Lost Lake

CHAPTER SEVEN

As soon as the door closed behind her new client, Ami regretted her decision to visit Morelli. Her fear and doubt increased as she drove to the county hospital and peaked when she opened the door to the office of Dr. Leroy Ganett, the physician in charge of Morelli’s case.

Ganett was a tall, angular man with unruly brown hair who sat with his back to the room’s only window. His office was furnished with a dull gray metal desk and an old wooden bookshelf. Ami introduced herself, and Ganett waved her into a seat in front of a wall covered by his degrees and a picture of him in shorts and a T-shirt standing on a dock beside a gigantic marlin.

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Vergano?”

“Daniel Morelli is my client. I want to meet with him.”

“No one told me that the court appointed a lawyer.”

“I’m not court-appointed. I’ve been hired to represent Mr. Morelli.”

Ganett frowned. “I don’t know if I can let you see Morelli without the DA’s approval.”

Ami was afraid that Dr. Ganett would say something like this. She honestly had no idea whether the district attorney could prevent her from seeing Dan. She wasn’t kidding when she told Vanessa Kohler that she knew next to nothing about criminal law. She did remember something that she’d seen on a TV lawyer show, though.

“Dr. Ganett, everyone in America has a right to counsel. It’s guaranteed by the Constitution. The district attorney has no power to keep Daniel Morelli from his attorney. Neither does this hospital.”

Dr. Ganett looked unsure of himself. Ami smiled and addressed him in her most reasonable tone.

“Look, doctor, I don’t have any desire to make a federal case out of this visit, and I’m sure you don’t want to have the hospital dragged into court over an issue it can’t win.”

Ami half hoped that Ganett would refuse to let her see Dan. It was an easy way out. But Ganett shrugged.

“There’s a policeman on duty. If he doesn’t object, I won’t.”

“Thanks. How is Mr. Morelli doing?”

“He’s depressed and withdrawn. He hasn’t said a word to anyone since he got here. But I’d be surprised if he wasn’t depressed. He’s been shot; he’s facing criminal charges. Depression would be normal under these circumstances.”

“What’s his physical condition?”

“He was a mess when we got him. One bullet penetrated the spleen and grazed the left kidney. We had to remove the spleen. Then there was blood loss. He’s on antibiotics and analgesics for the pain, and we’re running some tests because he’s spiking a fever, but considering everything, he’s doing fine.”

Ganett handed Ami a medical report. “Here. You can keep that. It’s a copy.”

Ami scanned the report, and Dr. Ganett translated the medical terminology that Ami did not understand. Morelli’s white count showed a mild leukocytosis with a shift to the left. There were some old scars and evidence of plastic surgery and a flat plate of the abdomen showed metal fragments posterior to the right iliac crest compatible with shrapnel. The hematocrit was stable at 31.

“You wrote that the incision is healing,” Ami asked. “What does that mean in terms of how long Mr. Morelli will be in the hospital?”

“I’m not releasing him to the jail tomorrow, if that’s what you want to know. He still needs to be hospitalized. But he’s pulling through nicely, so he may not be here long.”

“Thanks. Can I see Mr. Morelli now?”

“Sure thing.”

The security ward was on the third floor at the other end of the hospital. A muscular orderly dressed in white pants and a short-sleeved white shirt was reading a paperback western at a wooden table to the right of a metal door. In the center of the door was a small, square window made of thick glass. A push-button bell was affixed to the wall beside the door. The orderly put down his book when he saw Dr. Ganett and Ami approaching.

“Mrs. Vergano is with me, Bill. We want to see Mr. Morelli.”

Bill talked into his radio. A few seconds later, the door swung open. Another orderly was waiting inside. Ami followed Dr. Ganett down a wide hall that smelled of disinfectant. The coffee-colored walls looked as if they could use a coat of paint. A long hall led off to the right. Dr. Ganett turned down it, and Ami saw a policeman seated in front of a door similar to the one at the entrance to the ward. As they got closer to the officer, Ami started to perspire and her stomach turned. She wasn’t doing anything illegal, but she felt as though she was. Ami was certain that the policeman would see through her the moment he looked at her.

