Tell Me Your Dreams Part 15

"Dr. Steven Patterson opened a free clinic for babies with AIDS...."

"Dr. Steven Patterson arrived in Kenya today to open the Patterson Medical Center...."

"Work on the Patterson Charity Shelter began today..."

He seemed to be everywhere, donating his time and his money to those who needed him.

Sandra's voice shook David out of his reverie. "David. Are you all right?"

He turned away from the television set. "They've just arrested Steven Patterson's daughter for those serial killings."

Sandra said, "That's terrible! I'm so sorry, darling."

"He gave Mother seven more years of a wonderful life. It's unfair that anything like that should happen to a man like him. He's the greatest gentleman I've ever known, Sandra. He doesn't deserve this. How could he have a monster like that for a daughter?" He looked at his watch. "d.a.m.n! I'm going to be late."

"You haven't had breakfast."

"I'm too upset to eat." He glanced toward the television set. "This...and today's partners.h.i.+p day..."

"You're going to get it. There's no question about it."

"There's always always a question about it, honey. Every year, someone who's supposed to be a shoo-in winds up in the loser's box." a question about it, honey. Every year, someone who's supposed to be a shoo-in winds up in the loser's box."

She hugged him and said, "They'll be lucky to have you."

He leaned over and kissed her. "Thanks, baby. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to. You'll call me as soon as you get the news, won't you, David?"

"Of course I will. We'll go out and celebrate." And the words reverberated in his mind. Years ago, he had said to someone else, "We'll go out and celebrate." "We'll go out and celebrate."

And he had killed her.

The offices of Kincaid, Turner, Rose & Ripley occupied three floors in the TransAmerica Pyramid in downtown San Francisco. When David Singer walked through the doors, he was greeted with knowing smiles. It seemed to him that there was even a different quality in the "good mornings." They knew they were addressing a future partner in the firm.

On the way to his small office, David pa.s.sed the newly decorated office that would belong to one of the chosen partners, and he could not resist looking inside. It was a large, beautiful office with a private washroom, a desk and chairs facing a picture window with a magnificent view of the Bay. He stood there a moment, drinking it in.

When David walked into his office, his secretary, Holly, said, "Good morning, Mr. Singer." There was a lilt in her voice.

"Good morning, Holly."

"I have a message for you."

"Yes?"

"Mr. Kincaid would like to see you in his office at five o'clock." She broke into a broad smile.

So it was really happening. "Great!" "Great!"

She moved closer to David and said, "I think I should also tell you, I had coffee with Dorothy, Mr. Kincaid's secretary, this morning. She says you're at the top of the list."

David grinned. "Thanks, Holly."

"Would you like some coffee?"

"Love it."

"Hot and strong, coming up."

David walked over to his desk. It was heaped with briefs and contracts and files.

Today was the day. Finally. "Mr. Kincaid would like to see you in his office at five o'clock... You're at the top of the list." "Mr. Kincaid would like to see you in his office at five o'clock... You're at the top of the list."

He was tempted to telephone Sandra with the news. Something held him back. I'll wait until it happens, I'll wait until it happens, he thought. he thought.

David spent the next two hours dealing with the material on his desk. At eleven o'clock, Holly came in. "There's a Dr. Patterson here to see you. He has no app-"

He looked up in surprise. "Dr. Patterson is here?" here?"

"Yes."

David rose. "Send him in."

Steven Patterson came in, and David tried to conceal his reaction. The doctor looked old and tired.

"h.e.l.lo, David."

"Dr. Patterson. Please, sit down." David watched him slowly take a chair. "I saw the news this morning. I-I can't tell you how very sorry I am."

Dr. Patterson nodded wearily. "Yes. It's been quite a blow." He looked up. "I need your help, David."

"Of course," David said eagerly. "Anything I can do. Anything." Anything."

"I want you to represent Ashley."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. "I-I can't do that. I'm not a criminal defense lawyer."

Dr. Patterson looked him in the eye and said, "Ashley's not a criminal."

"I-You don't understand, Dr. Patterson. I'm a corporate lawyer. I can recommend an excellent-"

"I've already had calls from half a dozen top criminal defense lawyers. They all want to represent her." He leaned forward in his chair. "But they're not interested in my daughter, David. This is a high-profile case, and they're looking for the limelight. They don't give a d.a.m.n about her. I do. She's all I have."

"I want you to save my mother's life. She's all I have." David said, "I really want to help you, but-" David said, "I really want to help you, but-"

"When you got out of law school, you went to work for a criminal law firm."

