CHAPTER 11
"Della!" He strode across his office, jerked open the door connecting it to Della's office, and came to an abrupt halt. She wasn't there. "Della!"
Where in the devil could she be? She had said she would stay right by the phone in case he needed her. He had needed her, and she hadn't been right by the phone. He had called and called, and she hadn't answered. "Della!"
Behind him, the door to the law library opened, and his secretary poked her head out. "Good grief, Chief, I'm right here."
"Why didn't you answer the first two times I called?" He strode to where she stood in the doorway, snappishness blooming like May flowers.
She raised one eyebrow. "I didn't hear you until you increased the volume," she replied calmly. "I was busy." She stepped aside and waved him into the law library.
He took a few steps forward, halting in surprise when he saw the fourteen-year-old son of his trusted private investigator sitting sullenly at the eight foot conference table. "Shouldn't you be in school, Junior?" He glanced surreptitiously at his secretary.
"Tell him, Junior," she prompted.
"You can tell it so much better than I ever could," Junior said, voice dripping with textbook teenage sarcasm.
She reached out and lifted his defiant chin with a firm finger, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "I'll tell Perry, but you, young man, will tell your father."
"Will somebody please tell me?"
She placed hands on hips and turned to face her employer. "Junior has been given a three-day suspension for a prank he pulled in class. Since his father is out of town investigating a case, and you were wrangling a client, I had to stop working on said client's writ of habeas corpus and go pick him up."
He leaned against the table, folding arms across his chest, irritation giving way to amusement. This should be good. The kid has already been sent home from school three times this year, all for clever but inappropriate behavior. "Well...?"
"Your investigator's son thinks he's Batman."
He barely choked back laughter. "Batman?" I thought he wanted to be Superman."
She glared at him. "One of his buddies shined a flashlight with a cut-out of a bat taped over the lens at the blackboard and Junior leapt from his seat, shouted 'to the bat cave, Robin', and ran out of the room."
He chuckled, which made her glare harder, and Junior to puff out his chest. Quickly realizing he probably shouldn't have laughed, he cleared his throat and asked in his deepest, sternest voice, 'What do you have to say for yourself, Junior?"
That was the standard question all the adults in his life asked him whenever he misbehaved, and he still didn't understand why, since they hated all of his answers. "Great stunt, huh?" Junior replied proudly. The accomplishment of making grouch-face Perry Mason laugh far outstripped the admiration of his schoolmates.
"There was a certain jen ne sais quoi to what you did, but 'great stunt' wasn't exactly the answer I was hoping for."
"Like you never pulled stunts in school," Junior mumbled petulantly. There would be punishment no matter what he said, so might as well get his digs in.
"This is a 'do as I say' not a 'do as I do' moment." The attorney, feet planted wide apart, hands in pockets, attempted to stare the petulance out of the boy.
Junior refused to be defeated, especially by someone who wasn't his parent. Shoulders squared, he opened a math textbook. "I'll do homework until someone can find time to take me home."
Lawyer and secretary exited the law library, closing the door firmly behind them.
"What happened to the little guy who used to crawl into our laps for cuddles?"
She sounded so sad that he had to pull her close and kiss the top of her head. "A monster stole him."
"He's not a monster," she objected, voice muffled by how closely he held her. "He's a teenager."
"Same difference. Where does he come up with these pranks?"
She sighed. "He's bored. And very smart." She extricated herself from his consoling embrace. "I'll have your writ for you in a few minutes."
He grabbed her hand as she moved away. "Don't bother right now. Our client is safely hidden away where Tragg won't find him for a few hours."
She rested her forehead against his chest. "Junior thinks we're old and out of touch."
"We thought our parents were fuddy duddies when we were teenagers."
"My father was a fuddy duddy," she said dryly. "Still is."
He tilted her chin up much as she had Junior's and smiled at her affectionately. "And yet, here you are, the least fuddy or duddy person I know."
She sighed and shook her head, suddenly perilously close to tears. "He doesn't listen to us because he thinks we can't possibly understand what teenagers go through."
