False Accusations (22 page)

A couple of days ago, when she retrieved the messages off her home voicemail, she was unnerved by one from Catherine Parker, a woman out of Phil’s past whom he had not spoken to in nearly fifteen years. For a long time, it was a name and only a name, until she caught a glimpse of some pictures that Jeffrey had placed in an old shoebox.

Aside from the pictures, she vaguely remembered the stories that Jeffrey and Phil used to tell when talking of what fierce competitors they had been during their childhood. And from what she could recall, during their teen years, Catherine was considered the ultimate prize. But neither of them had brought her up in at least a decade, at least as far as she knew.

Now here was a message on their voicemail.

Why had she called? What did she want? She couldn’t possibly know that she had left Phil. Unless he had called her first. No, it didn’t sound like that. This was a
person-from-the-past-trying-to-reestablish-contact
kind of message. With
a hi-remember-me
flavor.

Leeza picked up the phone for the fourth time. Punched in the numbers. Felt nauseated, dirty. She spoke to the Energy Data Systems receptionist and was placed on hold.

A moment later, someone picked up the line. “This is Catherine.”

“Yes, hello, this is Leeza Madison, and you left a message on my voicemail.”

“A message...oh, that,” Catherine said, playing it out just a bit. “It’s already been returned.”

“It was. Oh,” Leeza said, unsure of what to say next. “By my husband?”

“Is Phillip Madison your husband?”

“Yes.”

“That’s who returned the call.”

“Do I know you?” Leeza asked, playing dumb, trying to prolong the conversation.

“We’ve never met. I’m...an old friend of Phil’s. I hadn’t spoken to him in years and I was going to be in Sacramento, so I thought he and I could get together.”

Get together,
she replayed in her head.
She got together with Phil.
“Okay. Well, as long as you spoke to Phil...”

She was beginning to feel awkward, realizing that she never should have called her. It was a mistake. There was nothing to gain here. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

“Leeza, wait. Don’t hang up.” She paused for a second, then said, “I think you’re a very lucky woman.”

Leeza did not reply.

“I don’t mean to meddle in your personal business,” Catherine said, “but I feel that I have to tell you something. Woman to woman.”

Oh, here it comes.
Her heart sank; she felt weak.
She slept with him. That bast—

“Your husband’s very loyal to you. He loves you a great deal.”

“What do you mean? How do you—”

“I had dinner with him a couple of nights ago. I’d read in the paper that you’d left him. The press catches everything.” She paused; there was no response from Leeza. “Anyway, I don’t know if you know this, but Phil and I almost got married fifteen years ago. I left him for another man who turned out to be a shadow of the man Phil was—I mean, is. I have to admit that I wanted him back. And I tried my best—I put everything out on the table. But he wasn’t there for the taking, Leeza. Turned me down. I pushed, he retreated. Said that you were too important to him.”

Leeza was still silent. Another deafening second passed.

“Leeza, are you still there?”

She had not thought of all the things that could be happening to Phil while she was gone. He’d had dinner with an old girlfriend and she hadn’t even known. Had she been too quick to rush to judgment?

“Leeza?”

She cleared her throat. “Yes. Yes, I’m still here. Sorry. This has just caught me a little off guard.”

“Nothing happened between us. He wouldn’t allow it—not that I didn’t give it everything I had...”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“That’s a fair question, I guess.” She paused. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but if it was so terrible that you could never be comfortable with him again, then let him go. Let him get on with his life. You make your separation official, I can—” She stopped, as if gathering her thoughts. “Look, sorry to be so blunt, but I’ve had a miserable fifteen years. I made a bad decision a long time ago and I’ve tried to live with it and move on. But I’ve now got an opportunity to make right what’s been so wrong.”

“And that’s it?”

“Well, I care a great deal for Phil. He’s a special person. He’d do anything for those he loves. I don’t want to see him hurting so much. If my telling you this brings you two back together, then so be it. I hurt him very much a long time ago. This would be my way of making up for it.”

“I don’t know what to say, Catherine. I appreciate your candor.”

