No Legal Grounds (21 page)

When the sheriff’s car took off, Sam led Case inside the house. “I thought you needed a search warrant,” Case said.
“I’m not a police officer,” Sam replied. “I’m her lawyer,

remember?”
“Yeah, how’d you justify that?”
Sam turned to him. “I gave her some advice. She followed it.

She calmed down. She’s not in her right mind. It may be right on the edge, but it’s on the edge of my representing her. And as long as I am, let’s see if we can find a contact number for Mr. Nicky Oberlin.”

That didn’t look like it was going to be easy. The house was strewn with all manner of discarded items, some of which Sam could not identify. Nor did he want to. The place smelled like something had died. A cat maybe, or a possum.

“Sweet,” Case said. “I wonder why little Nicky lets his mother live this way.”
“The way she is, it wouldn’t be a problem for Nicky to manipulate her. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had complete power of attorney over her finances. That’s going to change. I’m thinking Mrs. Oberlin needs to go to court and take back her own money.”
Case smiled. “That’s not going to make Nicky very happy. I love it.”
“Let’s check the kitchen.”
It was more of the same in the kitchen, with dirty dishes piled everywhere. The smell of old food, especially ketchup, assaulted Sam’s nose. Old pizza boxes were stacked like a record collection on one corner of the counter.
“Look around near the phone for an address book,” Sam said.
“You’d make a good PI. How about going in with me?”
“And give up show business?”
“Isn’t that what the guy who cleaned up after the circus elephants said?”
“Now you know what practicing law can be like.” He sure never imagined himself scrounging around in a depressing box like this.
There were several kitchen drawers to go through. One was stuffed with old papers and receipts. It looked like Mrs. Oberlin was a pack rat. Another drawer held an amalgamation of cutlery, some of it rusted. Whatever else Mrs. Oberlin liked to do, it appeared cutting things was one of them.
With Case still scrounging, Sam opened the back door and took a look in the yard. It was less a yard than a fenced-in plot of untended ground. Pines and wild grass and bushes Sam couldn’t identify. No cannabis, though. If Laverne Oberlin was growing pot, it wasn’t out here.
But she wouldn’t be. She was in an altered state all on her own.
“Here’s our beauty,” Case called from inside. Sam went back in and saw him holding up a little red book.

The sheriff’s station in Burrell was in the small town’s idea of a strip mall, right next to the miniscule Wells Fargo Bank. If you had to have a bank here, Sam mused, being next to the sheriff’s station wasn’t a bad location.

As soon as Sam and Case entered through the glass doors, they heard a screaming rant coming from somewhere inside.
“How dare you! How dare you!”
Deputy Bradford was at the front desk, looking as if he’d been waiting for them. He looked up from his Styrofoam cup and pointed at Sam. “I want her out of here.”
“What seems to be the problem?” Sam said.
“She’s crazy, that’s what the problem is, and I don’t have any inclination to lock her up and listen to her all day. So I’m going to release her to you, since you’re her lawyer, and issue a citation. Then you can handle her.”
“You filthy Nazis! How dare you!”
Bradford rubbed his temples. “And just so you know, we’re going to go search her place.”
“You won’t find anything of use to you,” Sam said.
“I don’t really care. I have to do something to justify this. I’m getting a warrant and my advice is that you keep her away while we’re there.”
“Communists!”
“Who do you refer your mentals to?” Sam asked.
“Now you’re making sense,” Bradford said, opening a drawer in the desk. He pulled out a single sheet in a clear plastic sleeve, turned it around so Sam could read it. “This guy’s in Willits. Half an hour away. I’ll even call him for you, give you top priority because — ”
“PACK OF ANIMALS! HOW DARE YOU!”
“Need I say more?” Bradford said.

Once again, Sam was able to calm Laverne Oberlin with the thought that she could help Nicky. He spoke softly to her in the backseat as Case drove through the pines to the town of Willits. Heart of Mendocino County, the sign over the street said.

The place looked like Burrell, only with more tourists. The McDonald’s in the midst of quaint shops was a dead giveaway that the place had been “discovered” and land values duly inflated. Further on, Case found a Victorian-style house that had been turned into professional space, and he pointed to one of the names on the sign: Karlin Banks, Psychotherapy, Holistic Mind Massage.

Mrs. Oberlin was compliant going in, but Sam was prepared for an outburst. He happily noted that the reception area of Banks’s office was almost a greenhouse of plants, offering a serene and natural feel. Laverne Oberlin actually smiled.

Sam told the girl at the desk — and she was a girl, probably Heather’s age, with a silver thing stuck through her lip — that Banks should be expecting them.

Laverne Oberlin was fondling a large fern in the corner. Sam told her that he was going in to talk to the “nice man” a moment, and would return shortly with news about how to help Nicky.

