~ Deception ~ Part Six
© By E. O’Rielly June 2006
eorielly@yahoo.com
This is an adult story that primarily features stories involving women. If it is illegal in the state, province, or country in which you live; or if you are under the age of 18, please close this story and find something else to read.
There are consensual sexual relations between adult women, which may be graphically explicit.
There are elements of strong language, violence, physical and/or mental, as well as some emotional hurt and discomfort in the story.
The events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to actual events and/or people is purely coincidental.
Dedication: Into everyone's life comes a person that challenges them to become more than they are by not accepting mediocre. J.M. Dragon has been such a friend to me and without her input and encouragement, I could never have written this or anything else.
Special Thank You: To my friends T and Kay for giving me invaluable feedback
Lane sat patiently at the defendant’s table listening and watching as Lydia gave her testimony. Recalling her past meetings with the woman, Lane remembered a smiling girl with a killer body. Now, Lydia seemed small and fragile. Nevertheless, when it came time to cross-examine her she would go for the jugular. She had taken part in enough trials to know how to play to win. Lydia would have to suffer any of the arrows needed to free Bryce. Looking over at the now familiar drawings, Lane, surprised to see a delicate portrait rather than an exaggerated caricature, touched the drawing and looked curiously at Bryce.
Bryce, feeling exposed, quickly tried to cover the piece of paper but her hand collided with the one touching the paper. She pulled back and turned her eyes away refusing to look in her lawyer’s direction.
Lane shook her head. What’s that all about? She didn’t have time to dwell on the thought when she heard the DA winding down his walk down memory lane with Lydia. Lane looked at the juror’s faces – they obvious felt sympathy for the girl who had lost not only her parents, but also a man she viewed as a father. Standing up, her face softened with a sympathetic smile.
“Good afternoon Lydia.” Lane’s voice said with a sickening sweetness. “Are you okay? Would you like to take a break before we begin?”
Lydia wiped away an errant tear. “No…it’s ok,” she said in a shaky voice.
“Good.” Again, Lane smiled and, with a voice filled with softness and compassion, she began her questioning. “You said in your earlier testimony that your aunt and uncle took you in after your parent’s died. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone else want to take you in?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Were there any other people who wanted you to come live with them?”
“Yes.”
“Who would that be?”
“Sam and Margarita.”
“Clayton?”
“Yes.”
“What was your parent’s relationship with them?”
“They were friends.”
“Did you ever visit them?”
“Yes, we used to go to their house or they’d come to ours all the time.”
“Why didn’t you go live with them?”
Lydia’s eyes flashed to her aunt. When she received a positive nod, she said, “Because family takes care of family. The Claytons weren’t family.”
“Did you want to live with your aunt and uncle or the Claytons?”
The young woman fidgeted with a soggy, linty Kleenex. “I belonged with my aunt and uncle.”
“Would you have rather lived with the Claytons?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“You said that your uncle treated you like his daughter and taught you all about ranching. Did he teach you how to ride?”
“No.”
“Who taught you?
“My aunt.”
“I understand she is an accomplished equestrian. Do you have a horse of your own?”
“Yes.”
“Did you buy the horse or did someone buy it for you?”
Lydia frowned slightly. “My uncle took me to a horse auction a few months after I got there and told me I could have anyone I wanted.” Short answers…remember to give only short answers. Lydia reminded herself.
“What kind of horse did you chose?”
“A ten year old mare named Lucy.”
“What color is your horse?”
“Black.”
Lane drew in a deep breath for the next question. She knew she would be playing fast and loose and undoubtedly, the DA would object, but it was necessary. “ Lydia, what cup size is your bra?”
“Your Honor, I object. That question is completely out of the scope of this testimony.”
Before the judge could speak Lane said, “Withdrawn.” She noticed the juror’s eyes fixed on Lydia’s ample breast.
“The jury will disregard the last question. Ms. Cuthbert, I don’t want to warn you again.”
“Yes, your Honor. I’m sorry it won’t happen again.” Lane turned her attention towards the witness. “ Lydia, how close were you and your uncle?”
“He was like a father to me.”
“Isn’t it true that you and your uncle often went out to dinner together without your aunt?”
“Objection, she is leading the witness.”
“I’ll rephrase. Did you and your uncle go out to dinner alone?”
Green eyes darted around the courtroom. “Yes.”
“Where was your aunt?”
“She had other things she was doing.”
“Were you and your uncle intimate?”
“Objection,” the DA shouted.
“Your Honor, the DA opened this line of questioning when he asked about the relationship between Preston Garrett and his niece.”
“Overruled. You may answer the question.”