“Consider your situation very carefully, Leeza. Because I’ll be waiting.”

Leeza thanked her and hung up. She felt uneasy at the thought that this woman had made a pass at Phil—and he’d had dinner with her! What was he thinking? Anger mixed with guilt as her emotions swung back and forth like a pendulum.

What a strange, unnerving conversation.

CHANDLER ARRIVED on the 8 P.M. flight, exhausted. Denise had worn him out while he was in town, making sure to cover the days when she was ovulating. Noah, glad to see his father, had him running around on the weekends through parks, bowling alleys, and toy stores. Chandler even had the courage to return to work, weathering a bluster of Hennessy’s threats and obscenities. Hennessy became particularly hot when he first told him he was going back to California for a few days to finish his work on the Madison case.

“You’ve only been back two weeks and you expect me to let you go again? You’re not God, you know. You’re replaceable.”

“Then replace me,” Chandler said, turning and heading for the door. “This goes beyond employment, chief. I owe this man big. I’ll be back in a few days, I promise.”

“Don’t you walk out of here, Chandler,” Hennessy shouted as the door closed.

Chandler hurried off down the hallway before Hennessy came after him hurling pointed objects.

Five days later, Madison picked Chandler up at Sacramento International and briefed him in on the episode with Catherine. He told Chandler he didn’t think it had any great significance to his case, but he wanted to make sure he knew everything that had transpired.

Chandler was livid when he heard that the district attorney had refiled the charges. He knew instantly that it was a political move, a fact that Hellman and Madison had already gathered. But whatever the motivation, it did not matter. The charges were there and had to be dealt with.

Chandler thought Madison could use some positive news, so he told him that he had gathered some interesting material on Harding before leaving for New York.

“You spoke to everyone on the list I gave you?”

“And more. I figured the people on the list you gave me would lead me to others. I may have struck pay dirt on one of them. He sounded particularly interesting, but I couldn’t meet him before I flew out. I called him yesterday and made an appointment for tomorrow. I feel real good about this one.”

“What have you got?”

“I’ll let you know all the details once I meet with him. I don’t want to get your hopes up.”

They arrived home at nearly nine o’clock. Madison pulled the car in front of the house to unload Chandler’s suitcase. As he inserted his key in the door, it swung open.

“Surprise!” Elliott shouted.

“Daddy, Daddy!” Jonah said as they both huddled around him.

“What are you guys doing here?” Madison asked, a broad smile spreading across his face.

“Decided we’re stronger as a family if we’re all together,” Leeza said, walking into the hallway behind them. She caught sight of Chandler and a broad grin spread her cheeks. “Ryan—it’s been awhile.”

Chandler stepped around the boys and gave Leeza a hug. “Welcome home.”

“Look what I made,” Elliott said. It was a multicolored drawing of something that looked like monsters perched on a hill. It was, the boy explained, a crude rendition of everyone in the family standing on the front lawn.

“I’ve missed you guys so much,” Madison said, squeezing the boys and giving Leeza a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll just get this stuff up to the guest room,” Chandler said tactfully, giving them a chance to spend some much-needed time together.

Madison sat on the edge of his four-poster bed, watching Leeza unpack a few things. “I missed you so much, hun,” he told her.

She stopped unpacking and walked over to sit down next to him. She ran her fingers through his hair and looked into his eyes. “I missed you too,” was all she said. He sensed she wanted to say more, but he realized it was probably too soon.

He took her hand and kissed it, then drew her close and hugged her. She pulled up on his shirt, exposing his skin, then ran her fingers across his back. She slid her hands around to the front of his pants, where she unbuckled the belt and pulled the zipper down. She kissed him once on the lips, and then knelt at the foot of the bed. He lay back, forgetting for the moment what the future held...the uphill battle for his life.

As they lay in bed, Leeza cuddled up to him under the warm and fluffy down comforter. She must have felt the tension in his body, because she suddenly lifted her head and studied his face.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Something’s bothering you,” she said. “I can tell.”

“It felt good to forget about things for a while,” he said. “But the problem is, it’s like a vacation. Once it’s over, all of your problems are still there.”