Case was behind Sam. “I’m going with you,” he said firmly. “You need to keep an eye on — ”
“Please.”
“Sorry, Gerry. I still write the checks.”
Sam went through the door alone and met a large man with gray

hair, braided on two sides, standing in the middle of the office. “I am Dr. Karlin Banks,” he said as if announcing his presence at some portal to the future. He wore a red-patterned dashiki shirt that brought a late-seventies Isla Vista memory to Sam, something having to do with a local hemp club. Banks wore stylish denim jeans and leather sandals. Had to be Birkenstocks.

Sam said, “I’ve got a very disturbed woman here who needs some help. I’d like to get a referral to a hospital for her.”
“You came to the right place, my friend.”
“Can I ask what you do, exactly?”
“Just what I say.”
“And what is mind massage?”
“The Western mindset is very rational, cognitive. That’s not bad, but it’s not enough. It’s like operating with one hand tied behind your back. I’ve also come to employ various spiritual aspects, from the Lakota community of body and spirit to Neoplatonism.”
“Okay. So how long will it take?”
“As long as it does. Perhaps you should give me the initial 411.”
Sam sighed, then proceeded to explain the circumstances of Mrs. Oberlin’s living arrangements and her concern for her son, and her reaction to being disturbed at home. When he finished, Banks seemed not in the least perturbed.
“I’m your man,” he said. “Bring her in.”
Sam went back to the reception area, where Laverne Oberlin was chatting amiably with the receptionist as Case watched.
“Laverne, there’s a man in the next room who’d like to talk to you,” Sam said.
“Where’s Nicky?”
“This man can help us all to help Nicky.”
“Is Nicky in trouble?”
“If you talk to this man, we can get Nicky the help he needs.”
“Yes. Help Nicky. Please.”
“Come with me.”
Gently, Sam took the woman’s hand and helped her out of her chair. She nodded and smiled at the receptionist.

Karlin Banks had prepared a soft chair in the middle of the room, now darkened with only candles glowing. He’d also lit some incense and had the sound of running water playing out of speakers. Case sat in a corner shadow.

Sam settled Laverne Oberlin into the chair and was impressed that Banks had managed to create an atmosphere that kept her quiet. Even relaxed.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Banks looked up at Laverne. Sam backed against the wall near Case, listening.
“Hello, Laverne,” Banks said softly.
“Are you going to help Nicky?” she said.
“I’m going to help in any way I can.”
“Is Nicky in trouble?”
“I want you to tell me about Nicky. But first I want you to relax. Do you feel relaxed?”
“No.”
“Will you do something for me, Laverne? Will you put your head back and rest it for a second?”
“Will that help Nicky?”
“I think it will. Let’s try it.”
Sam watched as Karlin Banks gently spoke to Mrs. Oberlin for several minutes, the sound of his voice merging with the whisper of the water. He was good at this part, no doubt about it. Sam started to feel pretty relaxed himself.
By the time Banks was finished, it almost seemed like Laverne Oberlin was in a hypnotic trance. At the very least, she was close to sleep, yet able to talk.
“Tell me about Nicky,” Banks suggested.
“Nicky is a good boy.”
“How is he good?”
“He loves me. He loves me more than anything in the world.”
“Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he?”
“Because it’s not allowed.”
Banks shot a look at Sam, then went back to Laverne. “Why isn’t it allowed?”
“Oh, you mustn’t talk of it.”
“Will something bad happen if we talk about it?”
“Oh, yes.”
“What is the bad thing that will happen?”
“Mustn’t talk about it. Oh no no. Hide Nicky, will you?”
For all his New Age stylings, Karlin Banks looked and sounded like a man who knew exactly what he was doing.
Banks stood and circled slowly around Laverne Oberlin, looking at her from different angles. “Why must we hide Nicky?”
“So the bad thing doesn’t happen.”
“What is the bad thing, Laverne?”
“Mustn’t talk about it.”
“Where can we hide Nicky?”
“Will you, please? Hide Nicky.”
“Where can we hide him?”
“Where he can’t see him.”
“Where who can’t see him?”
“Mustn’t talk about it.”
Banks stopped in a position behind Laverne Oberlin. Her head was back and her eyes closed.
“Where are you, Laverne?”
“With Nicky. Shh.”
“Shall I keep my voice down?”
“Yes.”
“Why must I do that?”
“So he doesn’t hear you.”
“Who?”
“Mustn’t talk about it.”
Sam saw Case register frustration. With a squint, Sam told him to hang in there. At the very least Laverne was demonstrating her need for medical help. If they could get a referral to a hospital, he could get Laverne a measure of protection under the law. Sam would file for a protective order as her attorney, get a judge involved. This would force Nicky to divulge more than he was willing, and maybe something out of that could be used against him.
Karlin Banks came back to a position in front of Laverne Oberlin and lowered his substantial frame onto a big paisley pillow on the floor. He crossed his legs again.
“Now, Laverne, I want you to know that you’re protected here. No one can get to you here. You’re free to talk. You are safe.”
“Safe?” Laverne’s voice sounded the slightest bit strained.
“Yes, Laverne.”
“No . . .”
“Safe, where no one can get to you.”
“Mustn’t talk about it . . .”
“It’s all right, Laverne, it’s — ”
Laverne bolted upright as if zapped by a thousand volts. “No! He’ll hear you! Get out! Get out!”
Banks untangled his legs and got to his knees. “Laverne — ”
“How dare you! You want us killed!”
“No — ”
Laverne Oberlin screamed.

