Capital Offense Page 4

He looked away.

  “But you can with her?”

  He nodded.

  She wiped at the tears on her cheeks, then left the car.

  The Jefferson City Democrat

  September 29,1990

  Government Protester Found Dead

  JEFFERSON CITY – Patrick Dunfey, known for his vocal disapproval of the current state administration and what he termed as “the immoral behavior of Governor Lane,” was found dead of a gunshot wound to the head, at 11:06 P.M., an apparent suicide.

  This comes on the heels of the drug-overdose death of his fiancée, whose body was discovered one week ago. The investigation into the cause of her death has not been concluded, but she was not a known drug user. The families are stunned by these tragic deaths.

  EIGHT

  October, 1990 – Jefferson City, Missouri

  Sunshine streamed through the windows, belying the crispness of the October morning. Carolyn stood in her office at the Cole County Courthouse, gazing out at the frost-glazed trees that lined the sheets of downtown Jefferson City. A burst of cold air had pushed south from Canada early in the year.

  She couldn’t believe how the last eleven months had sped by. The election was less than four weeks away. With a flick of her fingertips, she twirled her black leather desk chair, then she sat down and rested her elbows on the immense cherry wood desk. She massaged her forehead. A dull ache collected behind her brow.

  “Good morning,” Edmund Lane said as he entered her office and closed the door behind him.

  Carolyn jumped at the sound of his voice. “You surprised me.”

  He cocked an eyebrow and studied her. “There’s no time for daydreaming, girl. Warner’s falling in the polls, and I want to know what you’re going to do about it.”

  “Your son-” she began.

  “I don’t want to hear about my son.” He walked around her desk, taking her chin in his hand. “I want to talk about Warner and you. What are you going to do?”

  She peered up at him warily, struggling to conceal her loathing of the man. “What would you like me to do?”

  “I think you know. Or have you forgotten everything I’ve taught you? Drastic times call for drastic measures.” He dropped his hand from her chin, but his cold blue eyes bore into her. “I expect Warner to win. It’s your job to make sure of that. From what I’ve seen lately, you aren’t holding up your end of our agreement.”

  Carolyn had known Edmund longer than she’d known Warner – in ways she’d rather not recall. After twelve years of marriage to his son, she knew there were few boundaries to Edmund’s ruthlessness. But arguing with him was pointless. He was too powerful and had been in Missouri politics too long. He could ostracize her from the state and political life forever.

  She reminded herself that she might have lost her husband’s love, but she couldn’t afford to lose anything else. Especially not as a result of Edmund’s cruel machinations. She took a deep breath and waited for him to continue.

  “Meet me tomorrow for lunch at the Hilton. Noon. Don’t be late.” Edmund’s voice lowered to a hiss. “Let me down on this, and I may forget our deal.”

  “You wouldn’t hurt your son like that,” she said. The pain in her head intensified.

  “Try me.” He turned his back on her and left the office.

  She knew better than to ignore Edmund. How much worse could this situation get?

  She’d always believed that the two Lane men were different. Cold and calculating, Edmund’s self-interest and lust for power guided him. Warner, however, had been loving and kind. At least, until he’d learned of her abortion. Maybe that’s what she wanted to believe, she thought.

  Now he wielded hate like the practiced sword of a samurai. And Warner’s affair certainly wasn’t showing any signs of abating.

  She found herself caught between two men who both tolerated her with unconcealed disdain. She felt like Humpty Dumpty, the shell of her personal life shattered at her feet. All of it within her reach, yet she seemed unable to puzzle the pieces back together again.

  The familiar pang of loneliness and isolation overwhelmed her. She wiped at her tears as they overflowed, and with a practiced shove, buried the hurt. Self-pity was not her style. Somehow she’d figure this out. Somehow she’d fix it.

  Well, Edmund was right on one account, Carolyn conceded. Warner was falling in the polls. His opponent, Jackson Green, was hammering him on the new airport project, cuts in education, and raising taxes. She needed to do something to retrieve Warner’s career. Regardless of the state of their personal life, she believed Warner to be capable of a great political future. A future she desperately wanted to be a part of. In reality, she knew that politics was all she really had left. That harsh fact chilled her heart.

  She enjoyed being a prosecutor, but it was the natural precursor to a life in politics – to effecting change at a higher level and in a more sweeping and long-lasting manner. Her entire life was dedicated to getting beyond prosecuting one case at a time and arriving at a place where she’d be making the laws, instituting real change, real justice. This was the one dream she and Warner shared.

  A knock on her door disturbed her thoughts. “Enter at your own risk.” Carolyn called out. She forced a smile when newly hired assistant district attorney, Randy McCabe, walked in.

  Fresh out of law school, McCabe’s enthusiasm glowed through the freckles that covered his face.

  “Mark has a domestic case for you.” He brushed his reddish bangs back from his forehead.

  She didn’t invite him to sit down. “Tell me about it.”

  “We’ve got a minor who watched his parents sell and abuse drugs for years and then turned them in. Mark thought you might want to take it on.”

  “The child called the police himself?”

  “Better than that.” Randy said. “He helped the police set up a sting. It was a pretty big bust. Mark thinks there must have been some physical abuse going on.”

