Suspect. Jasmine Cresswell
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offer of a divorce settlement that granted Heather extremely generous annual payments but left all the capital assets in Pierce’s hands. In retrospect, it was obvious why Pierce had been so willing to pay his wife far more alimony than any court would impose. The guy had clearly planned all along to renege and then decamp abroad.
“It’s outside my area of professional expertise to offer financial advice, Mrs. Ladrow. But in your situation, I would sell the house and buy something smaller and cheaper. Then I’d invest the balance in a mutual fund. That would generate more than enough income to cover dance class for your daughter and running shoes for your son.”
“I thought there was a law against deadbeat dads in this state,” Heather said bitterly.
“There is, and I’ll certainly do the paperwork to get a warrant issued for Mr. Ladrow’s arrest—”
“You can do that?” She brightened.
“Absolutely. If Mr. Ladrow comes back to Colorado, he’ll face a choice between paying up and going to jail. But how do we enforce the warrant if your ex-husband remains out of the country?”
“Can’t we get the police in Monaco to arrest him?”
“We can try, but there’s almost no chance we’ll succeed. The authorities in Monaco aren’t going to arrest your husband on charges stemming from a contested divorce settlement, especially since he’s now a French citizen.”
“But nonpayment of child support is a criminal offense, not just a civil matter like divorce.”
“True, but it’s not a criminal offense that foreign countries are willing to extradite for. Bottom line, as long as your ex-husband and his money stay out of the country, he’s found an effective way to thumb his nose at the American legal system.”
“I hate him.” Heather spoke with quiet venom. “I really hate him.”
Liam let that comment slide. “Is there no chance that your ex-husband is going to decide he misses his children? After a few months, he may decide it’s worth paying the money he owes in return for the chance to visit with his children.”
“That’s not going to happen,” she said bleakly. “My children are adopted. They’re wonderful young people, and the light of my life, but in fairness to Pierce—and God knows, it kills me to be fair to him—I have to admit that he always told me he’d never be able to love children who weren’t his own flesh and blood.” She gave a bitter smile. “That seems to have been the one thing he didn’t lie about.”
“I’m very sorry. The situation must be very hard for you and for your children.”
She smiled sadly. “I should have listened, shouldn’t I? It’s amazing how easy it is when you’re inside a marriage to ignore what your partner is telling you. The reality is I should have seen this coming, but I refused to accept that Pierce meant exactly what he said. He didn’t want to adopt children. I insisted, he went along to the extent of signing the papers, and—here we are.”
We get too soon old and too late smart. That had been one of his grandmother’s favorite sayings and Liam’s work provided almost daily reminders of its truth. Married couples, it seemed to him, took an especially long time to get smart about each other. His work had convinced him—if he’d needed further convincing—that marriage was a damn good way to expose yourself to the agony of hell without the extra inconvenience of dying first. He had no idea why so many otherwise sensible men and women chose to submit themselves to the torment. He realized, of course, that not every marriage degenerated into the sort of vicious endgame that Pierce Ladrow had inflicted on his wife and kids but, from Liam’s perspective, far too many of them came disconcertingly close.
Jenny, the young woman who kept watch over the reception area, came in as soon as Heather Ladrow left. “Chloe Hamilton is waiting to see you.” Jenny had clearly watched the morning news. She spoke in hushed tones, dazzled by Chloe’s celebrity and the aura of criminal scandal surrounding her. “She realizes she doesn’t have an appointment but she says she really needs to see you as soon as you can spare a moment.”
“Tell her I have no openings in my schedule this morning.” Liam was in no mood to pander to Chloe Hamilton’s strange fixation for hiring him as her defense attorney.
“You have almost half an hour before your next client is due to arrive,” Jenny pointed out.
“If you watched the news this morning, you know Mrs. Hamilton needs a criminal lawyer,” Liam said curtly.
“You were a criminal lawyer until a couple of years ago.”
Liam glanced up, startled by Jenny’s comment. She’d been with him eighteen months and had never before indicated that she knew anything at all about his professional history.
“You’re correct,” he said coolly. “I used to be a criminal lawyer. Mrs. Hamilton is almost three years too late to hire me.”
“Okay, you’re the boss. I guess I’ll tell her you’re not avail—oops.” Jenny stood aside as Chloe walked into Liam’s office.
“Mr. Raven, I’m sorry to force my way in, but I’m desperate.”
Chloe gave every appearance of speaking the truth. She looked nothing like the self-possessed, elegant woman who’d visited Liam’s offices back in early April. Her hands visibly shook and her blue eyes had huge dark circles under them, all the more visible because her face was so pale beneath its golden tan. Her outfit passed beyond casual and well into ratty. She was wearing a misshapen lime-green T-shirt that didn’t match the formality of her tailored beige slacks and her hair was haphazardly tied back with a black scrunchie. Oddly, Liam still found her attractive, a fact that did nothing to improve his mood. Sherri Norquist had taught him everything he needed to know about the idiocy of defense lawyers who took on clients to whom they felt sexually attracted. He didn’t need Chloe to provide a brush-up course in stupidity.
“As I informed you earlier this morning, Mrs. Hamilton, you should make an appointment to see Bill Schuller. I can assure you that Bill will provide outstanding counsel.”
“I tried to hire Mr. Schuller. It can’t be done. He’s fishing in the Alaskan wilderness. Nobody can reach him until he gets back to the base camp on the Alagnak River, and that’s going to be another forty-eight hours at least. I can’t wait forty-eight hours, Mr. Raven. I need a lawyer now. This minute.”
“Why the urgency?”
“Because I think the police will arrest me as soon as I go back to either my home or the official mayoral residence. My sister called me a few minutes ago. The cops have even been out to her house to see if she knew where I was.”
Liam looked at her assessingly. If Chloe was right, she definitely needed immediate legal help. “I can give you fifteen minutes,” he said, although he wasn’t sure why he made the concession. He gestured for her to take a chair.
“Do you want me to take notes?” Jenny asked hopefully.
Liam inclined his head. “Yes, thank you.”
“No,” Chloe said abruptly. “I prefer to speak to you alone, Mr. Raven. No notes.”
Jenny looked at him inquiringly, and Liam shrugged, then nodded to indicate that she should leave. As soon as they were alone, Chloe sat down, although she perched on the edge of her seat as if she might take flight at the slightest provocation.
“Tell me why you think the police are going to arrest you,” Liam said. Since he only had a narrow time window before his next client arrived, he figured they might as well cut to the chase.
Chloe’s hand fluttered, then she clenched her fists and shoved both hands into her lap as if despising the helpless gesture. “They have a witness who claims to have seen me stab Jason.”
“Who’s the witness?”
“Sophie’s nanny.”
“Does the