Note: I wasn't going to post chapter 7 until Wednesday, but chapters 4 - 6 seem to have left a bad taste in some reader's mouths, and I hope this chapter will remove some of that bad taste.

Please excuse me while I respond to a critique: three chapters out of 24 (so far) don't tell the whole story. Life is messy, and even admirable people lose their way sometimes, behave inappropriately, and become unrecognizable. What makes people truly admirable is how they clean up their messes and go on with their lives. Emotional pain is unforgiving, and you can't assume how people will react. I have seen very successful, stable, likable people react to personal turmoil by becoming foul, hateful, and vindictive, inflicting unnecessary pain on those closest to them. I have also seen contemptible, unlikable people become sincerely humbled when tested, their outlook on life forever changed. And I have seen a lot of people, likeable and unlikable, simply crumble under life's challenges. That is why writing character backgrounds is so interesting - there are so many reactive options to cull.

I love the novels, the show is one of my top ten favorites, and I tolerate the made-for-tv-movies out of nostalgia. The foundation of fan fiction is authors taking liberties with subjects that intrigue them and maybe I've taken too many liberties in the first few chapters for the comfort of some readers, but a lot can happen between chapter 6 and chapter 24. ~ D

TCOT Absurd Assumption C7

Persephone Kay Baynum Hanify, or simply Kay-Kay*, entered Della's house and silently trailed after Perry Mason into the den when he put his finger to his lips and motioned for her to follow him. He closed the door and turned to regard the young woman who but for a quirk of fate could have been his daughter, the young woman with whom Della had formed an instant bond that had lasted over twenty years. Removed from the care of her indifferent mother and handed over to the wife of the man who had fathered her out of wedlock, Kay-Kay began to thrive, attending school for the first time, making friends, and strengthening the weakened heart of Madge Keating, who lived nine years longer than any doctor could have predicted. Kay-Kay was now a dental assistant, a wife, a mother, and a life-long member of the Della Street Admiration Society. He and Della had attended Kay-Kay's wedding, and Della had kept him informed of the girl's life since then, but here was another regret – he had only half-listened. Did she have two sons or two daughters? Didn't she live in Covina?

"Mr. Mason, how is Della? I've been calling and calling but the line was either busy or no one answered."

Perry waved in the direction of the telephone. "It was ringing off the hook when I brought her home from jail so I unplugged all the extensions. I figured she needed a day to gather herself before taking any calls."

"Well, we've been worried out of our minds about her," Kay-Kay chided the big attorney, who had the decency to duck his head contritely. "You haven't answered my question. How is she?"

"She's good. Aside from a couple of teary episodes, she's pretty much Della." And I'm so thankful she is.

That seemed to satisfy Kay-Kay, who nodded once, swiftly. "Good. Who is this District Attorney who thinks Della Street could murder someone? I'd like to give him a piece of my mind."

"Her name is Barbara Scott and she is very sharp."

"Well, she's a fool, if you ask me," Kay-Kay said darkly, drawing her shapely brows together.

Perry patted Kay-Kay's shoulder. "She's only doing her job. I must admit there is a lot of evidence that to an outsider would seem to point directly at Della."

"Well, why aren't you out there chasing down witnesses and getting to the bottom of this travesty? Isn't that what you do? Your modus operandi?"

Perry Mason gave another hearty laugh. He had forgotten how engaging Kay-Kay was. And how devoted she was to Della. Della was hardly old enough to be Kay-Kay's mother, but had often referred to her as her 'oldest daughter' and he suspected Kay-Kay considered Della a surrogate mother of sorts, especially since Madge's passing. "Because, Kay-Kay, I'm not back into the swing of things yet. We've been going over facts salient to the case." And some far more interesting facts not so salient to the case.

"Well, I feel better now, knowing that you've been with her all day. Although…how is it going being with her?"

"I thought I just answered that."

"I know the two of you aren't together anymore, Mr. Mason. I confess to reading the tabloids occasionally because getting anything out of Della sometimes can be impossible. When she brought a date to my son's confirmation party last year I concluded the relationship was over." Kay-Kay rested her fist on her hip and squinted at the lawyer. "That's another thing I can't fathom. How could you think there is anyone out there better than Della?" Those tabloids she read had featured several photographs of Mr. Mason with an actress who used to be famous.

Perry nearly sighed, his draining conversation with Robin Calhoun still fresh in his mind. "We need to stay away from topics like that, Kay-Kay."

"Della is a lady and never talks about what happened, but really, Mr. Mason –"

"And I will be a gentleman about what happened, Kay-Kay," he said firmly. "Don't you think you should call me Perry? You're a grown woman now, and let's not forget I could have been your father if the timing had been different."

