Conviction of the Heart (27 page)

“We’ll see what CSI finds on the letter. We’ll go over these computers with the tech equivalent of a microscope. We’ll find out exactly what Morgan’s up to.”

She felt better knowing he had a plan. “I appreciate you offering to take the girls to school. That’s one thing off my mind.”

“Happy to do it.” He shifted over to the love seat next to her. She snuggled into the curve of his arm. “Wish you’d let me protect you, too.”

“And give up this exciting, dangerous life? Never.” She smiled to let him know she was teasing. “I didn’t mean to keep this from you, not in a mean way. I actually thought I was helping. You’ve got enough to—”

“Hush,” he said, putting a finger to her lips. “I’m the one who saw that Maddie needed help and sent her to you. I’m in this with you.”

They sighed almost simultaneously, and Suzanne hoped he was comforted by her as much as she was by him after their long separation. “I’ll be more careful, Nick.”

“That’s all I can ask.”

She leaned against him, thinking. “You know, if we can nail him with either of these things, his case will be shot to hell. Even his own attorneys won’t be able to take him seriously after this. I wouldn’t be surprised if the divorce just moved ahead quietly to its natural conclusion.”

“I hope you’re right, babe.”

Babe.
That was a new one. She’d have to work a bit to get used to that. She’d also have to get used to her own lies. She had no reason at all to believe that Morgan was finished. Even an animal would fight like hell to protect its territory when wounded and desperate. Maddie had wounded her husband by escaping his control. Desperation was only a deposition away.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Suzanne tried to get back into the swing at work, and still keep her days short enough to spend more time at home. After all that had happened, she hated leaving the girls home alone. When she asked him to, Nick would stay till she got home, and occasionally even had dinner ready when she arrived—a treat she hadn’t expected. They became almost domestic. What surprised her the most was how much she liked it.

If balancing her concern for Nick and for her children’s safety wasn’t difficult enough, Maddie Morgan appeared at the office the following week. Her black eye showed Greg hadn’t changed his
modus operandi
.

Suzanne stared for a moment, then drew the slender woman into her office. “How did this happen? You have a protection order. He shouldn’t have been anywhere near you!”

Pathetic in a worn cotton jumper and blouse, Maddie wouldn’t look at her. She slumped on the love seat as if even her spine was ashamed. “I know I shouldn’t have listened to him, but he was just being so nice, and he sent flowers, with a card that said he was sorry. When he came last night to drop the kids off, I said he could stay for dinner. That was all. But then he wouldn’t leave.”

“When did
that
happen?” Suzanne asked, pointing to Maddie’s mottled face.

“After the children went to bed, he wanted to make love.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I kind of wanted to—I’ve been real lonely, Suzanne, I couldn’t help it! But he started to scare me, so I asked him to leave.”

“He wouldn’t?” Suzanne sat at her desk to make notes, since she’d have to file a petition asking that Greg be held in contempt of the court’s order.

Maddie shook her head. “He started getting angry when I wouldn’t sleep with him, and asked if I didn’t want to make love because my boyfriend was coming over later. I told him there was no one else, but he escalated right out of control.”

“Did you call the police to report he’d violated the restraining order?”

“I tried to. But he tore the cord out of the wall and threw the phone at me.” She grimaced. “That’s when this happened.”

“All right. I can file contempt charges, since he broke the order. The court can punish him with jail time—”

“I can’t do that! Joshua already hates me. If I put his father in jail, I’ll lose him for good. Isn’t there something else we can do?”

Suzanne considered jail might be a real good place for both Joshua and his father. She hadn’t told Maddie about what happened between her son and Suzanne’s daughter. She’d thought Greg might tell her, since they had to appear before the magistrate to deal with the charges, but Maddie hadn’t said a word. Suzanne guessed Greg had taken care of it all in secret, in the dark, the way so many of his deals were made. “You know, I didn’t tell you what Joshua has been up to. I knew you were upset that he moved back with Greg. But maybe this is something you should hear.”

Suzanne told Maddie about the night Riviera came home with the awful bruises, and Maddie’s face slowly drained of color.