David's heart began to beat faster. "That's true, but-"

"You were a criminal defense lawyer for several years."

David nodded. "Yes, but I-I gave it up. That was a long time ago and-"

"Not that long ago, David. And you told me how much you loved it. Why did you quit and go into corporate law?"

David sat there, silent for a moment. "It's not important."

Dr. Patterson took out a handwritten letter and handed it to David. David knew what it said, without reading it.

Dear Dr. Patterson,There are no words that can ever express how much I owe you and how much I appreciate your great generosity. If there's ever anything at all that I can do for you, all you have to do is ask me, and it shall be done without question.

David stared at the letter without seeing it.

"David, will you talk to Ashley?"

David nodded. "Yes, of course I'll talk to her, but I-"

Dr. Patterson rose. "Thank you."

David watched him walk out the door.

"Why did you quit and go into corporate law?"

Because I made a mistake, and an innocent woman I loved is dead. I swore I would never take anyone's life in my hands again. Ever.

I can't defend Ashley Patterson.

David pressed down the intercom b.u.t.ton. "Holly, would you ask Mr. Kincaid if he can see me now?"

"Yes, sir."

Thirty minutes later, David was walking into the elaborate offices of Joseph Kincaid. Kincaid was in his sixties, a gray monochrome of a man, physically, mentally and emotionally.

"Well," he said as David walked in the door, "you're an anxious young fellow, aren't you? Our meeting wasn't supposed to be until five o'clock."

David approached the desk. "I know. I came here to discuss something else, Joseph."

Years ago, David had made the mistake of calling him Joe, and the old man had had a fit. "Don't you ever call me Joe." "Don't you ever call me Joe."

"Sit down, David."

David took a seat.

"Cigar? They're from Cuba."

"No, thanks."

"What's on your mind?"

"Dr. Steven Patterson was just in to see me."

Kincaid said, "He was on the news this morning. d.a.m.ned shame. What did he want with you?"

"He asked me to defend his daughter."

Kincaid looked at David, surprised. "You're not a criminal defense lawyer."

"I told him that."

"Well, then." Kincaid was thoughtful for a moment. "You know, I'd like to get Dr. Patterson as a client. He's very influential. He could bring a lot of business to this firm. He has connections with several medical organizations that-"

"There's more."

Kincaid looked at David, quizzically. "Oh?"

"I promised him I'd talk to his daughter."

"I see. Well, I suppose there's no harm in that. Talk to her, and then we'll find a good defense attorney to represent her."

"That's my plan."

"Good. We'll be building up some points with him. You go ahead." He smiled. "I'll see you at five o'clock."

"Right. Thank you, Joseph."

As David walked back to his office, he wondered to himself, Why in the world would Dr. Patterson insist on having me represent his daughter? Why in the world would Dr. Patterson insist on having me represent his daughter?

Chapter Twelve.

AT the Santa Clara County Jail, Ashley Patterson sat in her cell, too traumatized to try to make sense of how she got there. She was fiercely glad that she was in jail because the bars would keep out whoever was doing this to her. She wrapped the cell around herself like a blanket, trying to ward off the awful, inexplicable things that were happening to her. Her whole life had become a screaming nightmare. Ashley thought of all the mysterious events that had been happening: Someone breaking into her apartment and playing tricks on her...the trip to Chicago...the writing on her mirror...and now the police accusing her of unspeakable things she knew nothing about. There was some terrible conspiracy against her, but she had no idea who could be behind it or why. the Santa Clara County Jail, Ashley Patterson sat in her cell, too traumatized to try to make sense of how she got there. She was fiercely glad that she was in jail because the bars would keep out whoever was doing this to her. She wrapped the cell around herself like a blanket, trying to ward off the awful, inexplicable things that were happening to her. Her whole life had become a screaming nightmare. Ashley thought of all the mysterious events that had been happening: Someone breaking into her apartment and playing tricks on her...the trip to Chicago...the writing on her mirror...and now the police accusing her of unspeakable things she knew nothing about. There was some terrible conspiracy against her, but she had no idea who could be behind it or why.

Early that morning one of the guards had come to Ashley's cell. "Visitor."

The guard had led Ashley to the visitors' room, where her father was waiting for her.

He stood there, looking at her, his eyes grief stricken. "Honey...I don't know what to say."

Ashley whispered, "I didn't do any of the terrible things they said I did."

"I know you didn't. Someone's made an awful mistake, but we're going to straighten everything out."

Ashley looked at her father and wondered how she could have ever thought he was the guilty one.