Author: Robyn Carr

Rick was quiet for a long time. Then he said, “I don’t buy it.”

Jerry sat back, relaxed. “You will.”

Fourteen

Brie Valenzuela wasn’t expecting clients, nor was she planning to go to the prosecutor’s office where she did consulting work. There was no court today, so she was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. It was a good day to catch up on paperwork. She sat at her desk in the office attached to her home, little Ness asleep in her swing beside the desk, when there was a knock at the office door.

She knew at once this was probably a business call as opposed to a friend dropping by. There was a front door to her house as well as an external office door, beside which a sign was mounted that read, Brie Valenzuela, Esquire. That door was always kept locked when she was alone and not expecting anyone. She went to the door and looked out the peephole. There was a man there, mid-thirties or so. The fact that he wasn’t scary looking didn’t influence the way Brie handled things. “Just a minute,” she said.

She moved Ness, swing and all, through the door that led from her office into the kitchen, without waking her. Then she closed the door adjoining her office to the house. Having been both a criminal prosecutor and the victim of a violent crime, Brie never relaxed her standards, not even in Virgin River. She tucked her Glock into the rear waistband of her jeans and opened the door. “Yes?”

“Are you Brie Valenzuela?”

“I am,” she said.

He put out his hand. “Ross Crawford. How do you do?”

“Well, this is unexpected,” she said, accepting the hand. “How can I help you?” she asked without inviting him farther into her office.

“I’m trying to find Abby,” he said. “She sold her town house, and her parents refuse to tell me where she is or deliver a message to her. The airline would only tell me she took an extended leave.”

“I’d be happy to forward a message. Would that help?” Brie asked.

“Yes, absolutely,” he said. “I really need to talk to her.”

Brie took a breath. “Mr. Crawford,” she said patiently, not at all oblivious to the fact that he didn’t look like a rock star. “I’m sure you realize that from this point on, your attorneys should do the talking. Your divorce has been final for some time and the settlement is satisfied.”

“Oh, it’s not about that exactly,” he said. He wore expensive jeans, no rips or tears or chains, a flawless white button-down rolled up at the sleeves, Italian boots. His hair was a bit on the shaggy side, attractively so and curling at his collar, and he was clean shaven. “It’s personal stuff.”

“All the same, Mr. Crawford.”

“Just call me Ross. Listen, I understand if you don’t want to tell me where she is—she wouldn’t want anything to do with me now. But if you could please contact her and tell her I’d like just a few minutes of her time—”

“Of course,” Brie said. “And where should I deliver her answer? That business manager’s address in Los Angeles?”

“No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Could you call her now, please? I’m sure you have the phone number. I’ll wait.”

“Mr…. Ross, I don’t think you should be too optimistic. Honestly, my advice to her will be that she decline. As I said, the conversation should be between—”

“Attorneys, I know. What do you think got us into this mess? This doesn’t have to do with divorce or settlements or— Well, it has a little to do with it. It’s my amends, Ms. Valenzuela. I have to make amends. It’s one of my steps. I’m trying to graduate from a treatment program.”

Brie folded her arms over her chest. She wasn’t about to be reeled in by a smooth-talking addict. “Another one?” she asked.

“Third time,” he said, lifting his chin and straightening. “I’m a real hard sell. If you’ll please call her and ask her if she’ll give me fifteen minutes of her time, I’ll never bother her again. Believe me, I know I’m asking a lot. The rule is, make amends where it won’t make the life of the person you’re apologizing to more difficult. And the list is long. So long. I’ll meet her somewhere neutral if she’d like. You can be there—it wouldn’t change what I have to say. Please?”

Brie took a breath. “Do you mind waiting in your car? I should have some privacy for the call.”

“Sure. Listen, please tell her I don’t want to upset her life in any way. I swear I’ll leave her alone after this. And really, tell her, I’m an idiot, a fool, an addict and imbecile, but I’ve always been nice when I’m clean. I’m fair. She’ll remember that. Hand to God.”

“Mr. Crawford,” Brie said sternly. “Be prepared. The answer could be no. In which case you’ll have to complete your steps without her assistance.”

“Well,” he said, hanging his head, “I hope she’ll see me. If only for a few minutes. I’d like both of us to be able to get this behind us so we can move on.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her you said that,” Brie promised. “Excuse me now.”

Brie sent him back down the walk to his car. She took a deep breath, checked on the baby first and when Ness was found sleeping contentedly, she called Abby at the cabin. She explained everything Ross had said. “I don’t know what’s included in his amends, Abby, and I don’t want you unnecessarily upset. I’m not sure I recommend this, even though I’m all for working through domestic disputes and laying them to rest, if there’s a mediator present. I can serve in that capacity, unofficially. Or, it’s perfectly all right to decline this request. In fact, I could tell him that you’ll reconsider in a few months—that right now is not a good time.”

“Do you know he never once took my calls when I wanted to know what was going on with him? When I wanted to discuss the terms his lawyers set forth? I wish I wasn’t curious. The fact is, I’d like to know what he has to say about it now.”

“You’re very pregnant. I don’t want you back in court because of some egregious prenup.”

