The Perfect Alibi (Robin Lockwood #2)(2)

“Who the fuck was that?” Healy asked.

“A girly girl who just kicked your ass,” McGill answered.

Healy watched Robin for a second before turning back to McGill. “Is she single?”



* * *



Robin was still feeling pretty good an hour later, when she walked into the offices of Barrister, Berman & Lockwood. The firm took up one side of the tenth floor of a downtown high-rise, and the waiting room was decorated with glass coffee tables and comfortable sofas and armchairs.

After law school, Robin had gotten a clerkship with Stanley Cloud, the chief justice of the Oregon Supreme Court. When her clerkship ended, her boss had helped Robin get her dream job, a position as an associate with Regina Barrister, the queen of the Oregon criminal defense bar. Shortly after Robin was hired, Regina started showing signs of dementia while she was defending a complex death penalty case. When the case ended, Regina stopped practicing law and turned over her firm to Robin and Mark Berman, her other associate. Justice Cloud was Regina’s lover, and he had retired from the supreme court so they could travel the world while Regina still had the capacity to enjoy the journey.

As soon as Robin walked in, Linda Garrett, the firm’s receptionist, pointed at two women who were seated in the reception area. “They were waiting in the hall when I opened up,” Linda said. “They don’t have an appointment, but they want to see you.”

Robin studied the women. The contrast between them was dramatic. The younger woman looked to be in her late teens or early twenties. She was slender—gaunt, actually—like someone with an eating disorder.

The older woman was so obese that she barely fit in her chair. Fat rolled over the top of her stretch pants, and her doughlike arms and face were rounded and undefined.

The contrast extended to their posture. The younger woman curled up in her chair, and she looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else. The older woman leaned forward aggressively, her anger energizing her to the point where stillness became impossible.

“Hi, I’m Robin Lockwood. I understand you’d like to see me.”

The older woman struggled to her feet. “We most definitely do,” she said.

“Why don’t you come back to my office.”

Robin walked slowly so the heavyset woman could keep up. She led the women down a long hall decorated with prints by Honoré Daumier that depicted lawyers and courts from the 1800s. On the way, they passed the office of Jeff Hodges, the firm’s in-house investigator, and Mark Berman, Robin’s partner.

Mark was thirty-two with long brown hair, brown eyes, and the rock-hard body he had developed while competing on the University of Washington’s nationally ranked crew. Robin’s partner was married, with a four-year-old daughter, and seemed immune to stress. When Regina retired to travel the world, he had graciously given Robin Regina’s corner office, which had a spectacular view of the Willamette River, the foothills of the Cascade Range, and the snowcaps that crowned Mount Hood and Mount St. Helens.

“I’m Maxine Stark, and this is my daughter, Randi,” the older woman said when they were seated with the door closed. “Randi’s been raped, and we want you to help us set things right.”

“When did this rape occur?” Robin asked.

“Three weeks ago. The cops already got the guy.”

“What do you want me to do, Mrs. Stark?”

“We want you to make Blaine Hastings suffer the way he made my Randi suffer. He’s an animal, and animals belong in cages.”

“I can’t help you there, Mrs. Stark. A district attorney will be prosecuting. That’s the person who will try to send Mr. Hastings to prison.”

“But you can take away the money that made him so high and mighty, can’t you? You can sue for every penny he has.”

“I can help you sue,” Robin agreed.

“Good! That’s why we’re here.”

Randi Stark’s shoulders were hunched, and she seemed to be pulling into herself. Robin guessed that her mother’s aggressive behavior was upsetting her.

“I’ll need to talk to your daughter so I can find out the basis for her lawsuit.”

“Go right ahead. She has nothing to hide.”

“I assume you’re aware of the attorney–client privilege that makes anything Randi says to me confidential.”

“I watch a lot of lawyer shows on TV,” Maxine assured her.

“Then you know that Randi will lose the privilege if a third party hears what she says to her lawyer.”

A look of confusion clouded Maxine’s features. “I’m her mother.”

“Unfortunately, there is no mother–daughter privilege. So, I’m going to have to ask you to wait outside while we talk. My secretary can get you coffee or tea while you wait.”

“Randi needs me,” Maxine insisted.

“Of course, you’re her mother. But you don’t want to be the cause of losing her lawsuit, do you?”

“Well, no, but—”

“I knew you’d understand. And I’ll call you back in as soon as we’re done.”

Maxine hesitated for a second, then slowly levered herself out of the chair. “I’ll be outside if you need me, honey,” she said before she waddled out of Robin’s office.