“Officer, I’m Leroy Ganett, Mr. Morelli’s doctor. This is Ami Vergano, an attorney who’s been hired to represent Mr. Morelli. She’d like to talk to him.”

The policeman asked Ami for her bar card and picture ID. Ami handed him the card and her driver’s license. While she waited for him to ask the incisive questions that would expose her, the policeman checked her face against her photograph.

“You’ll have to leave your purse out here,” the policeman said as he handed back her ID. “Don’t give the prisoner anything. Okay?”

Ami nodded, finding it hard to believe how easy it had been to get in to see Morelli.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Dr. Ganett asked.

“I have to see him alone. Attorney-client confidentiality, you know,” Ami answered, successfully hiding her nervousness.

“Then I’ll get back to my work,” Ganett said as the officer opened the door to Morelli’s room.

“Thank you for the help.”

The doctor smiled. “No problem.”

“Knock when you’re through,” the policeman told Ami before closing the door after her.

The hospital room was spartan. Two plain metal chairs and a squat metal chest of drawers stood against the wall. There were bars on the windows. Morelli’s bed had been cranked up so that he was partially sitting. He stared at Ami without expression. His complexion was pale and his cheeks were hollow, but his gaze was intense. A nasogastric tube, leading from his stomach to his nose, was taped to the side of his left nostril, and a bottle containing a clear solution was suspended over the bed. It dripped its contents into another tube that had been inserted into Morelli’s left forearm. Ami walked over to the bed and looked down at the injured man.

“Hello, Dan. How are you feeling?”

“Not great, but better than I did a few days ago.”

“Dr. Ganett says you’re doing well.”

“Did he say what’s going to happen to me?”

“You’ll stay in the security ward of the county hospital until you’re well enough to be transferred to the jail.”

“That’s not good,” Morelli said, more to himself than to Ami.

“Have you been locked up before?”

“In ’Nam,” he answered softly, his mind far away from the reality of the hospital.

“Were you a soldier? Is that where you learned how to fight like that?”

The question snapped Morelli back to reality. “How did you get in to see me?” he asked, suddenly suspicious.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the only visitor I’ve had except for a detective and some guy from the DA’s office. Why would they let you in?”

Ami reddened. “I told them I was your lawyer.”

Morelli’s eyes widened and he became agitated. “That’s no good. You shouldn’t have done that. Go out and tell them you’re not.”

“Why?”

“Just take my word. You need to stay away from me. It won’t be good for you or Ryan if our friendship becomes general knowledge.”

“It’s too late for that,” Ami answered bitterly. “The fact that we know you has been splashed all over the papers and TV. The media can’t get enough of the story of the Little League game that turned into a bloodbath. They’ve made my life and Ryan’s miserable.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I haven’t seen a television or read a paper since…”

Morelli’s voice trailed off. He looked very worried.

“Ryan misses you,” Ami said.

“Did he see what happened?”

“Of course. You were lying there in a pool of blood. He thought you were dead.”

Morelli’s features softened and he hung his head. “I never wanted those kids to see that.”

“Then why did you do it?”

The prisoner shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. It just happened so fast. If I could, I’d take it back.”

Morelli looked at Ami. He was distraught. “You have to go. I appreciate that you came, but don’t come back, please. And tell Ryan that I’m okay. I don’t want him worrying about me.”

“I’ll tell him, but I do have something I need to talk over with you before I go.”

“What’s that?”

“I really am your lawyer in a way. A woman hired me to represent you, this morning. She says that she can help you. I told her I couldn’t handle your case. I don’t know anything about criminal law. But I did agree to give you a message.”

“Who is she?”

“Her name is Vanessa Kohler.” Morelli looked stricken. “She says she knew you in high school and that you met again in the mid-eighties. She’s staying at the Hilton in room 709. I have her phone number.”

“No! You tell Vanessa I’m not going to see her. Tell her to stay away from me. Tell her to go home.”