Lydia seemed to evaporate into the chair as tears cascaded down her cheeks. “He was my uncle,” she said in her smallest little girl voice. The tattered tissue dabbed at her eyes leaving traces of soggy lint behind.
Lane picked up a box of Kleenex and offered Lydia one. “Thank you.”
“Did he molest you?” Lane asked compassionately. She had learned long ago that if you acted as if you were sympathetic to the victim the jury might not hold the harsh questions against her.
From the back of the courtroom Lane heard, “Stop this stop this now! Preston is dead what good is it to air this now?” Marcia Garrett’s eyes cut into Lane with venom.
“Order, order in the court,” Judge Aniline shouted as he hammered his gavel repeatedly. “I will not tolerate any outbursts in my courtroom. Madam, I would suggest you sit down right now!”
Marcia Garrett looked around and seemed genuinely mortified at her outburst. She shook her head, and then moved down the row until she came to the aisle. With a brief look of regret, she exited the courtroom.
“Will you please read back the last question,” the judge asked of the court recorder.
“Ms. Cuthbert – Did he molest you?”
“You must answer the question,” Judge Aniline said to Lydia.
Inconsolable tears flowed down Lydia’s cheeks shaking her body uncontrollably with each sob. “Your Honor,” Lane said with genuine empathy, “can we take a short break so the witness can calm herself?”
Judge Aniline rapped his gavel. “Court is adjourned until two thirty.”
+ + +
“What I told you about my conversation with Lydia regarding her uncle’s abuse was said in confidence. You had no business bringing that up in there,” Bryce shouted pointing towards the court room.”
Lane’s eyes flared as she grabbed Bryce’s arm and spun her around. Going toe to toe with the woman she lowered her voice and said, “I didn’t betray your confidence! Practically everyone I spoke with suspected there was a relationship between them.” Hazel eyes fixed on grey blue and held them. “What part of, you are on trial for murder, don’t you get? I am on your side Bryce.” She tried to release the eye contact but Bryce’s gaze kept her pinned. “I have to question her about this if we are going to have a chance of winning,” she said softly. “It goes to motive and whether anyone else may have wanted to see Garrett dead.”
Clenching her fists, Bryce countered, “You don’t have to be so vicious in your questioning.”
“Yes, I do.” Then Lane took back control and moved towards the window.
Bryce watched her lawyer with a new found respect. Not many had the courage to get in her face but the small woman had done just that on more than one occasion. Her eyes raked over the woman whom she had watched ever since she arrived in town. Lane was exactly the type of woman she dreamt about having a long and loving relationship with, but even if the lawyer was interested in her, it was impossible. People around these parts would never understand or allow me, or her, to live an openly gay lifestyle.Anonymous encounters are all I can ever hope to have. Yet, she is becoming more and more of a temptation. Sitting next to Lane each day in court, had Bryce’s imagination creating numerous scenarios that made the impossible possible. Often she would gaze at the body pacing in front of the jury and visualize lying naked next to her.
“Look, Lane, I’m sorry. Lydia suffered so much at the hands of her uncle when he was alive she shouldn’t have to continue down that path now that he’s dead.”
The lawyer turned and gave her client a curious look. That’s the first time she’s ever called me by my first name. A fragment of excitement tried to make its way to the surface but she squelched it immediately. Lane sighed. “My little voice is telling me that Lydia will deny being molested so it would seem that she is allowing him to control her from the hereafter.”
Creasing her eyebrows, Bryce shook her head. “Tell your little voice it is way off base. What reason would she have to deny anything? The man is dead and no longer a threat to her. Unless…” Bryce’s eyes lit up. “Unless she is protecting someone else.”
“Like who?”
“I don’t know.” Bryce seemed to be contemplating the question. “Maybe someone that is close to her.”
Hazel eyes fixed on the dark haired woman with meaningful contact. Damn, what’s going on with me? Oh yeah, it’s been a while since I had any. Lane shook off the direction her mind wanted to go and focused on Lydia’s testimony. “When Lydia came to the ranch on her horse how did she get through the gate?
Lane furrowed her brow. “She didn’t. There are all sorts of pastures and fences between properties that a horse can pass through.”
“Hmm, so if someone wanted to get onto the ranch by not going through the gate they could?”
“Yeah, if the knew the right paths.”
Lane jotted a quick note on a legal pad then looked up at Bryce. “You know, if she does deny being molested, you will have to sign an affidavit stating what she told you.”
“Sorry can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone and up until now I haven’t. I told you because you needed that information but I will not tell anyone else.”
