While Justice Sleeps(27)
TEN
Avery entered the wide, white hallways of Bethesda Naval Hospital and found her way to the information desk. Around her, families milled with friends, many in uniform. She despised hospitals and waiting rooms, the medicinal scent of death’s arrival. Impatient to be done with her visit, she waited in a short line to explain her business to the receptionist and present her ID. “I’m here to see Dr. Toca. He’s in neurology.”
A lanky frame ensconced in a white lab coat approached her post near the desk. “Ms. Keene,” he greeted her, extending a long-fingered hand that could have played Mozart. “Dr. Michael Toca. I appreciate you coming so quickly.”
“You said it was urgent,” she responded as he ushered her along a tiled corridor. “His wife is here?”
Dr. Toca led her through a maze of halls and into an elevator. As they rode up, he explained, “Not just Mrs. Turner-Wynn, but his son, Jared, too.”
This surprised Avery. Jared Wynn bore the distinction of being the only child of Howard Wynn, a status he apparently did not covet. In her time at the Court, she’d met Mrs. Turner-Wynn a number of times, but Jared had never put in an appearance. Though his photo was the only one in the justice’s office, the man never spoke of his son or the marriage that had produced him.
However, the secretaries of the Court provided all the salient details. The first Mrs. Wynn had been a fellow law student with Howard, one of a handful of women in her class. They’d fallen in love and married right after graduation. The union produced one son, and, ten years later, the first Mrs. Wynn died in their tony Georgetown home. Young Jared went to live with his aunt and uncle, and Howard Wynn sold the house. He bought another one two blocks away and never lived with his son again. For the next fifteen years, he lived as a bachelor, until he married socialite Celeste Turner.
Avery had never asked about his son; nor had she inquired about the very public estrangement of his second wife, Celeste. Six months ago, under Celeste’s orders, according to the gossip, movers had parked on Reservoir Road and bundled suitcases and boxes into a truck. The next morning, she’d become a resident of the St. Regis, and Justice Wynn had once again become a bachelor. But the oft-rumored divorce from Celeste had never materialized.
Which explained the tableau that greeted Avery in Dr. Toca’s office.
Celeste Turner-Wynn clung to youth with a fighter’s tenacity. At forty-one, she claimed thirty-five and looked twenty-five. Ruthlessly pampered sable brown hair flowed from a high widow’s peak down to perfectly sloped shoulders. Haughty brows hovered over liquid brown eyes framed with a thick fringe of lash.
She stood near a tall window, where sunlight cunningly gilded her hair, firing strands into gold. For today’s meeting, she’d worn widow’s weeds, as interpreted by Versace. Severe black, unrelieved by the black seed pearls at her neck and ears, befitted the mourning wife. The look of annoyance directed at Avery wasn’t a sharp departure from Celeste’s usual expression of haughty dismissal.
Avery glanced at the room’s other occupant. The man she assumed to be Jared Wynn lounged on the single sofa in the capacious office, long legs clad in jeans frayed at the hem. Black work boots that had never seen a construction site bore the casual scuff marks of pedestrian wear. In deference to the solemnity of the occasion, he’d tossed a blue polo shirt over his white tee, the buttons half undone. The angular face with its square jaw and hollowed cheeks replicated photos of Justice Wynn from his younger days.
She took a quick step back, surprised by the painful resemblance, only to bump into Dr. Toca. “Sorry.”
“Wait until you talk to them,” he whispered behind her, not unkindly. Toca guided her inside and shut the door firmly, not eager to have an audience. “Avery Keene, this is Celeste Turner-Wynn and Jared Wynn,” he explained as he ushered her into a chair by his desk.
Avery sat on the edge of the cushion, ready to spring up at any moment. Reaching for her manners, she began, “Hello. I’m sorry to be here under such difficult circumstances. Justice Wynn means a great deal to me, and I’m praying for his recovery.”
Celeste waved imperially and spoke to Dr. Toca. “I still don’t understand why she’s here. I am his wife.”
“Estranged,” corrected Jared, who did not move from his insolent repose. “I’m his legal next of kin, Doctor. And with all due respect to Ms. Keene here, I’m the only child he’s got.”
Dr. Toca shot a look of apology to Avery. “As I told you both, Ms. Keene has information relating to Justice Wynn that must be taken into consideration before any actions can be taken on his behalf.”
“She’s his clerk, Doctor. Not his attorney,” Celeste scoffed. “A cute little thing, right up Howard’s alley, and her concern is touching but irrelevant. Until I sign the divorce decree, he’s still my husband.”
“I am as shocked by his decision as you both must have been.” Avery clutched her bag in her lap, a copy of the POA folded inside. The original had been locked away in her office right after Toca’s call. “I didn’t know until today.”
For the first time, Jared moved, shifting forward to stare at her. “Didn’t know what?”
With a confused look at Dr. Toca, Avery’s pulse spiked. “Didn’t you tell them?”