Chapter Twenty-Two
Mia
I kept hoping that if I looked incredibly busy, then Renni wouldn’t think of asking me about Sam that morning. It was an empty hope, but I went through with it all the same. Every time Renni came to the kitchen, I either sent her to fetch me something or I made an excuse to disappear into one of the other rooms.
“Mommy!” she said at last. “What are you doing?”
I stopped for a moment, realizing how silly I was being. I couldn’t avoid Sam’s name altogether. There would be a point at which I would have to face the music, and I was starting to realize that the sooner I did that, the better. I took a breath and gave Renni a smile.
“Sorry, bunny,” I said. “I’m a little distracted this morning. What can I get you for breakfast?”
“Can I have brownies?” she asked with a mischievous smile.
I laughed. “No, you may not,” I said firmly. “Nice try, though. What you can have is pancakes with maple syrup. I have some batter left in the fridge. Or would you prefer to have waffles?”
“Waffles, please,” Renni decided.
“Good girl,” I nodded, starting to get the waffles ready.
“Can I help?” she asked, always ready to give me a hand with anything.
“You can get out the plates and the milk, sweetheart,” I nodded.
I usually enjoyed mornings like this, when it was just Renni and me getting breakfast ready together. It was more than just ritual, it was a bonding experience and I’d come to rely heavily on those ever since we had lost Clint. I had just set a crisp golden waffle on Renni’s plate and pushed it towards her when the question I had been dreading came.
“Mommy, where’s Sam?” Renni asked. “We haven’t seen him in so, so long.”
I paused for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain it to her. Renni looked at me with those green eyes that were the mirror image of mine, and I saw more maturity and awareness in them than was normal for a five year old. I wasn’t sure if her father’s death had aged her or if she was just naturally an old soul. I did know that telling her the truth was the only option here.
“Sweetheart,” I started. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing Sam for awhile.”
Renni blinked at me for a moment and then she looked down at her waffle. “Why?” she asked, in a soft voice.
“Because Sam is going through a few things,” I admitted, without giving too much detail. “And it’s complicated, but he needs to sort those things out first.”
“And then we can see him?”
I hesitated. “Maybe,” I said, not wanting to upset her. “But I can’t promise anything. Chances are that…we might not see him again.”
“Oh,” she said as her eyes went wide. “Did you have a fight with him?”
I gulped at the question, taken slightly unawares. I had always been proud of the fact that she was a smart and observant child, but sometimes it didn’t exactly work in my favor.
“I… No,” I said, “It wasn’t a fight… We just discussed a few things and we decided that Sam needed to work on his trouble.”
“He has trouble?”
“A little,” I nodded.
“Then shouldn’t we help him?”
It was a simple question, but I balked at it. “I don’t think we can,” I said, even though that wasn’t technically the truth.
“You’re a lawyer, Mommy,” Renni said. “You can do anything.”
I don’t know if her reference to my profession was a calculated guess on her part or if she was just making a random link. I didn’t ask her to elaborate. I just smiled.
“I can’t do anything, sweetheart,” I told her.
“Yes, you can,” she nodded. “You help people who can’t help themselves.”
I nodded, remembering the day I had explained my job to her. She was not the sort of child to forget those moments. She stored it up, kept it in her memory, and repeated it to herself until she could understand what it meant. For a moment, I thought of Clint and how insanely proud of her he would have been.
I leaned in and kissed her forehead. “It’s time to get to school, bunny,” I said. “Finish up your waffle and then we’ll head out, okay?”
Renni held my gaze for a moment before she nodded. “Okay.”
I busied myself tidying up the kitchen, and the moment Renni was finished with her breakfast, we headed out the door and to her school. She asked me about birds and about Vincent Van Gogh on the way, so I assumed she had gotten her mind off Sam somehow. I stood by the car, waving her off to school, when she turned to me with those knowing green eyes and took my hand.
“What is it, darling?” I asked, wondering if she had forgotten something.
“You should help Sam, Mommy,” she said in a soft, kind voice. “You should make things right.”
It was advice I would have expected from an adult. Not a pint-sized person who wore size three shoes. I couldn’t help but smile down at her. “I’ll think about it, sweetheart.”
“Okay,” she nodded. With a parting smile, she headed off into school with her backpack slung over both shoulders.