“Do you understand that your life may well depend on the fact that Preston Garrett molested his niece? I can’t get you acquitted if you won’t trust me by giving me all the information I need to defend you.” Lane’s fair skin colored with the emotion as she resisted the urge to shake the woman into understanding. How can someone so smart not see the importance of this? “Can’t you trust me?”
With new eyes, Bryce looked at Lane and saw the frustration the woman felt. Can I trust her? She shook her head. I can’t take that chance. “I won't break my promise to Lydia?”
“Why? She’s doing her best to see that you go to prison – does that sound like she feels any kind of loyalty towards you?” Lane’s voice filled with annoyance and anger. “I can’t save you if you won’t save yourself!”
Just then, there was a soft knock on the door before it opened. Margarita Clayton stood in the doorway stricken with tears in her eyes.
Bryce walked rapidly towards her mother. “What’s the matter?”
With a shaking hand, she held up a piece of paper. “This.”
Lane knew instantly what it was and said, “Shit!” Moving towards the older woman she grabbed the paper. “I can’t believe this. Did they just serve you?”
Margarita nodded. “Yes, some man came up to me and asked if I was Margarita Clayton and when I said yes he handed me an envelope and said you’ve been served.”
“What’s going on,” Bryce demanded.
“They are going to call your mother as a witness for the state.”
“They can’t do that!”
“Oh yes they can and they did.” Lane took Margarita’s hand and said, “Come over here and sit with me I need to know everything that was said between you and Bryce when she came home.”
+ + +
As Lane sat in the courtroom waiting for the judge to reappear, she wondered why the DA wanted Margarita to testify. From what she told me, the conversation between her and Bryce was innocuous at best. Lydia was with Margarita that morning. Hmm, I wonder… The bailiff ordered all rise and the judge entered the courtroom. After sitting back down, Lane leaned over and whispered to Randall, “Go and find Margarita Clayton and find out everything about the conversation she had with Lydia that morning.” She needed to know if the women’s conversation was the impetus behind Margarita’s summons.
She should have already found that out, Randall thought as he begrudgingly got up. That bitch has no business trying this case. She can’t even get her facts straight. Maybe, just maybe, I will keep some of the information to myself. Ha, see what happens then. What do I care if another Clayton bites the dust? Good riddance to the lot of them, he thought as he pushed through the swinging door.
As the judge called the jury into the courtroom, Lane looked over at Bryce’s decidedly angry face. Gently, she touched the hand resting on the chair’s arm. “I won’t let them harass your mother.” When the grey blue eyes filled with rage turned in her direction, she added, “I promise.”
In a tight, hushed tone, Bryce spat out between gritted teeth, “They can come after me but not my mother.”
Lane didn’t move her hand but increased its pressure. “I know you’re upset and you have every right to be, but you can’t let the jury see that - it will be detrimental.”
“How would you know how I feel? It’s my mother not yours!”
She had to diffuse the anger her client felt. She leaned in closer and whispered the first thing that came to her mind, “Have dinner with me tonight.”
At first, Bryce didn’t know if she heard correctly so she pulled back and looked quizzically at her lawyer. “What?” Her anger began dissipating as she tried to focus on what the lawyer had said.
At that moment, the judge called Lydia back to the witness stand. Before Lane rose to begin her examination of the witness she quickly smiled and said, “You heard me,” then winked. She stood up, straightened her jacket and gazed directly at Lydia. “Are you alright now?
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, before we adjourned I asked if your uncle molested you. Would you please answer the question now?”
A lone tear coursed its way down the young woman’s face. “No,” she said sniffling.
“Ms Peterson, shall I remind you of the penalties for perjury?”
“I’m not lying, he didn’t molest me!” Lydia emphatically stated.
“Did you have a sexual relationship with your uncle?”
“NO!”
“What would your answer be if I told you I had a witness that will swear that you told them your uncle was molesting you?”
“Your Honor she is badgering the witness.”
“Ms. Cuthbert.” Eyes peered over his glasses as the judge gave Lane a stern look.
“Sorry.”
“You don’t have to answer that question,” the judge said softly to the witness.
Lydia’s eyes lifted and her gaze shifted to Bryce before she spoke in a cold tone. “I’d say it was a lie a big lie so you can try to shift the blame from your client to me. She killed him not me!”
“Your Honor I move to strike.”
“The jury will disregard the outburst by the witness.” His attention turned to Lydia. “Ms Peterson, you were instructed not to answer the question. Please refrain from further statements unless you are directed to answer.”
“Ok,” Lydia said in a small voice.
Lane blew out an exasperated breath. “Is there a way onto the Clayton Ranch by horse that is easily accessible?”
Lydia gazed curiously at the lawyer. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“If you’re riding a horse and don’t want to use the front entrance to the ranch could you get onto the property?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how?”
