Dead In The Water (Rebecca Schwartz Mystery #4) (The Rebecca Schwartz Series)

your date wasn’t this Friday, it was last Friday, and now he stood you up. If your own lawyer can’t trust you, how’s a jury supposed to?”
    She said nothing.
    “The guy’s married, I suppose. Is that it?” Suddenly I thought I knew what she was up to, and I was sorry for the remark about Libby and Keil. “Wait a minute. You’re afraid of a custody battle, aren’t you?”
    She nodded, maybe blinking tears, maybe not, I couldn’t tell.
    “Well, get it out of your head. If you have to stand trial, even if you’re not convicted, those kids are going to have to go through something a whole lot worse than any custody fight in the world. If you’re found guilty, it won’t be an issue.”
    I knew I sounded cruel—I’d learned how in acting class. But a good alibi was my best shot at getting her out of this mess. Besides, she was genuinely getting my goat. Self-destructive behavior in a client spells defeat in the courtroom. And I hate defeat.
    “I don’t expect you to understand.”
    “Okay. All right. But I’m off this case as soon as you’re arraigned.”
    “I think that’ll be best for both of us. Are the kids okay? Did Mother get here?”
    “Your mother got here. The kids are not all right. Their mother’s in jail, and they’re worried.”
    “Has Don turned up?”
    “Not yet.”
    Ava had called her “cool as a cucumber,” and while it wasn’t original, I had to admit that mother certainly knew daughter. Her business suit was pretty wilted after thirty hours of constant wear, she was a shadow of herself without her Rolex, and no one could confuse a steel toilet with the seat of power. But Marty was doing business as usual, cool as a whole truckload of cucumbers—cucumbers, in fact, garnishing Pimm’s cups being served around a swimming pool. She could have been planning the financial future of the aquarium. “Has an acting director been named?”
    “Warren Nowell—at least he said he expected to be.”
    “Damn! I could have had a shot at it.”
    “Here we go again. Look, I hate to harp on this, but you’re in jail. If you were out of jail—”
    “I’m going to be, Rebecca. On Monday at the latest—and frankly, I don’t really consider Warren a whole lot of competition. What did you think of him?”
    Was she trying to distract me from getting on her case, or was she really this cold? Maybe I’d been wrong about her that night in San Francisco—when I thought she was in denial about the breakup of her marriage. Maybe she just didn’t have any feelings.
    “He doesn’t look like much, but he was acting okay. Using his authority pretty well.”
    “Oh? I find him unprepossessing. He’s well connected, though. You’ve heard of Katy Montebello?”
    I shook my head.
    “The former Katy Sheffield. She’s probably the aquarium’s chief individual benefactor. Companies give more, but I doubt any one person has put up more money than Katy. In fact, she’s sponsoring our new exhibit. Anyway, Katy and Warren’s mother are best friends. He went to Stanford, but other than that, he’s a pretty weak sister.”
    “What’s his job?”
    “Director of education. Big deal.”
    “Who’s your other biggest competition?”
    She tapped her chin. “I don’t think Martin would take it—the director of husbandry. Really, unless they went outside—” she shrugged “—it’s Warren or me.”
    “I met someone in husbandry today—Julio Soto.”
    “Oh, shit! Esperanza was supposed to come over this morning.”
    “She did. Libby sent her home.”
    “I forgot all about it. That’s really unlike me. I should have had you call Julio—”
    “Marty, you’re in jail. Give yourself a break.”
    “This is the way I am. I run like a machine.”
    I could believe that.
    “Tell me, what did you think of Julio?” She smiled almost girlishly.
    “He seems very nice.”
    “No wonder you like fish. You’re cold, Rebecca.” Her eyes were playful.
    “I did happen to notice the mustache and the eyes and the shoulders.”
    She laughed. “I’ll bet you did.”
    We had slipped back into our old camaraderie. Weird under the circumstances, but I supposed this was Marty’s way of coping. For all I knew it was a front. Maybe as soon as I left she’d cry into her rough blanket.
    I wondered if I was relaxed enough to ask her if Julio was “J.” I tried working up to it subtly. “Was he one of Sadie’s conquests?”
    She laughed. “He’s too much man for her. She went in for the Ricky