Roz was pounding the drums in her garage when Heather’s cell phone vibrated. If it was her mom or dad, she wasn’t going to answer. Not this time. Too many words going back and forth.
Just leave me alone for a while.

But the number was one she wanted to answer.
“Hi,” she said.
“Where are you?” Lundquist asked.
“Roz’s.”
“Is that her in the background?”
“Yeah. Good stuff, huh?”
“Good. Not great.”
“What’s up?” She tried to sound breezy, but inside she was waiting for him to tell her again how great she was, how much greater she would be, and whatever else was going to put her on a cloud.

“Front row is what’s up.”
“Front row?”
“Vegas. Stacee Hartin. Remember?”
“When?”
“Can you be ready tomorrow?”
“Um — ”
“Pack something for a couple of days. We’ll have ourselves a

She hesitated, her head spinning up some dimly lit imaginings, troubling. They were offset by the picture of her on a stage in a glittering dress that barely covered her as a hundred thousand screaming fans waved and shouted at her for
more
.

At eight o’clock in the evening, Sam and Case got Laverne admitted into the hospital on Karlin Banks’s expedited request. Not even the Navajo way could calm Laverne, and just before they left with her Banks told Sam that she had some heavy stuff under the surface, only he didn’t use the word
stuff.

Sam didn’t need any convincing, and after getting Laverne Oberlin admitted, it was time for the next phase.
Outside the hospital, Sam punched in a number from the book Case had lifted from Laverne’s home.
He didn’t know if Nicky would even answer, or what his reaction would be. But it only took two rings before the voice, bloated with forced jocularity, came through.
“Sam, how’d you get this number, buddy?”
“Someone very close to you gave it to me.”
A hard silence fell on the line. Then Nicky said, “Why don’t you tell me who that is, Sammy?”
“I think you know.”
“Don’t play games, not with me. I’ll eat you for lunch.”
“Better watch what you say, Nicky. This conversation could be monitored for quality assurance.”
“You’re not going to be happy about doing this, Sammy.”
“How’s the money holding out?”
Another silence.
“All that money you’ve been living off of for the last, what, twenty years?”
“You want to get to the point, bud?”
“You’re the point, Nicky. You and your mother.”
“You’re out of your league, Sammy. You . . .”
Sam could almost hear the wheels screech in Nicky’s head, the cogs of a master manipulator snagged on a wrench. “What have you done?” Nicky said.
“It’s what you’ve done, Nicky. To your own mother.”
“You better talk, right now.”
“How’s it feel?”
“What?”
“Getting jerked around?”
“Talk to me Sammy, or I — ”
“You what? What cards have you got left?”
“Where is my mother?”
“Where you can’t get at her.”
Nicky cursed, whether out of frustration or anger Sam couldn’t tell. Probably both. This was a new turn for good old Nicky Oberlin.
“I’m warning you right now, you better — ”
“Your warning days are over, Nick. This whole thing is over. Your mother is in need of help, and the first thing she is going to get is access to her own money.”
Silence, which Sam let linger before continuing. “And then she’s going to fill in the details of the story she’s started to tell.”
“You tell me where she is. You tell me right now. You — ”
“No can do, Nick. That wouldn’t be in my client’s best interest.”
“Client? What have you — ”
“But if you follow my instructions to the letter, you can — ”
A scream pierced Sam’s ear. Then the line went dead. Sam pictured Nicky’s cogs scattering across the courtroom, his dreams of absolute mastery up in smoke.
Sam made another call.
“Linda.”
“Sam, how are — ”
“Listen. I want somebody to come over.”
“What?”
“Just till I get home. I need to wrap something up. Until then, Oberlin’s likely to do anything. There’s a guy Case knows, private security. He can use the study.”
“You think we need that?”
“Just for a night. Until I can make sure Nicky won’t be bothering us anymore.”
“How can you do that, Sam?”
“The only way I know. Leverage.”