“Yes.”
Lane shifted her gaze to the jury and raised her eyebrows. “I have no further questions for this witness at this time.” She sat back down and wrote shit in bold letters on her yellow legal pad. Bryce’s hand reached over and wrote, dinner will be great but I won’t testify against Lydia. Lane just shook her head and gave her client a half smile as she heard the bailiff call Margarita Clayton to the stand.
The DA’s first question was, “What is your relationship to the accused?”
“I am her mother,” Margarita answered coldly.
“Do you recall what time your daughter came home on the morning of July fifteenth?”
“No.”
“Mrs. Clayton what time did you tell the sheriff your daughter came home on the morning of July fifteenth?”
“I don’t remember.”
“I would like you to look at exhibit marked A-10, which are the notes that Sheriff Wilkins took regarding his conversation with you on the morning of July fifteenth.” He handed them to Marina. “Maybe this will refresh your memory.”
Lane leaned in and whispered to Bryce, “Depending on how she answers this he may declare her a hostile witness.”
“I don’t recall saying any of this,” Margarita said strongly.
“Your Honor, I would like to have this witness declared adverse.”
“Not so fast Mr. Kunkle, I would like to hear a few more questions,” the judge stated.
Clearly annoyed, Danny Kunkle asked, “Did you see your daughter on the morning of July fifteenth?”
“I see my daughter every morning.” She held up the sheriff’s notes. “I recall speaking with the sheriff but never gave a formal statement.”
“Your Honor,” the DA implored.
“Not yet Mr. Kunkle, I haven’t heard this witness say anything that I would declare as hostile.”
“Mrs. Clayton, will you please tell us what you did say to the sheriff about that morning.”
“I really can’t remember.”
“Perhaps if you look at the notes they will refresh your memory.”
“I have looked at them and can’t recall saying anything like what it there.”
“Will you just read all the notes again? Surely you remember saying something to the sheriff about your daughter.”
Bryce leaned into Lane’s ear, cupped her face with her hand and asked, “Is she going to get in trouble for not answering?”
Lane stood up. “Objection your Honor, the district attorney is harassing the witness. She has said on five separate occasions she does not remember.”
“Sidebar, your Honor.”
Judge Aniline waved the two lawyers forward and covered the microphone. Lane was the first to speak. “Unless the State has a signed statement we have no way of knowing when the sheriff entered those notes or if they are accurate.”
“Your Honor, why would the sheriff write notes that aren’t accurate? These notes are part of his investigation.”
The judge scowled. “Stop wasting my time and move on Mr. Kunkle,” the judge directed as his hand shooed them back to their respective sides.
“I would like this witness to be declared as an adverse witness.”
“Granted.”
Lane slumped slightly in her chair. By being declared adverse, the DA could now ask leading questions and the jury would hear Margarita’s supposed statement whether she said it or not.
“Mrs. Clayton, you told the sheriff that your daughter arrived home around six in the morning. What did she look like at that time?”
“Like she always does.”
“You told the sheriff that she had on jeans a black t shirt under a white shirt is that correct?”
“I don’t recall.”
The questioning of Margarita Clayton went on for the rest of the day with the DA asking leading questions and the witness replying with, I don’t recall. Finally, it was Lane’s turn to cross-examine. “Good afternoon Mrs. Clayton. The hour is late so I will keep it brief.” Lane said smiling.
Margarita nodded and blew out a breath. Lane was sure she had been holding it for the district attorney’s entire line of questioning.
“I only have a few questions for you.”
Margarita smiled. She was relieved that finally she was looking at a friendly face. “Thank you,” she said.
“At any time did the sheriff or the district attorney call you into their offices and ask you questions regarding your daughter’s whereabouts or statements she may have made on the morning of July fifteenth?”
“No,” Margarita said wearily.
“Do you think the sheriff’s notes are an accurate description of what went on between Bryce and yourself on that morning?”
“I don’t recall saying those words.”
“Thank you. That is all I have for this witness.” Lane sat down and saw the district attorney jump up.
“I have a few more questions.”
Margarita shook her head, looked lovingly at her daughter then closed her eyes.
“Mrs. Clayton, are you telling the court that the notes the sheriff made are bogus?”
Black eyes stared menacingly at the man. “I have told you over and over again I do not remember saying those words. I don’t know if the sheriff made them up, you will have to ask him. I don’t recall what was said!”
Margarita’s message for Danny Kunkle was clear – don’t ask me any more questions. It was at that point he had to make a decision. If he continued to question her in the same aggressive manner, the jury could become sympathetic towards her thereby casting him in a poor light or, he could sit down - he sat down. “I have nothing further. Your Honor the state rests.”