“But she thinks she knows a way to help you.”

Morelli’s features tightened. “Do as I say, Ami. Tell her to go home. And I don’t want you coming around either. It’s not safe to be around me.”

“But Dan…”

“Get out,” he yelled. “Get out now. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

Ami was upset when she left the hospital. She’d never imagined that Morelli would reject her assistance so forcefully. During the ride back Ami tried looking at the situation from his point of view, and her anger cooled. Dan was seriously wounded and facing incarceration. He was a man who loved the outdoors and he would probably end up in prison. His future was very bleak. As Dr. Ganett had said, it would be normal to be depressed in Dan’s situation, and it was selfish to expect Morelli to be pleasant and grateful for her visit.

Morelli’s reaction to finding out that Vanessa Kohler was in town was also understandable. He hadn’t seen the woman since the mid-1980s. Ami had no idea what their relationship had been like twenty years ago. Vanessa was definitely odd. Maybe Morelli had never liked her and did not want her sticking her nose into his business.

In any event, Ami thought as she opened the door to the reception area, her work on Morelli’s case was over. He’d made that crystal-clear. She would call Vanessa Kohler and tell her that Morelli did not want her to represent him and did not want to talk to either of them.

“Mrs. Vergano,” the receptionist said, the moment Ami stepped into the waiting room, “these gentlemen are here to see you.”

Two men in business suits stood up and studied her in a way that made Ami very uncomfortable. They both looked like take-charge types. The taller of the two was handsome in a male model sort of way. His sharp features would photograph well from any angle, but they were so perfect that they looked a little off, like a really good attempt at computer animation. The other man was shorter and bulkier. His hair was not blow-dried like the model’s and his clothes were less expensive. Ami thought his nose had probably been broken. He had the look of someone who did not believe anyone, ever.

“Ami Vergano?” the taller man asked unpleasantly.

“Yes.”

“I’m Brendan Kirkpatrick of the Multnomah County District Attorney’s office. This is Howard Walsh, a detective with the Portland Police. We’d like a word with you.”

“Sure,” Ami said, forcing a smile. She knew this had to be about Morelli’s case, and she felt like a kid who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “Come on back to my office.”

As soon as they were in the office, Kirkpatrick and Walsh took seats without being asked.

“What’s this about?” Ami asked, hoping that she sounded pristinely innocent.

Kirkpatrick fixed Ami with a look that told her he wasn’t buying anything she had to sell.

“I just received a very disturbing call. You know Dr. Leroy Ganett, don’t you?”

Ami didn’t answer. Kirkpatrick smiled coldly. “He knows you. He told me that you showed up at the county hospital and told him that you were Daniel Morelli’s attorney. Dr. Ganett says that you threatened to sue the hospital if he didn’t let you meet with my prisoner. So, Mrs. Vergano, are you Morelli’s attorney?”

“Yes,” Ami answered as her stomach lurched like a car on a roller coaster.

“Well, that’s interesting. The court didn’t appoint you and Morelli hasn’t made any calls or had any visitors until you forced your way into his room.”

“Morelli was staying with you, wasn’t he, Mrs. Vergano?” Walsh asked in a manner that implied that Morelli was more than just a tenant. Ami decided not to bite.

“He was my lodger.”

“Did you tell Dr. Ganett that you were Morelli’s lawyer so you could pay him a social visit?” the detective asked.

“No, I did not.”

“Then who hired you?” Kirkpatrick demanded.

Ami concluded that these two thought they could bully her because she was a woman who had no clout. Her fear gave way to anger, but she chose to answer with a smile.

“I’m afraid that’s confidential.”

Kirkpatrick reddened. “This isn’t a game, Mrs. Vergano. Your boyfriend attacked a police officer and almost killed a man. He…”

“Just one minute,” Ami interrupted. “Daniel Morelli has never been my boyfriend, and I resent your insinuation. Now come to the point. Why are you here?”