  “There usually is.” Carolyn remarked softly. Her stomach tightened in anticipation of the roller coaster ride through hell these cases induced in her. Not only did they trigger her back to her own childhood, but they kicked into overdrive her nurturing and protective instincts. If she’d been able to, she would have adopted each child from every case she’d ever prosecuted.

  Randy shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but remained standing in front of Carolyn’s desk.

  “How old is he?”

  “Fifteen.”

  Carolyn nodded. “Where’s Mark now?”

  “In his office.”

  “Tell him I’ll be down this afternoon to discuss the case. Say three-thirty. If there’s a problem with the time, call me.”

  “If you take this case, can I help? I’d really appreciate an opportunity to work with you.”

  She turned her attention back to the papers on her desk. “Have you handled any case work like this before?”

  “No.”

  “Have you litigated anything before?”

  “No.”

  Carolyn looked up. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but this is a kid’s life we’re talking about. Everything this child has in the world just got tossed into the air like a handful of dust. So don’t take this personally when I say that no one should learn on a case like this, no one. Get some experience and then we’ll talk.”

  “Mark told me you’d say that.”

  Carolyn raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

  “Yeah. But I had to try anyway.” He smiled.

  “Well, you get an A for effort.”

  McCabe walked to the door, then paused briefly. “May I ask you a personal question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Does being a senator’s wife ever factor into your decision to take these types of cases?”

  “Ouch. You’re a bit young for such cynicism.”

  He shrugged. “It’s the world we live in.”

  She eyed him thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s true. Well, believe it or n
ot, this is a battle I began to wage long before I met my husband.” This admission made her feel ancient.

  “Really?”

  “Really.” Carolyn said and waved him out the door. She softened her dismissal with a faint smile.

  ***

  Carolyn made her way down the corridor to Mark Dailey’s office. Mark was a unique man – intriguing, really, she thought. He was a senior assistant district attorney, like her, and he projected a strong moral image. He’d been with the county prosecutor’s office for eleven years and was an excellent litigator.

  Mark had tight relationships with all of the “big boys.” having grown up in Missouri as the beneficiary of old family money. Edmund had taught her to evaluate all relationships based on how he or she could help or hinder. In Mark’s case she figured it was help. Carolyn cringed at the self-serving nature of her thoughts. Edmund had taught her so many things, long before she ever met Warner. His brutal influence still remained. His agenda disgusted her, but his street smarts had carried her far. She silently cursed the man, then relegated him to the mental closet where she kept the rest of her demons.

  She needed Mark’s help now. He just didn’t know it yet.

  Carolyn walked into Mark’s office without knocking. The room was furnished with built-in bookcases, two leather chairs, and an imposing oak desk that dominated the room. “How’s Saint Mark today?” she teased.

  “Fine, and knock it off.” The kindness in his hazel eyes belied the serious note in his voice.

  “Why? It suits you. And why not enjoy the status of your celestial reputation?”

  Mark laughed. “I – Oh, forget it. I know better than to get into parries and jabs with you. Let’s discuss this case.”

  “Chicken.” She sank into one of the leather chairs facing him, kicked off her shoes, and crossed her legs. “All right, let’s discuss the case.”

  “Have you considered the time element? It could tie you up from the outset. I know you’ve been concerned about Warner’s campaign.” He leaned back in his chair: his soft smile focused on her.

  She nodded. “Your point is sound, and yes, I’ve considered it.”

  His gaze held hers. She wondered if the great Mark Dailey had a crush on her. It was flattering. His attention felt like a delicious ray of sun on a cold winter day.

  “What about the emotional toll?” he asked. “I know what these cases do to you.”

  Carolyn hesitated touched by his sensitivity, then her automatic defenses took over. “I have a job to do. And I know you wouldn’t have brought this case to my attention if you didn’t think I could handle it.” She uncrossed her legs, and slid her feet back into her shoes.

  “You don’t need to be tough with me. I know your record. I’m worried about the personal impact on you.”

  “You’re wrong. I do have to be tough, in this office and everywhere else, for that matter. I can’t let down, because if I do the bad guys will win. The only way to stay undefeated is to push everything but the facts, aside.”

  “If you had all of this figured out, why the visit?”

  “I couldn’t resist the opportunity to bask in your saintly glow.” Carolyn laughed. “Actually, I have a favor to ask.”

  “Sure.”

  “Is your wife going to the reception tonight?”

  “Yes, she is. Would you like to sit with us?”

  “Well, no.” Carolyn hedged. “Unexpectedly, Warner’s out of town, and I hoped you’d escort me. If your wife wasn’t coining, of course. But since she is, I’ll work it out. It was just a thought.”

  “Well… let me give her a call. She’d probably be delighted to have a night off.”

  “No, no. I wouldn’t think of it. I’ll see you tonight.”

  Mark picked up his phone. “Hold on. Let me ask her.”

  Carolyn sat quietly while he phoned. The reception was important. Warner was in the southern region of the state surveying flooded farmland, and Carolyn was standing in for him at party given by an elite businessmen’s organization called the Pinstripe Club. She didn’t have to give a speech, but with the campaign in full gear, she needed to make an appearance.