“Oh, my sweet Jesus,” she whispered. “Oh, Suzanne, I never knew…I never thought Greg would stoop so low. My Joss, doing something like that?” Her eyes teared up.

“That’s what happens when the sons identify with the abuser. They go out of their way to try to be just like him. Even if they’ve suffered from the abuse.”

“I’ve got to get him out of there.”

“I’m not sure he’ll come. Right now, we’d be better off to focus on some of these other issues. Like keeping you safe.” Sizing up the woman before her, she wondered how long Maddie could hold out before she invited Greg back in permanently. It was difficult to watch abused women falling back into the same track, but Suzanne had handled enough of these cases to know they sometimes struggled through a number of separations before they could make the final break.

Maddie shrugged and wiped her eyes. “The only thing he really cares about is his money.”

Suzanne wanted the court to come down hard on Morgan, anything to shake him out of his self-satisfied smugness. “I can call his attorney to let him know what happened. I’ll tell him if Greg does it again, we’ll prosecute the contempt citation for a maximum penalty.” Her desire for revenge burned inside, and she shut the lid on it yet again.
This wasn’t the time.
“But he’ll keep on until something gets his attention.”

“I know. I’ve got to stand tough.” Maddie’s hands twisted nervously in her lap.

“Have you kept meeting with the support group at Womanspace?”

“I was going for awhile, and the kids had group, too, but they didn’t like it.” She sounded defensive. “I couldn’t leave them with Greg because of the custody order, and they didn’t want a baby-sitter.” She must have detected Suzanne’s disappointment, because she quickly added, “I know, I’m making excuses.”

Suzanne nodded. “It’s difficult. I do understand. Once the psychological evaluations are done, you can get back into a custody hearing and maybe solve those issues. You’ve met with the doctor, right? You and the kids?” Maddie nodded. “Greg will have to go, and the longer he puts it off, the more difficult it will be to convince the evaluator he’s being aboveboard.”

“What does that mean?”

“What I hope it means is that Greg will eventually give in and make a settlement on the property rather than give us an opportunity to demonstrate his mental problems in court. Wouldn’t look good to the electorate, you know.”

Maddie smiled wanly. “Appearances do mean so much.”

“You should still go to the doctor and document your injuries, in case we need to go to court. What’s your position on getting this thing finished up? The less ties he has to you, the more likely he is to move on.”

“I’m done. I know now I can’t trust him.”

Suzanne agreed. “I’ll put together a final proposal and draft a settlement agreement. His lawyer will go over it with him, and all we’ll need is a couple of signatures.”

Maddie hugged her. “Thanks, Suzanne. I’m sorry for dropping in, but I wasn’t sure what to do.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Suzanne walked her to the door. “The day will come, you know, when this will all be over.”

“If we live that long.” Maddie smiled, but there was fear in her eyes.

“Don’t worry. We’ll outlast him.” Suzanne wished she could feel as confident as she sounded.

****

Two weeks into January, and the IA investigation still hadn’t closed on Nick. Roy White was beside himself, and Nick was beginning to flake out. Suzanne had had enough frustration over the lies crucifying Nick.

One of the reasons she’d gone to law school was to right the wrongs, help those in need. She could stand by no longer and watch this injustice occur, no matter what Nick said. He might think he was handling everything well, but his usual professional demeanor had begun to crack. From what she knew of police department politics, and the odd vibrations T.R. had reported, there was more at work here than a simple mistake. Someone had to find out what.

Maybe Nick didn’t feel he could put anyone else from the department in a bad position, but Suzanne didn’t have any such reservations. Hank Ferguson had to be able to help. Nick trusted him like a brother, and he certainly had been warm to Suzanne at the Sandoval banquet. She and Nick would never be able to move forward on the road to a permanent relationship as long as this hung over their heads. She had to do something.

First, she had to get in the station.

She pinned up her hair, tucking it under a stocking cap, so it wasn’t so readily noticeable. Red hair always seemed to attract attention. A pair of old jeans and Hope’s Steelers warm-up jacket transformed her from successful attorney to potential delivery girl. She stopped at Tony’s to buy a couple of meatball subs and a bag of chips. All the way to the station, she prayed her disguise would get her through the front door and into Hank’s office, long enough to get the information she needed.