“Are you ready with the defense Ms. Cuthbert?”
“Yes your Honor.”
“In light of the late hour, we will resume in the morning,” Judge Aniline said as he rapped his gavel. “Court is adjourned until nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”
+ + +
“Just what did you think you were doing by inviting her to dinner?” Lane said to the image in the mirror. “She is your client for god’s sake. It’s bad enough that you think she’s hot but to meet with her in private is strictly out of bounds.” She shook her head. “Did that matter to you? Oh, no you just went headlong into the forbidden.”
The day in court hadn’t gone as she expected. Lydia’s steadfast insistence that her uncle hadn’t molested her made her upcoming campaign to discredit Preston Garrett that much harder. Bryce’s mother meant well, but she came off sounding as if she knew something damaging about her daughter and was covering it up. Then, there was the kicker of it all – she invited Bryce to have supper with her.
“What a dumb head,” she said to the romaine lettuce she was chopping. “At least she agreed to have dinner here rather than out in public. “Shit, what have I done?” Picking up the lettuce and placing it in the bowl, she started singing softly. Anticipation, anticipaaaaation is making me wait… “Damn it, now I’m singing. This has to stop! I’m ruining my whole image.”
The doorbell rang and Lane kicked herself the entire time she walked to the door as a bubble of expectation for what the night might bring rippled near the surface. Stupid, stupid, stupid. When she opened the door, she felt as though all the oxygen had left the room. Bryce Clayton stood there looking spectacular. Did I say hot? I meant en fuego. Her hair, no longer pulled back, cascaded down her shoulders in dark waves that barely kissed each breast. Her grey blue eyes danced with amusement and her luscious looking lips beckoned to be kissed. Bryce’s sleeveless tight cut white shirt showed off every curve to perfection. Since first meeting the woman, Lane had been fully aware of how good Bryce looked when her well-muscled body moved. Now, she is standing in my doorway and no one else is around…I’m in big trouble, she thought as she squirmed slightly when she felt her body react. Anticipaaaaation. “Hi,” she finally managed “come on in.”
“Thanks. I’ve never been in this neighborhood.” Nervously, Bryce fidgeted with the bottle in her hand. “Oh, here I brought this for you.” She shoved the bottle in Lane’s direction as her eyes sought a distant wall. “It’s a Texas wine.”
“I’ve heard about Texas wineries but I’ve never tasted any?”
Bryce focused on the smaller woman, tilted her head and frowned. “That’s right you’re not from around here. There are quite a few actually.” Hell, what do I say next? “If you don’t like it I can bring one from a different winery…hmm, the next time.”
She said next time! Is there going to be a next time?Anticipaaaaation… “I’m sure if you like it must be good.” Lane felt her face do a lame smile and her eyes fluttered slightly. SHIT I’m flirting like a schoolgirl. Anticipaaaaation… Get out of my head stupid song! Color tinged her cheeks.
Bryce rocked back and forth nervously looking at the door as she debated whether to stay or run. I’ll bring some next time. What a stupid thing to say. Eyes searched the woman’s and when she saw no threat she decided to stay. She inhaled deeply, “Hmm, something smells good.”
The comment on the smell of the simmering food made Lane’s face break out into an all out smile. “It’s one of my specialties.”
“Specialties? Are you a serious cook like my mother?”
“Not really.” Lane’s face blushed again. “I only have two chicken and seafood.” She shrugged.
“Well you’re way ahead of me.” Bryce’s boisterous laugh was strangely out of place.
Lane, out of awkwardness more than anything else, chuckled slightly as she walked towards the sun porch. “I thought we could sit out here.” She led the way to a small, but comfortable sun porch off the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind it is the only room that I’ve finished that I feel relaxed in.”
Bryce looked around the room and smiled. “I can see why you like this room,” she said trying to sound casual. She wandered over to the window and peered out taking in the beautifully landscaped yard. “You like yard work?”
Lane laughed self-consciously. “I can’t take the credit for that, the former owners were gardeners.” She watched her guest standing at the window. She is so unlike the woman I’ve seen in the courtroom. “Please make yourself at home. I’ll only be a minute. I need to stir something in the kitchen.”
Bryce looked at her and smiled. “Take your time.” Bryce turned back to the window and watched two squirrels chase each other. Thoughts spun in her mind all revolving around the woman in the other room. She had been watching her from day one and now that she was alone with her in a non-courtroom setting, she felt terrified.
A few minutes later, Lane came back and saw Bryce still standing at the window. “Something interesting out there?”