His heart was breaking because her heart was breaking. She loved that boy so much. "Did I ever tell you about the time Bart drove home from college during finals week when Mom threatened to send me to a work farm?" He paused to smile crookedly. "I was fourteen and expected a lecture, but all he said was that as he got older, he realized Mom was getting smarter, and since he turned twenty-one she was almost as smart as him. He also said he hoped it didn't take me until I was twenty-one to realize how smart she was."
She stared up at him, eyes wide, grasping immediately Bart's advice. "You need to tell Junior that."
He raised her hand to his lips. "He'll only understand if he's ready to understand, and I don't think he's ready."
Court adjourned early due to a last-minute conflict in the judge's schedule, and would not resume until ten a.m. the next morning.
Laura Parrish reached over the gallery railing, grabbed Perry Mason's arm, and squeezed. "You were wonderful!"
Della turned away and rolled her eyes. Next to her, Kaitlynn Parrish tittered, and she cast a sidelong glance at the young woman. Kaitlynn rolled her own eyes and winked.
Flabbergasted, Della trailed behind everyone as they exited the courtroom. Kaitlynn turned back once, feeling guilty for letting her attorney's assistant see such disrespect directed at her mother, but Della was nowhere to be seen.
Perry piloted the Parrish family through the halls of the courthouse, past throngs of reporters shouting questions and thrusting microphones in their faces; past rabid fans clamoring for pictures or autographs, shouting 'we love you, Kaitlynn!'; past other attorneys and their clients inconvenienced by the sensational preliminary hearing taking place during their own legal proceedings.
Perry deposited the Parrish family at the curb just as the hired limo pulled up. After the long black Lincoln pulled away reporters swarmed him again, but he merely shook his head and waved at them jovially.
Della appeared suddenly at his side. "Perfect timing," she commented, watching the limo disappear into traffic.
"There you are!" He had known the instant she was no longer following the group without looking back. "I was worried you were trampled by fans or waylaid by reporters."
She shook her head. "I ran for the phones and called the limo. The last thing we needed was for everyone to wait on the curb surrounded by chaos."
Perry slipped his arm around her shoulders, brushed off one last reporter begging for a comment and piloted her toward the court parking lot. "That's my girl." They walked in silence a few steps. "I knew Kaitlynn would handle today well."
Della snuggled closer to him, smiling secretly to herself. "She did fine, just fine."
Ken and Gary Hawkes were meeting with Jake Lubin of Kaitlynn's record company with one of the bootlegged cassettes filched from the menacing Mr. Vance's warehouse, and Perry had headed off for a surprise visit with Frank Bossit, one of the wedding security guards, which left Della alone in the office. She glanced at her watch, placed the file folder labeled NOTES: Day 1 in the center of Perry's desk blotter on top of the folders for the next day's witnesses, and sat down in his big leather chair.
Back in the day when Perry employed her and as many as five full-time typists, his faithful clerk Carl Jackson, a revolving door of interns and assistant clerks, plus the indispensable Gertie, she'd had the freedom to accompany him as he chased clues and clients.
Widespread use of car phones, desk top computers, and a remarkable thing called 'e-mail' meant she could do the work of those five typists by herself, and quite a bit of what Paul Drake once did, but it also meant she comprised the entire office staff.
She really missed the old days.
Of course, Perry's practice was worlds different than in the past, which meant her duties had changed drastically as well. She referred to him as being semi-retired since 'all he did' since stepping down from the Appellate Court was lecture and give speeches countrywide; belong to boards of corporations in five states; and accept a few criminal cases per year.
That was an aspect of his legal career that hadn't changed: murder still sought him out, and in the past several years a large number of friends and acquaintances had required his expertise, including herself. He often joked about what it said of him as a person that so many friends found themselves in need, but she knew it really was no joking matter to him. He had always felt responsible for circumstances he couldn't possibly control.
The sound of a door opening and closing interrupted Della's reverie. She jumped up from the chair and hurried to the outer office. Expecting Ken or Perry, she wasn't prepared at all for who awaited her.