  All the major business and political players would be in attendance. These were people with whom she needed to solidify relationships. The members were more powerful than most officials already in office. Like Warner’s father, they were “king makers.” They made the decisions as to who won the political offices and at what price. She and Warner needed their support – and their deep pockets – in order to break through to the national scene.

  Mark was the key. He’d grown up with them, and, although Warner was a senator and the Lane family was prominent, Carolyn needed Mark’s help in establishing herself as a potential political force. Even though in legal circles she’d earned a reputation as a tough prosecutor, she knew that in this arena she was perceived only as the senator’s wife.

  She’d debated whether or not to impose on Mark for his contacts, but realized that an opportunity like this, a party of this magnitude and Warner out of town, would not present itself again. Too, she had to admit, she’d enjoy a night out with Mark, even if it was strictly business.

  Mark hung up the phone. “One of the kids has an ear infection, and Sandy would love to get out of going tonight. So, I’m available.”

  “Are you sure you’re not just telling me this so I won’t feel guilty about taking you away from your wife?”

  “No, honestly, she’d rather stay home with the kids. You know me, Carolyn. Would Saint Mark lie?”

  “No.” Carolyn laughed low in her throat, “Saint Mark would never lie.”

  “Great. I’ll pick you up at six.”

  She pushed up from the chair, and left his office. They’d become close over the years, and he was one of the few people she trusted, although within limits. Dangerous, Carolyn warned herself, stopping her thoughts. Mark was married, off limits. But she couldn’t help envying his wife just a bit.

  Once she returned to her office, Carolyn called in her assistant, Katherine Seals. Carolyn had met Katherine at party headquarters. The daughter of a party leader, Katherine had quickly become invaluable and was a good friend as well.

  Katherine entered her office. At twenty-seven, Katherine moved with the silent grace of a feline. Even seated in the chair in front of Carolyn’s desk, her athletic frame looked ready to pounce. Auburn curls danced around her face as she spoke. “What’s up?”

  “We’ve got a hot case,” Carolyn announced with an easy smile.

  Katherine’s green eyes lit up. “I’m ready.”

  “I’ll brief you tomorrow. This afternoon I need you to go to the law library and pull everything you can find on children as informants, and everything on kids who’ve testified against their parents. Don’t limit it to Missouri, but weed through it. I only want information with teeth to it.” Her gaze caught on the wall clock above Katherine’s credenza. It was four o’clock.

  “You want sensational stuff, as well as precedent-setting information?” Katherine asked.

  “Exactly.” Carolyn picked up her briefcase and lifted her coat off the hook behind her door. “Have it by tomorrow, and we’ll review it together. I won’t be back today.”

  NINE

  The reception consisted of caviar and champagne, followed by a full-course meal featuring Maine lobsters flown in that day. Heads turned when Carolyn strolled into the main room with Mark. Her black cocktail dress, cut on the bias, accented shapely legs and her hair moved in soft waves about her shoulders. A waiter offered glasses of Veuve Clicquot, which they accepted.

  “Our seats are at the head table.” Mark said.

  Walking through the crowd with Mark felt natural, she thought, comfortable.

  Mark introduced her to several bankers. He’d begun his professional life in investment banking. The fact that he’d given up such a lucrative career for the pursuit of justice, Carolyn long ago concluded, was a testament to his moral fiber. Attentive and polite, he made her
feel valued and respected, things she hadn’t felt in a longtime.

  “I want you to meet someone special.” Mark said as they finally approached the head table and found their seats.

  “ Carolyn Alden Lane, may I introduce you to Mort Fields.”

  Her heart raced. Mort Fields was the most important political player and money man in Missouri. He could make Warner’s career. “I’ve heard Warner speak of you. I can’t believe we haven’t met before.” Carolyn said as she extended her hand.

  Living up to his reputation for charm, Mort kissed it. “And I’ve heard of you. Your record against the drug trade is making quite an impact.”

  Carolyn smiled at the compliment. “Thank you.”

  She couldn’t believe her good fortune as she sat down next to him. He was not taller than five-foot-six, with a slender build but his charisma was enormous. As the number-one power broker in Missouri, he was closely tied to the International Banking Fund, which possessed seemingly limitless monetary resources. It was alleged that he alone determined the distribution of the funds. Within fifteen minutes, she and Mort were trading jokes.

  After the meal began, their discussion became more serious. “Have you heard about my latest venture?” Mort asked.

  “The rumor is that you’re financing two computer geniuses, with some revolutionary technology, in a software company.” Carolyn said.

  “Essentially that’s true. Interested in investing?”

  “I didn’t know you were looking for investors.” Carolyn said as a waiter set her entrée in front of her. This was too good to be true.

  “I wasn’t. I certainly don’t need them.” Mort picked up the seafood fork and plucked a piece of meat from the claw of his lobster. “But I may make an exception for someone I like. And I like you.”

  Carolyn realized that he was flirting with her. “Well, thank you. I recognize an outstanding opportunity when I see one. And based on your business reputation, I’d be a fool to decline an offer to invest with you. But what would be expected in return?”