilet seat.”

  “I’m lousy with it.” Mary smiled. “In fact, I’m addicted to justice. I’m a justice junkie. Treat me. Send me to rehab.”

  Judy chuckled. “No, but here’s the thing. I didn’t think it was a wild-goose chase when she came in, or us playing out some fantasy for a very confused kid. Now, I do.”

  “We don’t know that it is.”

  “We don’t know that it’s not.”

  “You’re judging her because she has emotional issues. That’s not right.”

  Judy paused. “Okay, point taken. Maybe I’m wrong. I table my objections.”

  “Thank you.” Mary checked the clock, which read 12:15. “I want to read the file and plan our next move.”

  “Our next move is obvious.”

  “But we can’t go until after we’ve read the file.”

  “Why read it? We could just ask our genius client what it says, since she memorized it.”

  Mary didn’t smile, worried.

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Because they didn’t give us the cookies.”

  “I know. Daddy punished us.”

  “We need to go back to the office, set up a war room, and order lo mein for dinner, like we always do.”

  “Can we still, now that you’re a partner?”

  “Yes, only now, I pay for the dinner that we charge to the firm. So, no appetizers.” Mary’s phone started ringing on the console. “Can you grab that?”

  “Will do.” Judy picked up the phone and read the screen. “It’s your mom and dad. I’ll put it on speaker.”

  “Damn, I forgot to call them.” Mary braced herself while Judy hit the button, and screams of excitement came from her mother, her father, and a third voice.

  “MARE! YOU AND ANT’NY ARE GETTIN’ MARRIED! CONGRADULATIONS! WHY’N’T YOU CALL US?”

  Mary flushed. “Sorry, I got busy at work, I was going to call you.”

  “S’ALLRIGHT! YOUR MOTHER AND I ARE SO HAPPY AND ANT’NY’S MOTHER IS HERE, TOO!”

  “Thanks.” Mary smiled to hear her mother talking in frenzied Italian, which was redundant. “Ma, don’t have a heart attack.”

  “Maria, Maria, I’m a so happ’ for you, so happ’!”

  Judy beamed. “It’s Judy, Mrs. D! How about this? Our baby grew up! We need grandchildren!”

  Mary smiled. “Don’t encourage her. Hi, Ma!”

  Anthony’s mother joined in, her voice raspy from years of smoking, “Mary, my new daughter! God bless you both! He’s the luckiest man in the world, and you’re the luckiest woman!”

  “Thanks, Elvira.”

  “No more with the Elvira! Call me Mom!”

  Mary liked Elvira, even though she could be annoying, but it would be weird to call her mother, especially since she’d secretly nicknamed her El Virus. Mary didn’t need another mother. She already had the best mother in the world.

  “Mare?” Elvira asked, froggy. “You there? Did we get cut off? Oh, no, Matty, we got disconnected—”

  “Elvira, I’m here,” Mary rushed to say, because any disconnection in a cell-phone call panicked her parents, requiring endless discussion about why the call dropped, who had been cut off first, what it sounded like when they were cut off, and how the old days used to be better, when phones were two cans and a string.

  “Mare, call me Mom!” Elvira croaked. “You gotta call me Mom! We’re family.”

  Judy shot Mary a meaningful look, so Mary bit the bullet. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Ha!” They all dissolved into applause and laughter, and Mary had to switch lanes not to run into the back of a construction truck.

  “Okay, I have to go! I’m in the car! I love you guys! Talk to you later!”

  “BYE, MARE! CALL US! LOVE YOU!”

  “Good-bye Mr. and Mrs. D, Mrs. Rotunno!” Judy pressed the button to end the call. “That was fun.”

  “Was it?” Mary rolled her eyes. “I have to call her Mom now?”

  “Go with it. What’s in a name?”

  “But she’s not my mother, for God’s sake. I love my mother. El Virus isn’t in my mother’s league.”

  “You’re really negative about this, aren’t you?”

  “No, I just feel, well, maybe, negative about calling El Virus my mom. Sheesh.”

  “Mary, you should go home tonight.”

  “Why? We have to work. You’re working late, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but you don’t have to.”

  “I have to read the file. You read it, and so did our client.”

  Judy clucked. “But they want to see you and celebrate with you.”

