Her Best Defense. Jackie/Lori Merritt/Myles

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СКАЧАТЬ watched, she poured some kind of amber liquor into a small glass and drank it in one swallow.

      Lisa gaped but said nothing. She had no right to judge Glory, even though she would much rather have her client totally clearheaded while they talked.

      Glory walked from the bar to Lisa’s chair carrying two glasses, one with water and ice chips, which she handed to Lisa, and the small shot glass, refilled of course, for herself. She sat nearby in another leather chair.

      Lisa murmured “Thanks” for the water, took a drink and then held the glass with her left hand while picking up her briefcase with her right. “I need my notepad and pen,” she said, noticing Glory sipping from her glass. She also noticed Glory’s facial expression—impatient and petulant—and her body language. The woman was poised to jump and run. Lisa had to bite her tongue not to harangue Glory again about her unbelievably naive attitude. Anyone who didn’t take a murder charge seriously couldn’t possibly be operating with a full set of marbles.

      Lisa frowned as she pondered an insanity defense. Given Glory’s complete absence of fear or even an appearance of understanding or caring about the charge against her, that might be her best bet, Lisa thought.

      “Glory, would you consent to talking with a psychiatrist?”

      “What for?”

      “Well, you have no memory of the homicide. Is it completely impossible that you did shoot Mateo during a blackout and simply don’t recollect it?”

      Glory looked pained. “If that’s the best you can do, we should probably find ourselves another attorney.” She leaned forward, her blue eyes blazing. “I’m not talking to a psychiatrist, I am not pleading temporary insanity, I’m not going to jail! Did you get all of that or would you like me to repeat it?”

      Lisa was stunned. This woman, who most of the time acted as though she were living in some sort of dream world, was fully cognizant of the situation. What Glory Witherington was, along with being drop-dead gorgeous and wealthy beyond measure, was either a sensational actress or a split personality.

      Lisa opened her notebook and took her pen in hand. With her mind racing a mile a minute behind a passive expression, she said calmly, “I understood every word perfectly, plus I learned that you’re not the airhead that you normally pretend to be. Perhaps you and I are finally getting to know each other. Let’s get started, all right?”

      Glory knocked back the second shot and put the glass on a small table to her right. “Started and finished,” she retorted. “I have plans, remember?”

      “Oh, yes, your tennis game. First, let me mention Maria. Connie, the young lady who answered the door said Maria wasn’t well. Is it something serious?”

      “She’s just hysterical over finding a body in the driveway when she came to work that morning.”

      “So she isn’t ill, she’s upset?”

      “I thought Maria was strong and sensible, but she lost it that day.”

      “Lost it? Isn’t that understandable? It surely must have affected you in a similar way.”

      Glory shrugged. “I don’t happen to be a hysterical female, and Maria is. She’ll get over it.”

      “I certainly hope so. I need to talk to her. What’s her telephone number and street address?”

      “Oh, for crying out loud,” Glory complained, but she got to her feet and started for the door. “I’ll get it. Wait here.”

      She was back in a few moments with a piece of paper. “Here, I wrote it down.”

      “Thank you.” Lisa glanced at the scrawled information on the paper, then tucked it into her briefcase.

      Glory returned to her chair but sat stiffly with her arms folded across her midriff. “What else?” she demanded.

      “What time did Mateo leave this house the night he was killed?”

      Glory’s jaw dropped. “You sound extremely accusing!”

      “I sound like your attorney. Please answer the question.”

      “Well, how in hell would I know? I told you I’d taken sleeping pills.”

      “So he was still here…and alive…when you went to bed?”

      A frown drew Glory’s perfectly arched eyebrows closer together. “I guess so.”

      “But that’s only a guess? Let me put it another way. Do you recall the time of night you took the pills? Incidentally, when you mentioned sleeping pills before, you gave me the impression that you’d taken only one pill. Now you’re using the plural. How many pills did you take that night, Glory?”

      “God, I hate being questioned like this!”

      “If you hate this, wait until you’re on the witness stand and a prosecuting attorney is doing the questioning. Glory, you must cooperate with me. I would work myself into an early grave to attain justice for a client, but the client has to freely cooperate. Now, think back and do your utmost to remember how many pills you took, and if Mateo was still here and alive when you took them.”

      Glory looked sullen but she said, “I probably took three…maybe four. I don’t usually keep count.”

      “And what were they?”

      Glory shrugged. “I don’t know. It was something my doctors gave me for my nerves and to sleep. All perfectly legal, counselor. I don’t do street drugs.”

      “Never?”

      A flush crept into Glory’s cheeks. “I never say never, Lisa, and neither should you. I’m sure you’re not nearly as perfect as you want people to believe.”

      “I’m not perfect, nor have I ever tried to trick or charm people into believing I am. But neither am I going to have to appear before a judge and jury to stand trial for murder. You are, so let’s continue, shall we?”

      “Fine! But I was out cold when Mateo was shot, so even a fool could see that I couldn’t have pulled the trigger. And the trigger of what gun? Where’s the murder weapon? Did the police find it?”

      “You’re saying there’s never been a gun in this house?”

      “That’s what I’m saying, yes. Other than Chandler’s collection of hunting rifles, that is.”

      “Did the police see those?”

      “They saw everything. They practically tore the house apart, which I’m sure is perfectly obvious. The place is still a mess.”

      “Your house is immaculate. I don’t see any mess.”

      “It’s gradually being put back together,” Glory said crossly. She looked at her watch. “Can we please hurry this up?”

      “Gladly. Chandler was in Detroit that night, right?”

      “Right.”

      “He was there on СКАЧАТЬ