Peter was alive. I wanted so much to tell her that Peter was on Tarizon and that I'd actually seen some footage of him with a young woman in a hotel. Such news would bring her back to life in an instant. If only I could figure out a way to talk to her without Kulchz or the CIA knowing about it. Unfortunately, I didn't know how their surveillance system worked, so there was no way I could take a chance at circumventing it.

  After I changed into jeans and a T-shirt, I sat next to her on the sofa. "Hi, babe," I said. "Alice said to say hi."

  "You went all the way to Waco to see them?"

  "Yeah, they've got a serious problem. Their bookkeeper's been embezzling from them."

  "Really?" she said picking up the remote and shutting off the TV. "I'm going to bed."

  Without another word Rebekah was gone and I was left staring at a blank TV screen. I wondered if it was always going to be this way. I prayed that one day Rebekah would suddenly snap out of her depression and our life would return to some semblance of normalcy. I knew it would never be the same, but I'd settle for anything close. After a while I looked up and Marcia was standing in the doorway rubbing her eyes. I motioned for her to come to me.

  She rushed over and sat down. "Hi, honey. Did I wake you up?"

  "No, I've been studying. I was hoping you'd come home before I went to bed. I haven't seen you all day and I didn't want to go to bed without saying goodnight."

  I looked at my watch and it was a little after ten. I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "Yeah, I had to drive to Waco. Some clients are in trouble."

  "Are you going to be able to help them?"

  I shrugged. "I don't know. I sure hope so. They're really nice people."

  "I think I might be a lawyer."

  That caught me by surprise. I didn't believe in pushing children into a profession, so I hadn't ever suggested that they might want to be attorneys.

  "Really? How come?"

  "Because if I'm a lawyer and can go to work with you and see you every day."

  My heart sank. Jesus, the poor kid was desperate for attention. I put my arm around her and held her tightly.

  "Honey, I'm sorry everything's been so screwed up lately. I know it's been hard on you and your brothers; but just hang in there and things will get better. I promise."

  "Why won't mom talk to me? Is she mad at me?"

  "No. She's not mad at you. She's mad at me and the world."

  "What did you do?"

  "I didn't protect Peter. That's a father's job and I failed miserably."

  "But what could you have done?"

  I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe worry more about my family and less about myself and my clients."

  She frowned. "Well, I don't think it was your fault."

  I squeezed her and said, "Thank you, honey. You better go to bed."

  She nodded, gave me a hug and a kiss, and went upstairs to her room. As I was heading for bed, the telephone rang. I rushed over quickly to pick it up as I didn't want it to wake everyone up. I wondered who would be calling so late.

  "Hello."

  "Mr. Turner?"

  "Yes."

  "Sorry to call you at home, but something's happened."

  "Who is this?"

  "Walter Stanley. I'm a member of the Collin Commons Homeowner's Association."

  "Oh, right. I've seen your name on the roster. What's going on?"

  "There's been a fire."

  "A fire? Where?"

  "One of our townhomes was destroyed. The fire department is still here."

  "Is everyone okay?"

  "I'm afraid not."

  A cold tingling sensation washed over me.

  "Chester Brown and his family all died."

  "Oh, my God! All of them?"

  "Yes, the fire spread quickly, I guess. I heard one of the firemen say they thought it was arson. They smelled gas or kerosene or something."

  "What? Why would someone do that?"

  "I don't know, but the Allen police want to take me in for questioning."

  "Take you in? Why?"

  "On account of the dispute between me and Mr. Brown over the fence. Your partner can tell you about it. She was at our last meeting."

  "A fence?"

  "Right."

  "Okay. . . . All right. Don't say anything to the police. Just tell them you have an attorney and he's on his way. Either Paula or I will be right over."

  "You can't come?"

  "Well, I will if Paula can't, but I'd like her to handle this, if possible. She's got more time. I just took on another murder case yesterday and I doubt I could handle two at the same time. Don't worry, though. Paula's very good. Probably better than I am, if you want the truth."

  "Okay, I've heard about her too and she seemed nice when I met her at the homeowner's meeting."

  "Good then. I'll call her right now and one of us will be right over. In the meantime, keep your mouth shut. Not a word to the police."

  "Right. Thanks."