“There’s no reason to get upset,” Walsh said, trying to calm everyone. “We’ve run into a problem, and it’s made us a little nervous.”

“What problem?” Ami asked.

“Morelli’s ID is phony. We ran his prints and they don’t show. From what we can tell, Morelli appeared in Portland two months ago. Before that, he didn’t exist.”

Ami was unable to hide her surprise.

“I believe you told the officer who interviewed you at the ball field that you met him at an art fair,” Walsh continued.

“That’s right.”

“Did you know him before that?”

“No.”

“Well, neither does anyone else we’ve talked to, and what with the phony ID and the way he handled himself at the ball game, we’re concerned that he might be a terrorist.”

Ami paled. She’d never considered this possibility. Morelli was definitely a trained fighter. Had he learned how to kill people with a pencil at an al-Qaeda training camp?

“We were hoping you could tell us who he really is, Mrs. Vergano,” the detective said.

Ami shook her head. “I really can’t. I’ve only known him for two months and he’s always told me he was Daniel Morelli.”

“Maybe the person who hired you knows his real name,” Kirkpatrick prodded.

“I’m sorry,” Ami answered apologetically. “I can’t give you that information. It’s confidential.”

Kirkpatrick turned to Walsh. “You know what I’m thinking, Howard. I’m thinking that no one hired Mrs. Vergano. I’m thinking she made up a story about being Morelli’s attorney so she could get in to see him.”

“That would be a serious crime, Brendan.”

“Obstruction of justice, at a minimum, Howard.” Kirkpatrick switched his focus to Ami. “But the charges could get a lot worse if Morelli does turn out to be a terrorist.”

“You can threaten me all you want, Mr. Kirkpatrick, but you know I’m not allowed to reveal the name of the person who hired me.”

“If someone did hire you.” Kirkpatrick looked around Ami’s office. “From the look of your digs, you’re not doing too well. Morelli’s case is getting a lot of publicity. His lawyer will get a lot of press; maybe even get his or her face on Court TV. Have you been doing a little ambulance chasing?”

Ami stood up. “That’s it. I want you out of my office.”

“I think you went up to the hospital and lied your way in to see Morelli so you could sign him up,” Kirkpatrick continued, ignoring Ami’s outburst. “You can get disbarred for that.”

“If you stay one minute more you’ll be trespassing. Before you start threatening me with disbarment, you might think about what the bar would do if I told them how you’ve acted in my office.”

Kirkpatrick smiled brazenly, completely unfazed by Ami’s threat. “We know you’re not Morelli’s lawyer, Mrs. Vergano. Dr. Ganett got suspicious but he wanted to make sure of his facts before he called me. So he asked Morelli if you were his attorney. Morelli says you don’t represent him.”

“We can settle this difference of opinion easily enough,” Walsh said. “Why don’t you accompany us to the hospital? If the prisoner says that you’re representing him, we’ll apologize.”

Ami felt trapped. She had lied to Dr. Ganett. She had never really represented Morelli. She couldn’t unless he agreed. If she went to the hospital Morelli would tell Kirkpatrick and Walsh that she wasn’t his attorney. But if she refused to go, they might arrest her.

“That’s an excellent suggestion,” Ami bluffed, “and I will expect both of you to apologize when Morelli tells you that I’m representing him.”

“You’ll be hiring your own attorney if he doesn’t,” Kirkpatrick fired back.

Dr. Ganett looked nervous when he saw Ami, Kirkpatrick, and Walsh walk into the area in front of the security ward. He nodded uncomfortably at the DA and the detective but could not bring himself to look Ami in the eye.

“It’s good to see you again, Dr. Ganett,” Kirkpatrick said, “I believe you already know Mrs. Vergano.”

Ganett flushed when Ami’s name was mentioned. “I hope I didn’t cause any trouble.”

“Not a bit,” Walsh assured him. “Why don’t you escort us down to Morelli’s room?”

They waited outside the security door without speaking while the orderly radioed inside. Kirkpatrick and Walsh looked relaxed and confident. Ganett shifted from one foot to the other. Ami’s mind was racing.