Kay-Kay wrinkled her nose. "That's another thing that completely confounds me about you."

"We were very young, and your mother was very different when I knew her. "

"Well, she changed a lot between the time you first knew her and when you saw her again, well, later."

"Was it terrible all the time?" His question was quiet, concerned. He had never asked how it had really been living in that crumbling house with a drunken, agoraphobic mother and a feckless uncle whose only luck was bad.

Kay-Kay moved away from him to stroll around the den that even she could recognize still contained vestiges of Perry Mason's presence in Della's life. Perry himself had been surprised by how much of him lingered in the house after three years. He would have thought Bryce Hummel or Asher Langlois would have insisted that his things be removed. But then, he hadn't removed much of Della from his own apartment.

"Uncle Wade made it bearable," Kay-Kay replied eventually, lifting an old scuffed baseball in her hand and fingering the red stitching. "Once he was gone, I'm sure it would have been hell living alone with my mother." She smiled suddenly. "But Madge made sure that I didn't have to find out."

"I'm glad Madge took you in, Kay-Kay. She was a good woman."

"The nine years I called her Mom were the best years ever." Tears glistened on her thick, jet black eyelashes. She laughed self-consciously and dashed them away with the back of her hand. "But I'm not here to talk about me. What is the plan of action to clear Della of this ridiculous murder charge? Is there anything I can do?"

Perry seated himself on the old couch and indicated that Kay-Kay should take the leather chair, a near replica of the client chair from his law office, which was now residing in his San Francisco apartment. He had a fleeting thought that something would have to be removed from the den in order for the authentic client chair to fit, before realizing that he was putting an entire herd horses before that coveted cart. "The immediate plan of action is to locate young Master Drake. He's been missing for a few days."

Kay-Kay chuckled. "Oh Mr. – Perry – he's probably in Las Vegas jamming with the bands."

"Excuse me, 'jamming with the bands'?"

Kay-Kay nodded. "He sometimes takes off with his saxophone and sits in with bands at the clubs after hours. Della says it clears his mind."

"He's too young for his mind to be unclear." Why hadn't Della mentioned this habit of Paul's?

Kay-Kay's smiled disappeared. "Well, he's been a bit…conflicted. He took your move to San Francisco hard. And the... break-up even harder. He would die for Della, you know."

Yes, I do know. In that regard the boy and I are very much alike. "How is it you know so much about Paul but barely anything about me?" Is that how everyone described what had happened between him and Della? They had 'broken up'? Such a trite little phrase for the end of almost thirty years of living and loving and working together.

"Well, Della talks a lot about Paul. She worries about him."

The doorbell chimed and Perry leapt to his feet as if shot from a cannon, which made Kay-Kay giggle. "Excuse me, I don't want Della to wake up."

"It's probably Janet," Kay-Kay called after him as he ran from the den. "Or maybe Aggie and Teresa. Or Ruth. Actually, it could be Evelyn."

Perry threw Kay-Kay an exasperated look over his shoulder as he hurried out of the den. The bell pealed again just as he grabbed the door handle.


Perry stood next to the kitchen window that had been recently painted shut like all the other windows in the fall spruce-up Della had contracted, but close inspection revealed a thin slice in the paint where a knife had been run all around the perimeter of the window and inserted to jimmy the latch, which might not have been in the locked position judging by the relatively small amount of damage done to the window frame. He made a mental note to have Paul take photos of the obvious window-tampering during daylight hours, because the police had only searched Della's closets and trash cans for incriminating evidence against her, operating, as the police were wont to do, on the premise that suspects were guilty until proven innocent. The law enforcement arm of the judicial system had always had been a backward organization to his mind. He also made a separate note to have a security system installed no matter how vehemently Della might object.

He lit a cigarette and took a deep, calming drag. He might have to purchase a camera and take pictures himself if Paul couldn't be located soon. It was unbelievable the boy wasn't here, right now, champing at the bit to help with Della's case. Della had been hinting for a few years that maybe being a detective wasn't Paul's true calling, and Kay-Kay had called him 'conflicted', but that was no reason for him to be partying in Las Vegas and ignoring the plight of the woman who had just as much to do with his upbringing as his mother, and arguably more, thank the Lord.

He sat down heavily in a wooden Adirondack chair he had always disliked, giving no consideration as to how he was going to get out of the low, slanted seat. He couldn't hear the women, but he could see them through the window, sitting in the dining room, which Della had converted into a cozy conversation area and reading nook. Of all places for a house to have a fireplace, in this one it was the dining room, closed off from the rest of the house. Damn. Why hadn't he knocked down that lousy wall as he'd promised? Within a span of ten minutes following Kay-Kay's arrival, Janet Brent Timmons, Aggie Carpenter, Teresa Burdick, Ruth Hoban, and Evelyn Uptegraff had landed on Della's doorstep and even with his darkest looks and constant shushing, their excited feminine chatter had brought the object of their concern flying down the stairs. Seeing the gathering of her oldest and dearest friends, Della burst into what she insisted were happy tears and the chatter elevated to almost deafening levels at that point.