Bryce turned startled by the question. Damn she looks good enough to…. “Not really. Do you mind living here by yourself?”
“No…I like it for the most part. Of course there are times when I get lonely, but not that often.”
“What do you do with your free time?”
Lane chuckled. “Free time…what is that?” After both women laughed, Lane continued. “I like to draw.” She pointed to several pen and ink framed drawings on the wall.”
Bryce walked to the wall, looked closely at one of the pictures and raised an eyebrow. “This is good, really good.” She shrugged, “makes my doodling kinda lame.” She pointed to one of the pictures. “I like this one.”
“It’s my grandparent’s home out in Galveston,” she said wistfully. “Do you live with your parents because you don’t like living alone Bryce?”
“Actually I prefer the solitary life but…” she sighed, “it hasn’t worked out that way.”
“Why?”
For a moment Bryce looked at the woman as if she had two heads. I don’t share personal stuff she thought then for some inexplicable reasons said, “After I graduated from UT, I came back here to live at my ranch. A day after I arrived home, my mother’s father died and off we all went to Brazil. Two weeks later, we flew back with my grandmother in tow.” Why am I telling her all this? Inwardly, Bryce shook her head then forged ahead. “My mother’s grief over her father’s death and the added responsibility of caring for her mother was palpable although she never complained - I stayed to help. Five years later grandma passed away.” Her voice and face softened. “My mother was a basket case for a very long time…I think in a way she still is.” Her hand went to her face and she rubbed at her eyes. “Its fifteen years later and I’m still living out there.”
Lane instinctively reached out and gently caressed Bryce’s shoulder. The woman had just spoken more words than she had since they first met. “It sounds to me like you are a wonderful caring daughter,” she said softly. “Do you have any plans on ever moving to your ranch?”
“I was in the process of doing that when this mess happened.” She laughed apprehensively. “Guess the gods are trying to tell me not to move.”
“Perhaps.” With her hand still on the woman’s shoulder, she squeezed gently. “Come on, supper is ready.”
The supper conversation was light. “Why do you drive that old truck and not a new…Hummer or something like that?”
Bryce placed her fork on her plate, finished chewing and looked directly at the woman across from her. I can’t ever recall speaking with anyone like this. “I don’t like the trappings or pretenses that being rich, has. It seems to me people get the notion in their heads that if they make a lot of money they need to make sure everyone knows about it. They buy big expensive houses with twenty rooms or luxury cars and show them off so everyone can be impressed. In reality, a nice four bedroom house and a Chevy would meet their needs but, for some reason, if you make a lot of money people feel they need to live up to that image. I just don’t get it.”
“So, the unpretentious life is for you.”
“Yes.” Bryce picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of chicken then put the fork back down. “From all that I’ve read you were on the fast track in Houston…why did you come here? It seems to me to be a step down.”
Lane picked up her glass and took a sip of wine as she eyed the woman across from her. “This wine is excellent,” she said taking another sip. “I have always wanted to live here and be Monty’s partner.”
“Yeah, right.” Bryce let out a sarcastic laugh.
“No, it’s true.”
The serious look on Lane’s face made Bryce realize that the statement indeed was true. She wanted to come here? No way. There has to be more to it than just that. “I must be dense ‘cause I can’t imagine that anyone would voluntarily want to come here.”
How much do I tell her? “I spent every day as an assistant district attorney dealing with the most heinous of people and crimes. After a while, it all got to me and I realized I needed to find something else and Monty looking for a new partner was an answer to my prayers.”
Bryce listened to the words, digested them and concluded that there was much more to the story. “But you said you always wanted to be Monty’s partner.”
“Yeah I did. Years ago, I read a fascinating article about him being the ranchers’ lawyer and that’s what I wanted to be and it stuck.” She raised her arms shoulder high, lifted one shoulder and said, “And, here I am.”
“But, from all accounts you would have been the next DA. Wouldn’t that mean your duties would have been more management orientated?”
Now what do I say? “That’s not for me.” She picked up her fork and focused all her attention on the plate of food. “How do you like the meal?”
“It’s very good.” Bryce put a forkful into her mouth. She got the message - the conversation was over.
Both let out a simultaneous sigh as they finished their meal. “That was delicious. Thank you for inviting me.” Bryce hesitated a moment. “Will you tell me something?”
“Don’t tell me you want the recipe!” Lane said laughingly.
Bryce shook her head. “No,” she said softly. “Why haven’t you ever asked me if I murdered Preston Garrett?”