The door opened with a metallic snap and Dr. Ganett led the way to Morelli’s room. Ami could not believe her predicament. In moments, she might be under arrest with her career in jeopardy. How would she support herself and Ryan if she were disbarred? She imagined the effect on her son of seeing his mother branded a criminal.

Morelli was sitting up when they entered. His eyes moved from Kirkpatrick to Walsh to Ami. When they reached her, she tried to communicate her distress. Morelli’s expression did not change.

“Remember me, Mr. Morelli?” the deputy DA asked.

“Don’t answer that,” Ami cried out.

Kirkpatrick seemed shocked that Ami had the temerity to interrupt him. Ami turned to Kirkpatrick.

“My client has a right to consult with counsel before he answers any questions from a prosecutor or the police.”

“What are you trying to pull?” Kirkpatrick asked angrily.

“I’m not trying to pull anything, Mr. Kirkpatrick. I’m giving my client the advice any responsible lawyer would. I would be totally incompetent if I let a client talk to the authorities without first conferring with him. That’s what lawyers do, Brendan. They advise their clients.”

Kirkpatrick turned red. Morelli looked from Ami to the deputy DA.

“Is this woman your attorney?” Kirkpatrick demanded, his rage barely under control.

“Don’t answer that,” Ami instructed.

“I’d better follow my attorney’s advice, Mr. Kirkpatrick,” Morelli said.

Kirkpatrick turned on Ami. “You think you’re smart, don’t you?”

“I think I’m this gentleman’s attorney, and I also think you owe me an apology.”

Kirkpatrick glared at Ami for a moment, then turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Walsh took their defeat with grace. He shook his head and tossed Ami a respectful grin.

“I would like to consult with my client, Dr. Ganett,” Ami said firmly.

“Of course. I’m sorry. I was concerned that…” he stammered.

“That’s quite all right,” Ami answered magnanimously. “I’m glad that you were concerned enough to check on me. Most people wouldn’t have been that conscientious.”

“What was that all about?” Morelli asked as soon as they were alone. Ami sank into a chair and started to shake.

“Are you all right?” Morelli asked.

“Barely. That jerk Kirkpatrick accused me of…” She shook her head, “all sorts of things. He said I was an ambulance chaser.” She looked at Morelli. “They would have arrested me if you didn’t say I was your lawyer. Thank you, Dan.”

“My pleasure. Kirkpatrick is an asshole.” He smiled. “I liked the way you handled him.” Morelli laughed. “I thought his head was going to explode when you told him you wanted an apology.”

Ami tried to be dignified for another moment, but all of sudden the tension that had been crushing her evaporated and she began to giggle uncontrollably.

“He was pretty upset, wasn’t he?” Ami said.

“I don’t think he likes people who stand up to him.”

Ami blushed. She felt proud of herself for not backing down. Then she sobered up.

“There are two things we have to discuss,” Ami said.

“Go ahead.”

“You need a lawyer.”

Morelli started to say something but Ami cut him off.

“I’m only going to represent you until I can get a good criminal defense lawyer to step in. But you need help.”

“I don’t know if I want help.” Morelli looked sad and defeated. The sudden transformation shocked Ami. “I almost killed Barney, and I would have killed that cop if his partner hadn’t shot me.”

“Why did you do it?”

“When Barney swung, my training took over. I wasn’t thinking,” Morelli answered so softly that Ami had trouble hearing him. “I swore I’d never hurt anyone again, Ami. I’ve tried so hard.” He shook his head. “Maybe I should just take what’s coming and get it over. I’m so tired of running.”

“Who are you, Dan?” Ami asked.

Morelli blinked. “What?”

“Who are you really?”

“I don’t understand the question,” Morelli answered warily.

“They checked your ID. It’s phony. They ran your prints and they came up blank. Who are you?”

Morelli turned his head away from Ami. “I’m not anyone you’d want to know,” he answered sadly.

“Dan, I want to help.”

“I appreciate that, but you’d better go.”