Beyond Suspicion

Sex wasn’t exactly a strong point of their relationship. In fact, it had been nonexistent when they were first married. What should have been the happiest time of their lives was marred by Cindy’s recurring nightmares. The medical doctors had ruled out sexual assault, but probably no one would ever know the details of what her attacker had done or threatened to do. Five years was a long time; five years was yesterday. At times Jack felt as though he could only guess how long ago it was in Cindy’s mind. The good news was that she’d finally pushed it far enough away to want to try to start a family. It had taken her all that time to convince herself that the world was not such an awful place that a child should never be brought into it.

Jack laid a hand lightly on her belly, wondering if this one would be the one.

The phone rang. It was down the hall in his home office, a separate phone line from the main number. Jack let it ring five times, and the machine got it. The caller hung up. A minute later the phone rang again. On the fifth ring it went to the machine. Another hang up.

Seconds later it was ringing yet again. It was as if someone had his number on redial and was determined to keep calling until a live person answered. If this kept up, Cindy would certainly wake. He knew she hadn’t been sleeping well the last few nights, so he sprang from the bed, wearing only his underwear, and hurried down the dark hall. He caught it on the fourth ring, just before the machine would take it.

“Hello.”

“It’s me. Jessie.”

He suddenly felt more naked than he was. “I’ve been trying to reach you. You didn’t return my calls.”

“That’s because I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Then why are you calling now?”

“Because you pissed me off.”

“I pissed you off?”

“It’s odd, don’t you think? I was in a lawsuit for months, and the viatical investors never once accused me of fraud. They thought the diagnosis was all just a mistake. Suddenly, the case is over, and they’ve become highly suspicious. They think they were scammed.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because they’re poking around, asking questions. And I think you have something to do with it.”

“I haven’t said a word to anyone.”

“Liar. You and your investigator were on Grove Isle questioning Dr. Marsh’s wife, weren’t you?”

Jack couldn’t deny it, so he steered clear. “Jessie, we should talk.”

“I warned you, don’t ask so many questions. You have ticked me off bad this time.”

He bit back his anger, but he couldn’t swallow all of it. “I’m tired of you acting as if I’m the one who did you wrong.”

“If you blow the lid off this, you are really going to regret it.”

“So you admit it was a scam. You did it.”

“We did it.”

He’d known since the elevator, but her admission still shocked him. “You’ve pushed it too far this time, Jessie.”

“Not just me. All of us. So watch yourself, or I’ll not only have you disbarred, I’ll have you sitting in the prison cell right next to Dr. Marsh.”

“What?”

“The simple truth is, I couldn’t have done this without you. You were a key player.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“No one’s going to buy that. Especially when I tell them the truth-that you were in on the deal all the way.”

“I can’t believe what you’re saying.”

“Believe it. Now watch your step-partner.”

The line clicked in his ear. She was gone before he could say another word.

9

•

Jack met Theo for a late di

In Jack’s eyes, Tobacco Road was the place in Miami for late-night jazz and blues, and that wasn’t just because his friend Theo was a regular sax player. By South Florida standards, it was steeped in tradition. It was Miami’s oldest bar, having obtained the city’s very first liquor license in 1912 and surviving Prohibition as a speakeasy. The upstairs, where liquor and roulette wheels were once stashed, was now a showcase for some of the most talented musicians in the area-including Theo. Tonight Theo and his buddies were slated to play at least one obligatory cut from Donald Byrd’s Thank You for… F.U.M.L. (Fucking Up My Life). It wasn’t generally regarded as the talented Mr. Byrd’s best work, and Jack was certain that the catchy title alone had put it near the top of Theo’s all-time favorite list.

Theo splashed more hot sauce on his chili, wiped the beads of sweat from his brow, and asked, “What we go

Jack had been ignoring Theo’s messages all week. It was clear that he’d viewed the interrogation of the soon-to-be-ex-wife of “Dr. Swamp” as just the begi

Jack said, “To be honest, I haven’t had much time to think about it.”

“What a crock.”

“Unlike you, I work for a living. I’ve been in trial the last four days. We still got one more day of witnesses, then closing arguments on Friday.”

“You go

“Only if I can explain a miracle.”

Jack took a minute to fill him in. His client was an accused serial stalker, not the kind of case Jack would ordinarily take, but the guy seemed to be getting a raw deal. The government’s star witness was a woman who’d claimed to have seen him ru

Theo yawned into his fist. “Can we just talk about Jessie Merrill? The rest of your life is way too fucking ridiculous.”

“You have such a way about you.”

“Least I don’t talk shit. You trying to tell me that for past week you haven’t even thought about these Viagra-kill investors?”

Jack chuckled. “You just can’t get that word, can you?”

“What?”

“’Viagra-kill?’ We’re not talking about a terminal case of erectile dysfunction. It’s ‘viatical.’”

“What the hell kind of word is that, anyway?”

“Latin. The viaticum was the Roman soldier’s supplies for battle, which might be the final journey of his life. Two thousand years later, some insurance guru thought it was a catchy way of describing the concept of giving someone with a life-threatening disease the money they need to fight their final battle.”

“And I guess some of the soldiers live to fight another day. Like Jessie Merrill.”

Jack poured some ketchup on his french fries. “She called me.”

“When?”

“The day after we went to see Mrs. Marsh. She admitted it was a scam.”

“Hot damn. Now we got her.”

“No. We don’t got anybody. You’re not going to like this, but I’ve decided to let it go.”

“What?”

“What’s done is done. It’s not my place to fix it.”

“Aw, come on. Think in these terms: How much did she pay you in legal fees?”

“I gave her the friend’s rate. Flat fee, twenty grand.”

“There you go, my man. I can get you twenty times that much now.”

“I’m sure you could. But that would be extortion, now wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t care what you call it. You can’t just let her get away with this.”

“I don’t have a choice. I was her lawyer. All I can do at this point is be content with the knowledge that, yes, I was played for a sucker. If I start looking for something more than that, it’s going to be trouble.”