Lane, surprised by the question let her eyes dart around the room until they finally rested on the grey blue eyes. “My very first case involved a man accused of embezzling three hundred thousand dollars from the company he worked for. In my initial interview, I asked him if he was guilty and he assured me he was not. To make a long story short, the verdict came down as not guilty. As we were leaving the courtroom he whispered to me that he was guilty.” She absently added. “Ever since I don’t ask.”
“Don’t you want to know?”
“No, I never want to know. By assuming clients are innocent, I can defend them vigorously and fully. I don’t think I would do as good a job if I knew they were guilty.” She smiled. “It’s a win, win situation in my mind.”
Bryce pressed her hands together and put them to her mouth as if she were ready to say a prayer. Her eyes held the hazel ones in check. “If I was going to kill someone it would have been a lot more creative.”
“In what way?”
“There are so many subtle ways to murder a person without leaving traces behind. Had I really wanted Preston dead, there would be no way it would be linked back to me.”
Lane listened carefully. “So who hates you so much that they went to all this trouble to frame you?”
She shook her head then mumbled, “Maybe the police should be looking closer to home or better yet just let it be.”
Lane scrunched up her eyebrows while trying to decipher Bryce’s cryptic comment. We’ve already been down the Lydia path, she thought before looking closer at the woman. In Bryce’s voice, Lane detected a hint of a little girl’s voice asking, why is this happening to me. “You know this can be ended right now if you will trust me enough to tell me where you were that night.”
Bryce’s back stiffened as she lowered her eyes. “I can’t do that.”
Exasperated, Lane knew there was no point in perusing the subject. She’s not going to tell me. “Is there a special someone in your life?”
“No.” Bryce scrapped her chair over the tile floor. “I need to get going.”
“But we haven’t had dessert yet.”
“I really need to go.”
To Lane, Bryce seemed like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Please, don’t go.”
Bryce was already at the door when she heard Lane ask her to stay - she wanted nothing more. Why did I have to bring up the trial? “Maybe another time.” She placed her hand on the knob and turned.
Lane watched the door close with her mouth agape. “What just happened?” she reached for the knob and quickly opened the door. “Bryce, please come back,” she called out. But, she found her eyes straining through the dark to get a look at the old truck’s taillights that grew small and distant.
Closing the door behind her, she walked rapidly towards her desk and the yellow legal pad. Picking up a pencil she wrote…had dinner with Bryce… Hey, she thought it's billable hours.
+ + +
The only light illuminating the moonless, pitch-dark night were those of Bryce’s old Ford pickup. She was on the run again, just as she always did when she felt her emotions trying to take control. Lane had been so easy to talk to that she forgot her fears and momentarily let down her guard. She liked the woman, more than liked her and that scared her. She also knew that when people allow their emotions to rule they become careless – she couldn’t allow that to happen.
“You really handled that with your usual aplomb. What a dope head I am.” Bryce rattled off every name in the book as she relived the evening’s conversations. She didn’t know what Lane’s sexual proclivities were but she was certain that the woman was flirting with her. The entire time they were together Bryce could feel the sexual energy flowing between them. As far as she could tell from her investigations, there was not, nor had there ever been a man in the lawyer’s life. Is that why I bolted with the mention of a significant other in my life? Maybe she would have invited me into her bed if I stuck around. Bryce was aware of being aroused and knew that she had been suppressing her desires that had been smoldering from the moment the lawyer had opened the door. Hell maybe from the moment she whispered in my ear or maybe when… Shit!
Trying to get her mind off the increasing need between her legs, Bryce concentrated on the red flags of the evening. One of Lane’s comments had her wondering why, or if, she had been lied to. In all the research she had done about the lawyer, there was no mentioned her being a defense lawyer yet she said she had defended an embezzler. Maybe it was in law school. But, if it wasn’t then why did she make that story up? Another question that was playing in her subconscious was the weak excuse Lane used for why she had left the DA’s office in Houston. She had gone over the footage of the lawyer speaking with the press after she had won a big case involving a drug smuggler and the woman Bryce saw in the video was at ease in front of the camera and seemed to glow with the victory. So why did she really leave Houston and come here?
Questions and more questions filled her mind as she turned into the drive and the hard rubber of the tires came to a stop at the gooseneck pole. She slid her left thumb into the reader and the gates slowly slid open. Lane Cuthbert was still on her mind as she unlocked the door and went inside her parent’s home. No one was awake and she was glad for that…or was she? The need to have her mother embrace her and whisper that it would all be work out by morning was overwhelming. She felt emotionally overloaded and her mind cried out for human contact. Turning on her heel, she quietly opened the door, went back outside and got into her truck. She wouldn’t deny the need that begged for release any longer. Self-gratification would not do, she needed comfort and that was what she would find.