After an elaborate pantomime he hoped Della would understand to mean he was going to inspect the outside of the house, and if she needed anything all she had to do was shout, he excused himself from the assemblage of women. Although each one had meandered in and out of his life over the years, and Ruth had been Paul Drake's head stenographer and night operator for nine years, not one of them acknowledged his departure. As it should be. Their attention should be concentrated on Della.

Della's part-time cat had trailed after Perry as he inspected the outside of the house as well as the perimeter of the small, heavily landscaped yard and was now stretched out on the wooden deck at his feet, rolling around and giving himself a languorous bath in the cool evening air. Perry had to admit he was growing accustomed to the cat, and after discovering a section of the wooden fence that had been cut away to allow Chief to move freely between Della's yard and the yard next door, had reached through it to pull weeds that partially blocked the cat's egress. Chief had stood before the cut-out, whiskers twitching as his feline brain weighed options. In the end he decided that shadowing his newest best friend was more appealing than what awaited him on the other side of the fence, and Perry was actually grateful for the animal's companionship. Maybe he did like cats after all.

That made him smile, and he was still smiling and smoking when the back door opened and Janet Brent Timmons stepped out onto the deck, pulling an embroidered shawl around her shoulders. She quickly lit a cigarette and puffed on it nervously a few times before realizing she wasn't alone.

"Oh," she said, "you're here."

The cat lifted its head and lazily opened one eye before settling back down, unconcerned or bored by Janet's intrusion.

Della would do anything for her friends, and in Janet's case, had done something bordering on stupid, the only time Perry had ever known his girl to be so irresponsible. Janet's case had been difficult on so many levels, testing not only his legal skill, but his personal relationship with Della; Della's friendship with Janet; as well as Janet's mercenary marriage to her much older, oddly effeminate, but very wealthy husband. The marriage hadn't lasted much more than a year after her trial and she was now married to a very good looking man six years her junior, living primarily off of her first husband's very (overly) generous divorce settlement. Perry never had been able to grasp why Della considered Janet such a good friend, especially when he knew Janet's calculated marriage to Alton Brent had initially estranged the two women, and their friendship had only recently been repaired when Janet was accused of murder over twenty years ago. Following the trial they had remained thick as thieves as he used to say because it was the nicest thing he could think of regarding Janet – to backhandedly call her a thief. Of all Della's long-time close friends he had met, Janet was the one he liked the least, handily beating out the high school friend who had slept with her boyfriend, and despite what he had done for her, Janet liked him even less.

"Afraid so." He took a final drag on his cigarette and looked around for the galvanized bucket filled with sand Della kept for guests who smoked.

Janet toed the small bucket toward him as she approached a second Adirondack chair arranged at an angle to the one Perry sat in. "Always prepared," she commented.

"That's our Della," he agreed conversationally, extinguishing the butt in the pristine sand.

"How dare you."

Perry's eyebrows shot upward inquiringly, refusing to verbally take the woman's bait.

"How dare you sit there and act as if you have a place in Della's life."

"I hate to spoil your righteous indignation, Mrs. Timmons, but Della called me."

"I suppose you think you're the only attorney who can get her acquitted."

"It seems to me many years ago I was the only attorney you thought could get you acquitted."

Janet covered her face with her hands and a huge shudder passed through her body. Not as svelte as Della, Janet nevertheless had managed to stay within a dress size of her younger days with the help of many hours of exercise and much money spent at the spa to maintain her figure, whereas Della had been blessed with a familial slenderness inherited from her father. "Della was the one who thought you were the only lawyer who could help me and I went along with her. I hate that she has to go through this. And the coincidence! How great are the odds that we would both be accused of murder in our lifetimes?"

"I daresay odds are phenomenal against such a thing happening."

Janet studied the glowing tip of her cigarette, her face an expressionless mask. "The odds drop considerably simply by being associated with you, Mr. Mason. Murder seeks you out."

"That's a nasty thing to say, considering I haven't been around for a few years."

"Residual effects of your influence," Janet responded blithely, "like a comet's tail. Della has been caught in the magnetic field of that tail for far too long. Give her a break and leave before things get messy."

"Things are pretty messy right now, Janet. But as I've always said, I specialize in messes. I'll clean it up." What would be the equivalent of 'physician, heal thyself' for an attorney? 'Lawyer, acquit thyself'? It was slightly brazen of him to commit to cleaning up Della's mess before taking care of the messes he'd made in his own life the past couple of years, but cleaning up one would go a long way toward cleaning up the others.