She placed her head on his chest. “We’ll get through this, I promise.”

“The last few days I’ve found myself obsessing about prison. There was this story Jeffrey told me awhile back. A dentist was convicted of raping and killing a patient while she was under anesthesia. They threw him in a maximum security prison, and the other inmates used his rectum as if it were a hole in a dam that needed continuous plugging.” He looked down at her. “The guards didn’t do anything to stop it. His lawyer tried to get him transferred twice, but it fell on deaf ears.

“A couple of years later,” he continued, “they started allowing DNA evidence in court. They tested the dried semen they’d found on the woman—and it didn’t match. They realized they’d made a mistake, that it probably had happened just like the dentist had claimed: someone came into his office, knocked him out, and raped that patient. He was innocent. They tried to get the evidence admitted so that he could be released from prison. But the day that the judge had ruled the new evidence admissible, they found his body in the corner of the showers. He’d been beaten so badly that his face was barely recognizable. His skull had been crushed.”

He looked down at Leeza’s face as it rested on his chest, rising and falling with his respiration. She lay still. “I forgot about that story until I read about a similar case a few days ago.”

She began to rub his stomach. “You can’t think about those things, honey. You’re innocent, and you have to believe in yourself, that justice will prevail and they’ll dismiss these charges. Or that the jury will see right through their case and find you not guilty.”

He sighed heavily. “It’s a scary thought. Leaving your fate up to twelve people who don’t know you. Would you trust your life to twelve people you never met if it weren’t in the context of a trial?” He paused, but not long enough for Leeza to answer. “Of course not. Who in their right mind would even consider doing such a thing?”

“As flawed as our legal system is at times, at least it gives you a chance to prove your innocence. To stand up and present evidence in support of yourself.”

He lay there, taking in what she was saying, but not responding. As stimulated as he was only a few moments ago while making love, his body was now numb.

“Right now,” she said, stroking his face, “you’ve put your fate in the hands of two people you trust, who know you very well. Jeffrey and Ryan will pull you out of this mess somehow. I have faith in them.”

CHANDLER WAS UP at six, planning his day. His first appointment was at eight o’clock, with Mark Stanton of Stanton Management Consultants, Inc. Brittany Harding had been an employee of Stanton’s two years ago, and he had told Chandler that he would be willing to discuss his former employee provided it was kept confidential. Chandler met him in their large, plush downtown office that overlooked the snaking Sacramento River.

Stanton was a tall man at six foot five, with chiseled facial features and jet black hair. The kind of good looks that exude confidence and success. He greeted Chandler with a smile and a firm handshake. Plaques of accomplishments and achievements lined one of the walls adjacent to his large maple desk.

Chandler slipped into one of the leather chairs and displayed all forms of his law enforcement identification, past and present, for Mark Stanton to review. He scanned each one of them and handed them back to Chandler. “What can I do for you?”

“As I told you the other day, I’m looking for information regarding Brittany Harding.”

“You said something about Miss Harding being involved in a crime your friend’s been accused of.”

“That’s right.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Stanton said, leaning back in his large chair. “That woman was nothing but trouble for me from the day I hired her.”

“How so?”

“Look, can we cut to the heart of the matter? I have an appointment in fifteen minutes,” he said, stealing a look at what appeared to be a Rolex, “and I believe I know what information you’re after.”

Chandler raised his eyebrows. He didn’t think it would be this easy. “Let’s hear it.”

“Two months after Harding was hired, I was having some difficulty collecting from a rather large account of mine. At the time, it was sixty percent of my income, so it was killing me—totally hamstringing my ability to do business. I started taking measures to protect my company’s solvency, which involved pay cuts, doing away with overtime for a couple of account managers, and eliminating one of my support staff positions—the one Harding happened to hold. The day before I was going to terminate her, she informed me that it would be a mistake if I let her go. I took it to mean that she thought she was a valuable employee, and that laying her off would be a loss to the company. I didn’t see it as a threat. I explained to her that it wasn’t really my choice, that I needed to make some difficult decisions.”