While Justice Sleeps(44)
Beep. “Ms. Keene. Rebecca DeHart, Channel Nine. I’d like to speak with you about your recent appointment to serve as guardian for Justice Howard Wynn. Please call my cell at your earliest convenience. (202) 555-0105.”
Beep. “Avery Keene, this is Wendy Kavanaugh with Talk 1280. We’d like to have you join us on air tomorrow to discuss the ethics of euthanasia. Our special guests will include Dr. Azzie Preston and Dr. Barb Marston. We go on air at seven for morning rush hour. I’ll call this number then.”
“Crap.” Dropping the pen to her lap, she rubbed her eyes.
Beep. “Avery, honey. Ayanay Ferguson from Spelman. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m now a producer with The Harris Hour. It would be a big favor to me if you’d agree to a one-on-one exclusive with our anchor, Michael Holloman. He’d like to discuss your friendship with Justice Wynn and why he selected you to make the final decisions about his life. I know we haven’t talked much since college, but I hope I can count on you. I’ll give you a call in the morning—will see if I can get your cell. Ciao!”
On and on, messages begged her to come on every radio, television, and Internet broadcast in the greater DC area, and all four national morning shows. When she reached the death threats, she threw the pen across the room. Avery snatched the phone from its cradle and jabbed the familiar sequence of digits, not pausing to consider the time.
A drowsy voice answered, “Avery, I’m on my first break following an eighteen-car pileup and a double rotation. The house had better be on fire.”
“Have you seen the news?”
“I’ve seen a punctured spleen, a severed thumb, a man who tried to perform plastic surgery on himself to resemble Jimi Hendrix, and I’ve seen dawn twice, but no, I haven’t been watching television today.”
“I’m sorry. My stuff can wait. I’ll call back—”
Ling cut her off: “I’m awake now. Tell me what’s going on.”
Avery tucked her legs beneath her, the story spilling out. “Justice Wynn is in a coma and he appointed me his legal guardian and his son thinks I’m supposed to save both their lives and his wife wants him taken off life support. His nurse is dead and a thousand reporters have our home number. Plus, Rita found the apartment and—”
To stop the torrent, Ling latched on to the last revelation. “Rita found us? Did she take anything?”
“No, she didn’t make it past the front door.” Avery shut her eyes, shame warring with experience. “She’s strung out. I gave her some cash and made her leave.”
“Good. Now, tell me what’s going on again—slowly.”
Settling back, Avery launched into a description of her day. From the early hunt for Rita to the strange dinner with Jared Wynn. “Then I check my messages and the entire press corps has the story. It’s insane.” Her eyes fell shut, and she rested her head against the wall. “I’m just—”
“Overwhelmed,” Ling supplied. “Rightfully so. Plus, you’re stupid.”
Her eyes shot open. “What?”
“I said you’re stupid.”
“Did you hear what I’ve just told you? Exactly what part of this is my fault?”
“You’re stupid because you waited until two in the morning to call me.”
“I thought I could handle it.”
“Which is also why you’re an idiot.”
“Thanks for the support.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” On a narrow hospital cot, Ling flipped onto her stomach, phone propped against her ear. Friendship with Avery Keene had never been dull. Avery had left their school in second semester, but Ling had stubbornly stayed in touch, tracking her wherever she landed. Unlike everyone else, she wouldn’t allow herself to be shunted aside. Avery needed her. “What’s the bottom line?”
“I was with Jared when I realized what ‘Las Bauer’ was—from Nurse Lewis’s message. It’s a chess reference. I think Justice Wynn was saying that I’m one of the key pieces in the game, and he’s telling me that I have to find the other one.”
“Okay. Well, if you’re important, that’s good news, right?”
Avery waited a beat. “The novelty of Lasker Bauer was the death of the bishops. He sacrificed those pieces to win the game.”
“Meaning you?”
“Possibly.”
“Then you’re going to have to refuse the power of attorney.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not refusing it.”
“Someone killed a nurse and is making secret calls to you. Your boss thinks you’re a chess piece that’s disposable. This isn’t your fight. Get away from the Wynns.”
“Justice Wynn asked for my help,” she replied firmly, ignoring the twist in her gut. “He said he needed me to finish this. Whatever this is. I can’t walk away. Not yet.”
“He’s as good as told you that you’re expendable, Avery. Be smart.” Ling paused, searching for the right words. “Justice Wynn is using you. Just like Rita. He knows you’ll put his welfare before your own, because that’s what you do. Between your martyr syndrome, the years of maternal guilt, and transference of affection to a father figure, you’re a doormat.”