"God, you're even more arrogant than ever. Being a judge must have really stroked your ego. By the way, how can a judge try a case?"

"A judge can try a case when he's no longer a judge. I resigned."

Janet hid her face in her hands once again. "No," she moaned. "Why did you do that, Perry? Doesn't Della have enough problems without having to deal with being responsible for your resignation?"

"I've been looking for an excuse to resign for a long time," Perry admitted quietly.

"So Della's troubles are merely a convenience for you to once again get what you want? She's been convenient for years, hasn't she?"

Perry sighed. "That came out awkwardly. I shouldn't have sat on the Appellate Court past Harvey's appointment term. I made a bad decision."

"I'll alert the media," Janet said sarcastically, raising her head once more.

"Trust me, the media has already been alerted. In case you haven't noticed, there are several reporters in cars parked out front. A couple of police detectives are out there as well."

"Can you do this, Perry? Can you defend Della successfully?"

"Yes, I can. I'm surprised you'd ask that, Janet. You know Della is innocent."

"But can you defend her without causing more damage? She's vulnerable right now, more vulnerable than I've ever known her to be - even more so than when you two broke up. Ending her relationship with Asher was difficult, and losing Arthur so horribly…and then you come charging in to save the day…please don't take advantage of her lowered resistance. Don't expect her to give you what you want because of this idiotically romantic thing you've done. She's been hurt enough."

Perry sighed again, heavily and wearily, wondering how much Janet knew about his life with Della. She might know generalities, but he would place a very large bet without blinking an eye that she didn't know a lot of specifics, just as Kay-Kay didn't, Della being who she was. "Janet, I never expected clients to like me, but a little gratitude was always welcome. Your husband paid me well for defending you, but you never thanked me, and that stuck in my craw because what you asked Della to do for you could have destroyed her. It could have taken down my practice as well, and landed you in prison, but it was the personal loss that would have been most tragic. I defended you because it was the only way I could save Della, the only way I could deal with my fear and anger for her, the only way I could repair what you had done to our relationship."

"That's quite a speech, Mr. Mason. Practicing closing arguments for your upcoming return to the courtroom? Or perhaps for a return engagement as Della's lover? For the record, I have serious objections to whatever it is you might be planning with her in that regard."

"Don't be flip. This is serious, and I should have addressed it years ago. You're a terrible friend, Janet. I never could understand why Della considered you her best friend because from what I observed, all you ever did was take what that amazing woman offered and never gave anything in return. I don't like you, and I don't care if you like me or not. I'll grudgingly give you the benefit of the doubt and won't tell Della about our little talk because I think for the first time you actually have Della's best interest at heart."

"I do," Janet choked, stung by his honesty.

"As do I. And the only plan I currently have is to get her acquitted. Believe it or don't believe it, but everything I've done since meeting Della has been for her." His voice lowered to a mere rumble. "It might not have always appeared that way, but believe me, it was. I've made mistakes, and I've paid dearly for some of those mistakes. She's my friend, and that is forever."

Janet blinked as it became clear to her. "You didn't know she and Asher had called it quits, did you? You stepped down from the bench for her even though she might reject you. Friend my eye. You're still in love with her." The last thing she had ever considered Perry Mason to be was vulnerable. But there it was, in his eyes, in his posture, in the tone of his voice. Great. If she could see it, Della could certainly see it, and it was unsettlingly attractive.

Perry's silence was his only answer.

"She rarely talked about your relationship, you know. It was just always there, and I never understood why she chose to be with you when she could have had almost any man in the world or any job she wanted. She's naturally irresistible, and completely guileless about the effect she has on men. Even Alton, who was indifferent to his own wife, couldn't resist her charms. I've tried to keep my current husband away from her because unlike Alton, Dean would make a move on her. It would destroy Della if that happened." She laughed nervously, self-consciously, at her confession.

"Mrs. Timmons, that is perhaps the most honest, most genuine thing I've ever heard you say."

She laughed that nervous laugh again, more than a little bit disconcerted that her long-held opinions about the intimidating lawyer were softening. "Where do we go from here, Perry?"

"From here, Janet, we concentrate on getting Della acquitted."

"That actually sounds like a good idea." The cat chose that moment to roll over and bat at her feet. "Chief!" Her face crumpled. "Oh God, I just realized Della named her cat after you."

*Reference my story Something to Hide

Note: The 'messy' part of Janet's and Perry's conversation is a fortuitous coincidence in regard to the critique mentioned above, having been written months ago, edited weeks ago, and ultimately circling back to my story TCOT Pretty Stones. ~ D