"Kaitlynn," she said in surprise. "Perry isn't here right now –"
"I was hoping he wouldn't be." Kaitlynn interrupted, "I came to see you." Her eyes roamed around the room that served as both reception area and Della's office. "Can we talk about what happened today?"
"The hearing? I'll answer whatever questions I can –"
"Not about the hearing," Kaitlynn interrupted again, shaking her head, "about what I did after court was adjourned – rolling my eyes and winking at you. Did you tell Uncle Perry?"
"No," Della replied slowly.
"Will you tell him?"
Della motioned for Kaitlynn to follow her back into Perry's office, and indicated that she take a seat in one of the leather chairs facing his desk. She settled into the other chair. "What's bothering you?"
Kaitlynn wrung her hands. "Miss Street, I love my mother."
Della nodded. "Of course you do," she said kindly. "Everyone can see that."
"My mother..." Kaitlynn hesitated, clearly wrestling with what needed to be said against the wisdom of actually saying it. "My mother cares too much about appearances. She doesn't often look below the surface of things...or people."
Della hadn't expected such candor from Kaitlynn about her mother. The young woman's words summed up succinctly what she herself suspected about Laura Parrish based on limited observation and what little Perry reluctantly imparted over the years. "But you still love her," she said softly.
"Yes. She isn't a bad person...she's a dreamer, and when her dreams go haywire, she goes haywire."
Perry had said much the same thing about Laura Parrish once: "She's intelligent, witty, and an inveterate dreamer. When life doesn't live up to her dreams, she becomes a completely different woman." Della nodded. "You're very wise and understanding. She's lucky to have you as her daughter. "
"It isn't easy being her daughter," Kaitlynn said ruefully, "especially when she acts like a love-struck teenager around Uncle Perry. Sometimes I think I raised her more than she raised me, but it was unfair to her and to you to be so disrespectful. You won't tell Uncle Perry, will you?"
Stunned by what Kaitlynn had just disclosed, Della wondered if the young woman had any real knowledge of the past or was merely accurately describing her mother's current behavior. "There is no reason to tell your attorney about eye rolling and winks."
Even though she had nothing to fear from Laura Parrish, Della had already decided not to mention the woman's gushing machinations, because if she didn't point it out he wouldn't notice. Yes, he always had been and still was that ignorant about the effect he had on the opposite sex.
Kaitlynn impulsively jumped up and gave Della a hug. "Thank you! I'm used to how Mother acts around Uncle Perry, but I was worried about how you would react. I winked so you wouldn't take her flirting seriously."
Della hugged her back. "I appreciate your honesty."
Kaitlynn sat back down. "Can I ask you a question, Miss Street?"
"Only if you call me Della."
"Uncle Perry talks about you all the time. Why haven't we met you before, Della? "
That was news to her, and Della hesitated. Kaitlynn certainly was one to get right to the point. "Perry met your mother and father when we were...apart... and he thought it best that your family be his special friends," she replied carefully.
Kaitlynn eyed her shrewdly, clearly disappointed. "In other words, ask Mother or Uncle Perry?"
"That would probably be best."
"I'm not naïve, Della." Kaitlynn jumped to her feet again and stood with hands on hips. "I figured it all out a long time ago."
So. The girl knew. Or thought she knew. "Kaitlynn," Della began gently, "It's not my place to –"
"I know," Kaitlynn said almost dejectedly. "I just want my mother to stop hurting my father. I was hoping you could help me with that."
Well, so much for Perry's awkward assertion that Max and Laura Parrish were the happiest married couple he knew. If that was his true perception, then their friends who actually did have happy marriages should be deeply insulted.
"And," Kaitlynn continued, "I want to marry Gary."
Della stood and took the young woman's hand. "You will," she assured her.
Kaitlynn's lower lip quivered. "My dress has blood on it."
Della squeezed Kaitlynn's hand and smiled. "Now, that's something I can help you with."