  “They just saw me. We just celebrated.”

  “That was business, and this is personal. Plus Anthony might want to see you. What if he wants to talk about it? Maybe it will help clarify your feelings.”

  Mary felt her stomach tense. She hit the gas and spotted the highway on-ramp, up ahead. “He’ll understand that I have to work late.”

  “Will he?”

  “He’ll have to.” Mary steered the BMW onto the highway and accelerated smoothly into the fast lane.

  “Mare, are you avoiding going home?”

  “No, but I won’t drop Allegra because I’m getting married.”

  “You sure that’s it?”

  “Yes.” Mary gestured at the phone. “Do me a favor and press A on my phone, to speed-dial Anthony. I’ll call and give him the heads-up. He doesn’t have class until this afternoon.”

  “Okay if I talk to him first?” Judy pressed A.

  “Sure.”

  “Anthony!” Judy said into the phone, when the call connected. “It’s me, on Mary’s phone. You’re betrothed! Congratulations!”

  Mary kept the car at speed, in light traffic. She could hear Anthony laughing, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  “Yes, she’s showing everyone that big rock you got her! You selling crack now? Ha!”

  Mary smiled. It was so touching that he’d been saving for the ring. She should wear it with pride, not guilt. He was a great guy. “Tell him I love him.”

  “She loves you, but she’s driving. We left the client’s and we’re going back to the office.”

  Mary reached for the phone. “Gimme.”

  “Not while you’re driving. Where’s your earphone?”

  “I forgot it. It’ll be two seconds.” Mary reached for the phone, but Judy pulled it away.

  “She’s grabbing the phone, but I want you to know that I’m happy for you both. Love you. Bye, here’s the love of your life.” Judy handed Mary the phone.

  “Hi, babe. How are you?”

  “Fine, sweetheart.” Anthony’s voice sounded soft and warm. “I hear my mother just called you.”

  “Right, they’re all going nuts.”

  “Tell me about it. Your mother already talked to the priest about booking the church. She got busy at morning Mass.”

  Mary cringed. “No flies on her, right?”

  “She says you need to, a year in advance.”

  Mary scoffed. “Who’s she kidding? The parish is all old people. Who’s getting married?”

  “There’s funerals.” Anthony ch
uckled. “We’ll have to talk dates later anyway, because I have to tell them at school when I want time off for our honeymoon.”

  “A honeymoon!” Mary kept her eyes on the road. Traffic was picking up, and she couldn’t begin to think about a honeymoon. “Okay, we’ll have to deal.”

  “How are you? You sound busy.”

  “Honestly, we are.” Mary felt her gut tense in a way that was uncomfortably familiar. “Can you live with it if I’m not home for dinner tonight? I have a file to read.”

  Anthony didn’t hesitate. “Do what you need to. What time will you be home?”

  “Nine, or so?” Mary didn’t even want to commit to a time. She wished she could just see how it went. Even if she finished the Gardner file, she had to work her other cases. They were on the back burner, but still simmering. Now that she’d made partner, she felt more pressure to perform up than ever. After all, Bennie was a woman with a coffee mug that read, I CAN SMELL FEAR.

  “How about I wait dinner?”

  “No, don’t.” Mary hated when he waited, which added guilt on top of guilt, like a double layer cake of guilt.

  “Okay, see you around nine.”

  “I’ll call if I’ll be later.”

  “No worries. Drive carefully. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Mary pressed End and set the phone down on the console.

  “So he’s talking honeymoon?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “Both.”

  Judy paused. “Mare. Just so you know, don’t worry about the maid-of-honor thing. You can wait to make a decision. See how you feel about getting married, in general. And if you want to have your sister be maid of honor instead of me, I’d totally understand.”

  “Aw, honey.” Mary glanced over, touched. She hadn’t thought about choosing a maid of honor, but Judy must have been, because her blue eyes were filming.

  “I mean it, really. I know I’m your bestie. Or you can have two maids of honor. Angie and I can be co-maids of honor, like co-counsel with bad dresses.”

  Mary’s throat caught. “I would want it to be you, maybe with Angie, but we can’t talk about it now or I’ll crash the car.”

  “Yay!” Judy clapped her hands, squealing with excitement, and Mary managed a smile.

  Wishing she could feel half as happy as everyone around her.