All she wanted was the name and address of Nick’s accuser. She’d find the girl herself and talk to her, find out why she was saying these things about Nick, and see if she could convince her to come forward and tell the truth.

She slouched into the lobby, chewing a wad of gum, pausing at the front desk to announce she had a delivery for Hank Ferguson. The desk sergeant hardly looked up as she waited, staring at the floor, hoping no one would recognize her. He made a quick phone call and told her to have a seat, Hank would be down.

Too nervous to sit in the well-worn leather furniture in the lobby, Suzanne paced, noting the contrast of the well-polished floors and the cobwebbed ceiling corners. The first floor of the police central administration building had been restored to its appearance a century before by some well-meaning supporters. The details along the ceiling and walls were now a cream color, the walls burgundy, and the weathered frescoes had been retouched to bring the colors to full brilliance. Taken as a whole, Suzanne decided it had been a much more baroque era. She preferred her airy flowers.

“Miss, I didn’t—”

At the first sound of Hank’s voice, Suzanne turned to reveal her face, warning him with a look not to give her away. He visibly reassessed his response, giving a quick glance around the lobby. Apparently he saw no one who alarmed him, so he came closer.

“It’s five-fifty, and I don’t have change, man,” Suzanne said. “Maybe you got exact change in your jacket?”

Take the hint, damn it.

Hank seemed to catch on slowly. “Yeah, c’mon upstairs and I’ll get your money.” He pulled her along with him past the frowning desk officer and his feeble protests about a visitor’s pass. As soon as they were out of sight, Hank’s demeanor changed, and he gave her a quick hug.”Golly! I’m happy to see you. How are you?” He hesitated as blue eyes softened, and asked, “How’s Nick?”

“I swear, you are the only person in the universe who can still say ‘Golly’ and not sound like a total goofball,” she said. On his heels all the way, she avoided eye contact with anyone else between the top of the stairs and the detectives’ offices. She noticed Washington, but he lounged on a female officer’s desk, cracking jokes. They gave her a scant look, then returned to their self-appreciation.

“Well?” Hank asked after he’d closed his door safely behind them. “How’s my boy?”

“He’s not good,” she said, her anger evidencing in a tart reply. “Pretty despondent. The investigation doesn’t seem to be moving, hmm? Bogged down in IA?”

Hank nodded. “Have a seat?”

She shook her head. “Not in character, sorry.” She handed him the bag, peeking to see if anyone in the big room through the glass windows was watching what was going on in Hank’s cluttered office. “This place is a catastrophe!”

The detective shuffled some papers on his desk, and shifted half a pile, looking for some money. Suzanne guessed Hank worked like she did, creating stacks of work in progress, probably cases in different stages of investigation. His tedious search through the morass was telling on her strained nerves. She didn’t know how much time she could spend here before she aroused suspicion.

“You know this case against Nick is bogus,” she said.

“Of course I do,” he growled. “I wish there was something I could do.”

She eyed him, an implied challenge hanging between them like fall wood smoke. “Isn’t there?”

“Like what? Look, kid, we’re all stepping carefully around here at the moment. What happened to Nick went much too smooth, and those higher up didn’t have his back. What we hear doesn’t make anyone anxious to intervene.”

What a bunch of cowards, she thought. “I see. Let me rephrase that for you. What you’re saying is that you and the rest of his so-called friends are too scared to lose your fat pensions to stick your necks out for him.”

“That’s not fair!”

Suzanne bit her lip. No reason she should take her frustration out on one old man a year away from retirement. “I’m sorry, Hank, I know it’s not your fault. It’s so frustrating to have to stand by and watch. Not even knowing who the enemy is.”

Hank glanced out his office window at the squad room. “The enemy is probably closer than you think. You’re right to worry about being here too long.” As she started to turn around, he barked, “Hold still!” The tone caused her immediate obedience. “They may not know I know. But I do. And now so do you.” His smile was grim.

They stood in silence a minute, and he visibly handed her some money, which she managed to drop back on his desk, concealed by one of the leaning stacks. “Thanks, Hank. Listen, I have this crazy idea…”