Breach Of Promise

11

At ten Monday morning, on a threatening day with clouds billowing day with clouds billowing over the western mountains, Rachel Pembroke entered Nina’s conference room looking as if she’d stepped off the runway at a New York fashion show. The dress was Isaac Mizrahi, the shoes Manolo Blahnik. The perfume made you want to lean in and breathe deep. Her long black hair gleamed like an oil strike, geysering down the front of her dress. A diamond on her left hand flashed prisms of expensive light. She was young, beautiful, and about to be very, very rich.

Everyone had heard about her trip to the emergency room on Friday afternoon, and that she had told the police she was convinced that Lindy was involved in some plot to harm her, but the only obvious sign of her troubles was a long scratch on one cheek. Apparently, Nina thought, Rachel was the kind of person who came out fighting.

Genevieve followed her to the conference table, looking understated in a sensible wool suit with a rose-colored blouse. She laid her notepads and pens out neatly on the table in front of her. Winston was a no-show. He and Genevieve must have decided to alternate on the depositions. Riesner had called to say he was ru

“Oh, hi,” said Rachel to Genevieve, peering at herself in a silver-backed mirror, obviously mistaking the woman at her side for a secretary. “I’m dying for some coffee. Think you could get me some?”

Nina paused at the door to see how Genevieve would respond. Up came the curly head. “How do you take it?” Genevieve asked sweetly. “In your lap or on your head?”

Rachel snapped her compact shut. “Excuse me?”

Genevieve laughed lightly. She held out her hand, which Rachel shook, looking confused. “Forgive me for not introducing myself to you right away. I’m Genevieve Suchat, jury consultant for the other side.”

She held on, and apparently pressed a little hard, because Rachel gave out a teeny squeal and pulled sharply away. “Well, I certainly didn’t mean to offend you,” Rachel said, massaging her hand.

“Oh, God, no. I’m sure you didn’t,” Genevieve said, with a false smile.

Genevieve put her vexation with Rachel into one word during the lunch hour, as they walked down the snowy path that led from the office into the Truckee marsh now piling with snow. “Flaunting,” she said, her Southern accent very pronounced. She seemed most Southern when she was most upset. “Don’t you just hate flaunting?” She kicked at a loose clod of hardened snow. “Must drive Lindy Markov insane, seeing Rachel dolled up like that in clothes only Mike could afford.”

“She’s going to be tough for us,” Nina said. “I already told you I think she’s very convincing. According to her, Mike makes every major decision.”

“Naturally, she says that. She’s his girlfriend.”

“But she sounds so reasonable,” Nina said. “She’s full of facts and figures. She remembers specifics the rest of them have forgotten all about. She’s very personable and very professional, once she starts testifying. And she also comes across as being so understanding of Lindy’s situation. I hated the way she so magnanimously excused Lindy for attacking her the night of Mike’s party.”

“She ought to get that plane ticket early.”

“Plane ticket? For what?”

“The Oscars,” said Genevieve, and they both laughed. “She’s got a lock on Best Actress for next year.”

“Her believability makes our job harder.”

“I’m watchin’ her,” Genevieve said. “I’m studyin’ every eyelash on that gal. I’m going to help you prepare for her testimony at trial. And when we get done, Miss Rachel’s going to look like a ten dollar hooker at the Tailhook convention.”

“Well,” Nina said. “I don’t know. That kind of approach might backfire. I don’t feel comfortable with all these stereotypes. Like-Mike’s the man, so he ran the company and Lindy helped. Or Lindy’s the greedy, cast-off mistress. Let Riesner rely on those old stereotypes. I don’t want to sink to that.”

Genevieve rolled her eyes. “Nina, I know it’s a temptation. I’ve seen it a thousand times. The lawyer wants to state the logical, honest truth of the matter. But that’s all head stuff. You don’t win the heart of the jury appealing to their reason. And if you don’t win the heart of the jury, you go home with a hole in your pocket.”

This statement made Nina stop and turn to face Genevieve. “That’s all I know how to do, Genevieve. I don’t want the jury to decide based on sentiment. I want them to decide based on the-”

“Oh, honey, you have so much to learn. You want to make that big fee or not?”

“Of course I do. I just-”

“Well, I’m going to make sure you do. Now let’s go back to that primped-up thing and wipe the fifty dollar lipstick off that smart mouth of hers.”

Over the weekend, Lindy had holed up in her trailer, tying up personal business, paying bills, lying on the couch, and gazing out the window at the cloudless sky. She expected Rachel to accuse her. She expected to be arrested.

Tuesday afternoon, when no one had come, she broke down and rode Comanche to the little store. There, she changed a few bills for quarters and went to the phone to call George Demetrios at the plant. He wasn’t there anymore, a coworker told her, but she had a number at home which Lindy tried.

She hated having to call George. He had a crush on her, and she didn’t like to encourage him. Still, it was lucky George had come along when he did out there on the snowy hillside. Or had it been luck?

“Hey, Lindy. How are you?” George asked with real concern.

“Fine, George. But why aren’t you at work?”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“I got ca

“What? You’ve been with us for five years! Mike has lost his marbles. How can they fire you?”

“Oh, he had nothing to do with it. It was Pembroke got me fired.”

“But… she doesn’t have a lot to do with manufacturing directly, does she?”

“I don’t know what she does. I just know she talked with my boss, and the next thing I knew I was out on my… fired.”

Picturing his thick lips and olive skin, she thought for a moment. “You think they did this because of what happened on the road?”

She could almost hear his brain chugging around the idea. “Maybe, so,” he said.

“How is Rachel?”

“She’s okay.”

“George, how is it you happened along when you did? Were you following me?”

“I guess I was,” he said.

“Why?”

There was a long silence. “I saw you at the plant,” he said. “I saw you take off after Rachel.”

“Oh.”

“I just didn’t want you to get into any stupid kind of trouble.”

Although the scene had been the cause of several sleepless nights, the idea of her following Rachel and George following her up the snowy road suddenly struck her as terribly comical. She stifled an urge to laugh. You just never knew what people were going to do, did you? “What happened after I left?”

“They hauled her off to the hospital. She had a few cuts and bruises, nothing big. Then the police came to interview me because she said you were stalking her.”

“She did? Wow.” Could just one time be called stalking?

“She starts in on this story that you were in the car with her and told her to pull over. That you pulled a knife on her.”

“In the car with her? But I wasn’t!”

“Yeah. Said she drove off the road because she was scared to death and hit her head on the steering wheel. But she looked okay.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I set them straight, told them I saw it happen and there wasn’t no one there but her.”

“Oh, George.”

“Everyone knows things aren’t so hot between you and her. I didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. I knew it wasn’t you. You left in that Jeep you were driving. How could you have been in the car with her?”

“You lied for me, George. You shouldn’t have done that. What do the police think?”