  After hanging up I called Paula. This was great timing because now Paula would have something to do to keep her mind off of Bart's problems and keep her away from the Charlotte Wenzel case. I needed to handle that one by myself because of the CIA connection. The phone rang several times before she answered.

  "Hello."

  "Paula. This is Stan."

  "Stan?. . . What's wrong? It's nearly midnight."

  "I know. I'm sorry. But you've got a murder case."

  "I do?"

  "Yes. Remember Walter Stanley at the Collin Commons Homeowner's Association?"

  "Stanley," she mumbled. "Yeah, vaguely."

  "Well, there's been a fire in one of the units and the entire family, all five of them, have died. Walter's being taken to the Allen Police Station for questioning right now. The father's name was Chester Brown. Apparently they've been feuding for some time."

  "They think he set the fire?"

  "Apparently."

  "Oh, wow! I'm on my way. I'm going to bring Bart too. With five murders, I'll need him."

  "Sounds good to me. I've had a long day, so I don't think I'll join you at the station. You guys can handle it, can't you?"

  "Yes. We've got it covered. Go to bed."

  "Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."

 

  6

  The Feud

  Paula Waters

  One of the interesting things about law practice is how quickly things change. I'd been bored to tears since my last big trial ended several months earlier. Now, all of a sudden we have two major murder trials in progress. It didn't take Bart and I long to get out of the condo and on the road to the Collin County Sheriff’s office. We were like a couple of firemen answering a call and it felt good. Bart was particularly happy because he'd be back in his old stomping ground and was sure to run into some of his old colleagues, maybe even Gary Shepard.

  "Who do you think will be prosecuting the case?" I asked.

  "Richard Francis would be my guess. He was chief prosecutor before Gary Shepard was hired. He's a decent guy. Of course, with five victims he'll be under a lot of pressure to make an arrest."

  "Stan said Walter Stanley seemed very calm considering he was about to be taken into custody and was probably the primary suspect in the case."

  "Some guys are like that," Bart said. "It may be because he's innocent and believes the system will protect him or he's guilty but thinks he's smarter than everyone else and can beat the system."

  The police station was deserted when we walked in. A lone dispatcher was seated behind a counter working. As we approached, she looked up.

  "Hello. Can I help you?" she asked.

  "We're looking for Walter Stanley. We understand he's here being questioned."

  She nodded. "He's here all right, but nobody's questioning him. Are you his lawyers?"

  "Yes. Can we see him?"

  "I don't know. I'll tell Mr. Francis you're here."

  Bart looked at me and smiled. He was right; it was Francis. We took a seat and waited
. After a few minutes a tall man with red wavy hair walked up. Bart stood up and they shook hands.

  "It didn't take you long to get a new job, Bart," Francis said smiling.

  "No. I got lucky. Turner and Waters is suddenly up to its elbows in murder cases. . . . You know Paula don't you?"

  Francis nodded, "Yes, I think we crossed paths a time or two. How are you doing, Paula?"

  "I don't know yet," I said. "I haven't talked to my client."

  "Well, you must have put the fear of God in him. He hasn't given us anything but his name, rank, and social security number. I think he believes he's a prisoner of war."

  I laughed. "That must have been Stan's doing. I haven't talked to Mr. Stanley yet."

  "Well, he's in Room Two. You can have a minute with him and then Detective Rhodes would like to ask him a few questions."

  "Sure," I said. "We just need a minute."

  He nodded and Bart and I went into Room Two where we found Stanley sitting quietly behind a small interview table. I introduced Bart and we sat across from him.

  "Detective Rhodes wants to talk with you here in a minute. You don't have to talk with him if you don't want to, but if you don't they will think you have something to hide."

  "I didn't set the fire, Ms. Waters. I swear to God."

  "Okay, watch what you say in here; they may be listening. You've seen interrogations on TV, right two way mirrors and all." He nodded. "What do you know about the fire?"

  "Not much. I was making some microwave popcorn; getting ready to watch Johnny Carson, you know, when I heard sirens. I rushed outside because they seemed so close. As soon as I got out the door, I saw the red glow in the sky and smelled a strong odor of smoke."

  "So, that would have been about ten-thirty?"

  "Yeah, thereabouts."

  "Do you know anything about how the fire got started or who might have set it? Apparently they think it was arson."

  "Yes," Stanley replied, "they told me that, but I don't know anything about it."

  "At your last homeowner's association meeting