+ + +
Lane sat with a drawing pad on her lap and a pencil in her hand. She was astounded at what she had just drawn. She looked at the drawing of a smiling Bryce Clayton and shook her head. The evening had been interesting to say the least. On one hand, there was something about Bryce made Lane want to take her in her arms and comfort her much as a mother would a frightened child. On the other, there was a definite sexual undertone in the way Bryce looked at her and that had her senses wanting more. Clearly, the woman fascinated her and she wanted more. Once the trial is over she thought as she put the drawing and pencil down and picked up her notes for the trial.
The morning would bring a new day along with the opportunity to present her begin her case. She had participated in enough trials to know that as long as Bryce’s whip loomed over the proceedings her defense was on shaky ground. She would have to find a way to pull out all the stops if she wanted an acquittal. Why can’t she be honest with me and tell me where she was? Resting both of her hands on top of her head, she stared off into the distance and tried to visualize a sequential order to all that she knew.
“If I go on the assumption that Bryce is innocent then I need to figure out who wanted to kill Garrett and make it look like she did it.” She frowned. “Something is not quite right with that scenario.” She cupped her chin with her fingers. “But what that is I’m not exactly sure. “Then there is Lydia. Something is off about her…the person on the stand was nothing like the Lydia that wanted in my bed or the pissed off woman that I rejected. I guess that could just be because she had to testify.” She bit her lip. “Yeah right, I don’t believe for a minute. She certainly was convincing as the distraught niece but I’m sure that was an act for the jury. Why is she protecting her uncle? She has nothing to gain by doing that.” Her hands moved to the notes as her eyes slowly scanned the observations she made during each witnesses initial questioning. Her eyes drifted to the notation about Marcia Garrett’soutburst. Was that an admission? Did she want their dirty little secret to stay hidden? Why? “Guess I should add her to the mix.”
The ringing of the phone brought her out of her musings. “Hello.”
“You keep defending that bitch and you’ll pay with your life,” the voice said.
“Who is this?” she demanded.
“Your life depends on walking away from the trial now.”
In her job as an assistant district attorney, she had her share of threats. “If your point in calling is to scare me it isn’t working.”
The voice turned icy. “If you continue you will die.”
“Bite me,” she said as she hung up the phone. Her mind went quickly over the day’s testimonies as she tried to decipher which testimony was responsible for the call. Lydia’s, she thought as the phone rang again. “Hello.”
“I may just kill you anyway for being so rude.”
She slammed the phone down on the receiver. Lane pressed the caller ID and wrote the number down. She didn’t recognize the area code as one from the area but dialed the number anyway – it was a calling card. Lane scratched her head then rubbed a hand across her face. What to do…what should I do? She doubted seriously that the sheriff would be of any help. Anyway, there’s little he can do without a callback number or…
She removed the receiver and walked quickly to the closet in her office and started pulling out boxes and rummaging through them until she found what she was looking for. In one of her cases in Houston, she had received a series of threatening phone calls and the police gave her a device that would record calls. With practiced patience, she plugged in the device, set it so it would start when she picked up the phone and then waited. She returned the receiver to its cradle and waited. It didn’t take long. Brrring brrring brrring.
Snatching up the handset, she waited a half second until she saw the green light go on. “Hello,” she said holding her breath.
“Why did you hang up on me Lane? That isn’t the way things are done around these parts.” The deadly seriousness of the voice sent a shiver down Lane’s spine.
“What do you want?” she said calmly. She needed the person to threaten her again.
“I told you before didn’t you listen?”
“I won’t stop defending my client.” She took a deep breath “I will make sure she gets acquitted.”
“Then you will die for your foolish actions.”
“You don’t scare me,” she said with a bravado that she really didn’t feel.
“You should be,” the caller said before hanging up.
For a long while, Lane sat with the phone in her hand. Finally, she replaced the handset before going to the kitchen. I need a stiff drink. She poured herself two fingers of scotch and went back to the recording device. Repeatedly she listened to the muffled voice trying to recall where, or if she had heard it before. She was almost certain it was a man, but with all the technology out there today there was no way she could be one hundred percent certain. “With the recording I can contact the sheriff’s office and make a report. I’d better inform Judge Aniline of the threat too.” She stretched and yawned. “I’ll do that tomorrow, bed is calling me now.” She undressed then slid under the covers and closed her eyes. As sleep began to overtake her, scattered thoughts whirled until one, struggling to the forefront, won - Bryce, she thought before falling into a deep sleep.
You can read this story and all EO stories knowing that it is completed and all parts will be posted in a timely fashion. :o)
Constructive commments are always welcomed. Thank you. eorielly@yahoo.com