'You're all right. I don't care what anyone else says,' Claire told him. 'I may even be proud of you one day,' she teased.
'Thanks for the vote of confidence,' Mason said. 'What are you up to?'
Claire sighed. 'I'm going to Sonni Efron's funeral this morning. Care to come along?'
'No thanks. I didn't know her and I've already been to the cemetery today.'
'Really? What for?'
Mason ran his hand through his hair, stalling for time, knowing that was a mistake with Claire. 'I hadn't been in a while. The grave looks nice. They keep it trimmed up.'
'Uh huh,' Claire said. 'That's nice.'
'I didn't know you were close to Sonni Efron,' Mason said, changing the subject.
'We belonged to some of the same organizations. We weren't close friends, but I knew her well enough to pay my respects. What an awful thing. Shot to death like that in her own home.'
'The paper says the cops don't have any suspects yet. Harry hear anything?' Mason knew that Harry kept his lines of communication humming with his former colleagues.
'Just that they don't have a clue. Her house is between Ward Parkway and State Line, set way back from the street with landscaping like a wall around the front door. No one saw or heard anything and it happened in broad daylight.'
'Hell of a thing,' Mason said.
'Yes it was. Now tell me why you were at the cemetery since you obviously don't want to talk about it,' Claire said.
'It's crazy really,' Mason said, unable to resist his aunt. 'I met Nick Byrnes at the execution the other night. His parents were the murder victims. I told him my parents were killed when I was three, just like him. I was making small talk, if you can do that at an execution.'
'Passes the time,' Claire said.
'Anyway, he asks me how my parents died and I tell him they were killed in a car accident. He says that's what his grandparents told him until he found out the truth. I told him they were just trying to protect him because he was just a kid and…'
Claire interrupted, 'He asked you who was trying to protect you and your devious, suspicious mind wasn't satisfied with the obvious answer that no one was, so you went to the cemetery to ask your parents. Am I right?'
Hearing her say it made it sound all right and silly at the same time. She was telling him that she understood and that he shouldn't worry about it. 'On the money,' he answered, relieved.
'I loved your parents dearly,' Claire said. 'They're gone and they've been gone a long time. Visit them as often as you like, but leave it alone. Life is for the living. I've got to get ready for the funeral.'
Mason expected Claire to reassure him about the car accident, not tell him to forget about it. Her response sent a tremor through him.
'Good advice,' he lied. 'By the way, someone left a rock on the headstone. A nice one, all polished and smooth. I'm sure it wasn't you.'
'No,' she answered too quickly, unable to keep the caution from her voice. 'It wasn't me.'
'Any idea who might have left it? I mean who visits their grave besides you and me? And why now?'
'I don't know,' she answered. 'Maybe it was someone visiting another grave that had an extra stone and thought it would be a nice gesture.'
'Makes sense,' Mason said, not believing it did. 'I've got another client at eleven. I'll let you go.'
Mason had settled into a funk by the time Nick Byrnes arrived. Crumpling junk mail into tight wads, he riffled them through the hoop nailed to the back of his office door, letting the door sweep the pile away the next time someone opened it. He'd taken on Mary's case as much out of misplaced guilt as conviction, pissed off his best friend in the process, and gotten the runaround from Claire, the one person who never ran him around in his life.
Mary Kowalczyk charmed him with her poignant strength, while Blues left her one step short of assault with intent to kill. As for Blues, he'd never walked away from Mason before. And Claire had never lied to him, though he couldn't shake the suspicion that she had at least dodged the truth this time. Mason felt like he was slipping into an
Adding to his irritation, Mickey Shanahan, his legal assistant, was late again. Mickey had spent the summer working as a volunteer on Josh Seeley's campaign for the U.S. Senate. Abby Lieberman did public relations work for Seeley and hooked Mickey up with the campaign. Mickey's life ambition was PR and politics, shoving his day job to the bottom of the priority list. The primary was three weeks away and Mason had seen less and less of Mickey as the summer wore on.
Nick Byrnes's arrival did nothing to lift Mason's mood. The kid came in pulling a handcart loaded with three banker's boxes. Mason knew what was in the boxes before he saw the neatly printed lettering on the sides-
'How ya doin', Mr. Mason,' Nick said, standing in front of Mason's desk, breathing hard from carrying the boxes and the handcart up the stairs, a sheen of sweat dampening his hairline and wetting his upper lip.
'I'm good, Nick. How 'bout you?' Mason asked.
'Hot, man. This weather is a killer. They say it's gonna be like this for another couple of weeks.'
'Stay cool, son. No heavy lifting,' Mason said. 'That your file on your folks' case?'
'Yeah,' Nick smiled sheepishly. 'I know it looks like a lot of stuff, but I've organized everything. I've got the police reports, the trial transcript, and the exhibits. Well, except for stuff like the clothes. The cops still have that in storage. They don't throw anything away.'
Mason nodded, wondering why he ever thought Nick had a case for him that didn't involve the murders. It was the nature of solo practice. Every day began with the hope that a homerun case would walk through the door, landing in his lap like a winning lottery ticket. Mason doubted that Nick wanted him to get a pardon for Ryan Kowalczyk.
'Have a seat. What do you want me to do with all that?' Mason asked, pointing to the boxes.
Nick didn't hesitate. 'I want you to sue Whitney King for the wrongful death of my parents,' he began, holding up his hand before Mason could answer. 'I was a minor when they were killed. That means the statute of limitations didn't start to run until I turned eighteen. I have a year after that to sue him. My time runs out two weeks from today. I've been all over town looking for lawyers to take my case, but everyone turned me down. They all say that I don't have a case since King was acquitted. I ask them about O.J. Simpson. He was acquitted too and the families nailed his ass for big bucks on a wrongful death deal. They don't care. They're only interested in the sure thing. You're my last chance.'
Mason leaned back in his chair, hands clasped across his middle. 'Do you need the money?'
Nick furrowed his brow. 'Nah. My folks had life insurance. It's in a trust fund that will pay for college and get me started when I finish school. I don't need the money.'
'Then why do it?' Mason asked.
Nick stiffened. 'Come on, Mr. Mason. That asshole killed my parents and he got away with it! Nobody gives a shit about that, I guess. Everybody says the system isn't perfect; it was a long time ago, leave it alone, life is for the living. What a load of crap! Son of a bitch, Mr. Mason, I thought if anyone would get it, you would!'
Mason grinned. 'Oh I get it all right, Nick. I just wanted to make sure you did. There's just one problem.'
'What's that?' Nick asked.
'Mary Kowalczyk beat you to the punch. She hired me this morning to get a pardon for her son.'
'A pardon? What good will a pardon do him? Besides, he was guilty.'
'She doesn't think so. She wants me to clear his name and prove that King killed your parents. I can't represent both of you unless you both agree.'
'As long as you nail Whitney King, I don't care what you do for Kowalczyk. He's dead, so it won't matter anyway.'
'Maybe or maybe not,' Mason said.
