Mickey Haller 4 - The Fifth Witness

cancel Wednesday night pancakes because of the trial—and leaving things last time on a rough note with Maggie, I felt compelled to drop by the home they shared in Sherman Oaks. Maggie opened the door with a frown, apparently after seeing me through the peephole.
    “Bad night for surprise visitors, Haller,” she said.
    “Well, I’ll just visit Hayley for a bit, if that’s okay.”
    “She’s the one having the bad night.”
    She stepped back and to the side to allow me to enter.
    “Really?” I said. “What’s the problem?”
    “She’s got a ton of homework and she doesn’t want to be bothered by anyone, even me.”
    I looked from the entry area into the living room but didn’t see my daughter.
    “She’s in her room with the door closed. Good luck. I’ll be cleaning up in the kitchen.”
    She left me there and I looked up the stairs. Hayley’s bedroom was up there and all at once the climb looked forbidding. My daughter was a teenager and subject to all the mood swings that come with that designation. You never knew what you were going to get.
    I made the journey anyway and my polite knock on her bedroom door was greeted with a “What?”
    “It’s Dad. Can I come in?”
    “Dad, I have a ton of homework!”
    “So that means I can’t come in?”
    “Whatever.”
    I opened the door and stepped in. She was in the bed and under the covers. She was surrounded by binders, books and a laptop.
    “And you can’t kiss me. I have zit cream on.”
    I came to the side of the bed and leaned down. I managed to kiss her on the top of the head before the arm came up to push me away.
    “How much more have you got?”
    “I told you, tons.”
    The math book was open and facedown so she wouldn’t lose her place. I picked it up to see what the lesson was.
    “Don’t lose my spot!”
    Sheer panic, end-of-the-world angst in her voice.
    “Don’t worry. I’ve been handling books going on forty years now.”
    As far as I could tell, the lesson was about equations assigning values to X and Y and I was completely lost. They were teaching her things beyond my reach. It was too bad it was stuff she’d never use.
    “Boy, I couldn’t help you even if I wanted to.”
    “I know, neither can Mom. I’m all alone in the world.”
    “Aren’t we all.”
    I realized that she hadn’t looked up at me once since I’d been in the room. It was depressing.
    “Well, I just wanted to say hi. I’ll leave now.”
    “Bye. I love you.”
    Still no eye contact.
    “Good night.”
    I closed the door behind me and went down to the kitchen. The other female who seemed to be able to control my mood at her whim was sitting on a stool at the breakfast counter. She had a glass of chardonnay in front of her and an open file.
    She at least looked up at me. She didn’t smile but she made eye contact and I took that as a victory in this home. Her eyes then went back to the file.
    “What are you working on?”
    “Oh, just refreshing. I have a prelim tomorrow on a strong arm and I haven’t really looked at it since I filed it.”
    The usual grind of the justice system. She didn’t offer me a glass of wine because she knew I didn’t drink. I leaned against the counter opposite the breakfast bar.
    “So I’m thinking of running for district attorney,” I said.
    Her head shot up and she looked at me.
    “What?”
    “Nothing, just trying to get somebody’s attention around here.”
    “Sorry, but it’s a busy night. I’ve got to work.”
    “Yeah, well, I’ll go. Your pal Andy’s probably burning the oil, too.”
    “I think so. I was supposed to meet her for a drink after work but she canceled. What did you do to her, Haller?”
    “Oh, I clipped her wings a little bit at the end of her case, then came out on mine like gangbusters. She’s probably trying to figure out how to counter.”
    “Probably.”
    She went back to her file. I was clearly being wordlessly dismissed. First my daughter, now the ex-wife I still loved. I did not want to go gentle into that good night.
    “So what about us?” I asked.
    “What do you mean?”
    “You and me. Things didn’t end so good the other night at Dan Tana’s.”
    She closed the file, slid it aside and looked up at me. Finally.
    “Some nights are like that. It doesn’t change anything.”
    I pushed off the counter and came to the breakfast bar. I leaned down on two elbows. We were eye to eye.
    “So if nothing’s changed, then what about us? What are we doing?”
    She