“We have this letter saying it’s over. Right? I’ll see him,” she said. “But only if you’ll be present.”

“It’s just me and the baby here,” Brie said. “I can’t reach Mike. Would you be comfortable bringing Cam? If not, I’ll call Jack. He’d come out. Just to hedge against any kind of reaction that you and I and little Ness can’t handle.”

“Oh, I don’t think Cameron would miss this for anything,” Abby said. “But if he’s tied up with patients, I’ll stop by the bar and grab either Jack or Preacher.”

Brie took a couple of minutes to brew coffee, change the baby, fix up a bottle that would keep her quiet and then, after a good fifteen minutes had passed, with the Glock stowed away again and Ness on her hip, she opened the door to signal Ross from his car. “She’s coming,” she told him when he came up the walk.

“Ah. She is here, then.”

Brie tilted her head. “With all your resources, you probably could have learned that on your own, without coming to me.”

“There’s been too much of that sort of thing,” he said. “Can I just sit over there and wait?” he asked, indicating the sofa and chair in the corner of the room.

“Sure. What do you mean, there’s been too much of that?”

“Aw, my manager hired people to keep my back. It was supposed to be for the crazies, you know? I get ’em sometimes. Abby’s not crazy. She’s just a nice girl who got hooked up with a wrong guy.”

Brie shook her head sadly. “Turns out we agree on some things,” she said, going back to her desk. She sat in her chair and gave the baby a bottle while Ross opened a thick spiral notebook, pulled out a pen, flipped it open and began writing. After a few minutes he looked toward Brie and Ness and said, “How old is she?”

“Six months.”

“And you manage a baby and lawyering?” he asked.

“It’s a small town,” she said. “I’m seldom overworked. Which is how I like it.”

“How’d you meet Abby?” he asked.

“She was referred.”

“I thought she had a lawyer.”

“Did she?” Brie asked, although she knew. Brie was of the opinion her former attorney hadn’t helped her much. Or maybe he was just up against too much of Ross’s money. “Are you documenting this meeting?” Brie asked him.

“This?” he asked, tapping the notebook. “Oh,” he laughed. “No. This is my compilation of sins and crimes. It’s not easy to remember every one of them, since I was high and plastered most of the time.” He went back to writing.

Brie heard the car door outside and lifted Ness into her swing, getting it started. She went to the door before they could enter and opened it for Abby and Cameron. Ross put down his notebook and stood expectantly. “Hi, folks,” Brie said, holding open the door.

And then she came inside, Cameron close on her heels.

“Whoa! Abby!” Ross nearly shouted. He hit himself in the chest and wobbled a little on his feet, his eyes wide and shocked. “God!” Then he shot a look at Brie. “Why didn’t you tell me she was pregnant? I mean, pregnant!”

“It wasn’t my place to tell you. It’s certainly not pertinent to your business.”

He walked toward her and reached for her. “Good God, come over and sit down.”

She pulled away from him. Cameron was at her back, his hands on her upper arms. “You’d better leave Abby to me,” Cameron said calmly, firmly.

“Oh man,” Ross said, running a nervous hand over the top of his head. “Sorry, man.” Then he stuck out a hand, careful not to get too close. “Ross Crawford,” he said.

Cameron gave a curt nod over Abby’s shoulder rather than shaking hands. “Dr. Michaels,” he said.

“You’re her doctor?” Ross asked.

“My fiancé,” Abby said.

“Whoa,” Ross laughed. “Okay, this is just a surprise, that’s all. If you don’t mind me saying so, you could use a little more than a fiancé there, Abby.”

“I mind,” she said. “Now, what’s so important, Ross?”

“Gimme a second,” he said, looking at her. “I’m sorry, but you’re awful pregnant, Abby. Kind of distracted me.”

“Well get a hold of yourself and get down to business. This is pretty inconvenient.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. Sorry. Um, can we sit?” he asked, swinging a hand toward the sofa and chair. He stepped out of the way. “Go ahead, you two. Gee.”

Once they were all seated, Ross just stared at Abby. Cameron put an arm around her shoulders and said, “Can we please move along? I might have patients waiting back at the clinic.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, Doc. Abby, I didn’t know what was happening to you with that whole divorce thing. I was high.”

“Weren’t they your lawyers, Mr. Crawford?” Cameron asked tensely.

“Yeah, sort of. Listen, I’m here to make amends, but it’s dicey. I have to do this without making excuses, so I’ll try. I went back on the road after we got married and after only about a week I started using. I met a woman at a party of some kind and gave her a job as an assistant band manager. The other guys said she was trouble and wouldn’t have anything to do with her, but I had started sleeping with her, so I ignored them and let her take care of some of my stuff. She got herself some credit cards. I didn’t even remember about them until your lawyer told me. They were supposed to be for business expenses, but I didn’t pay any attention. She played go-between with my lawyer and I signed anything she put in front of me. Hell, I think she was the one who contacted the lawyer, I was too toasted to do that. I’ve been either high or in treatment for the last year and a half. My last incarceration was for six months in Mexico. It wasn’t until I talked to your lawyer here that I found out you got soaked for all her charges. I never saw those cards either.”