I waited till she had disappeared inside the building, and then I got into the car and headed towards city hall. My mind was so foggy with thoughts of the previous few days that I didn’t even realize that I was in my building, on my floor, until Peggy came up to me. She was one of the assistants who worked on our floor. She doubled as a secretary to a number of lawyers there.
“Morning, Mia,” she greeted, as I stepped off the elevator.
“Peggy,” I said, coming to a stop. “Good morning.”
“I tried calling you a couple of times.”
“Oh?” I said, checking my phone. “Shit, Peggy. I’m sorry; I had it on silent this whole time. Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” she assured me. “It’s just that there’s someone waiting to meet you. He’s been here for almost an hour. He says he won’t leave until he’s spoken to you.”
I frowned. “Did you get a name?”
“Peter,” she replied. “Peter Burbank.”
I placed the name almost immediately. It was the last name that ticked me off. This had to be one of Sam’s brothers.
I was glad Peggy had warned me – I hated walking in to unexpected situations. I straightened out my navy blue blazer and walked into my office. He was sitting in front of my desk, but his body was turned towards Helen’s desk as he spoke to her.
“Mia,” Helen said the moment she saw me. “There you are. Peter here has been waiting on you for quite some time. I’ll give you some privacy, shall I?”
She gave me a smile as she left the room, leaving Peter and me alone. He rose to his feet and approached me with one hand outstretched. He was tall, just like Sam, but he was slightly leaner and lankier. He had the same hazel eyes, differing to Sam’s by one insignificant shade, and his hair was dark and short and scantier than Sam’s. He was dressed nicely, and he cut an impressive figure standing there beside my decidedly unimpressive brown desk.
I shook his hand. “You are Sam’s brother?”
“Peter Burbank, ma’am,” he said politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Please,” I said. “You can call me Mia.”
“Mia, then,” he agreed.
“Why have you come to see me, Peter?” I asked, gesturing for him to take a seat.
“I spoke to Sam last night,” he said. “He told me that you were going to refer him to a good lawyer.”
“Yes,” I nodded. “I was going to refer him to Helen, actually.”
“She seems like a good lawyer.”
“She is,” I assured him. “Very good. And, she has much more experience than I do.”
“Is that the reason you’re not taking Sam’s case?” he asked directly.
I paused for a moment. “No,” I admitted. “That’s not the reason.”
I noticed how kind his eyes were when Peter smiled. “I’m sorry, Mia. I don’t mean to pry. The real reason I’m here is to tell you that I’ve been doing some digging all night, and I found out some things that could really help Sam’s case.”
“Oh?” I said, leaning in a little.
“I don’t know if Sam has told you, but I’m a cop.”
“He mentioned it,” I nodded.
“That gives me access to information that a civilian doesn’t always have,” Peter explained. “I managed to track down the drug ring where the illegal profits for Jackson’s Bar came from.
“A few members of the ring have been taken into custody, too, along with Jackson and Sam. And none of them have any knowledge of Sam. He was never involved in any of the dealings. Apart from his signatures on those documents, there’s no evidence that he had anything to do with the money.
“Mia… I know my brother. Sam is a straightforward kind of guy. He’s blindly trusting and insanely loyal – almost to the point of stupidity. But one thing he’s not is a thief and a criminal. I knew he didn’t have anything to do with this, but now I have more proof that he didn’t.”
I could feel the conviction of Peter’s words; by the time he had finished speaking, I realized he had convinced me of Sam’s innocence, too. The thought of Sam sitting in a jail cell overnight broke my heart. The need to help him was suddenly greater than my need for self-preservation. I knew I shouldn’t be involving myself with him, whether or not he was innocent, but I suspected that I was fighting a losing battle there.
“It still might not be enough,” I told Peter. “The prosecution will build up a good case against Sam. They’ll make it seem like Jackson handled the business end, as well as all the dealings with drug ring, while Sam was more of a behind-the-scenes partner in all this. And as you mentioned, they have his signatures on several different documents. I’m afraid blind loyalty won’t serve as a legitimate defence in a court of law.”
“I’m aware,” Peter nodded. “But it’s a start.”
“It is,” I agreed.
“Perhaps I should share this information with Helen, too?” he asked. “Considering she’s going to be representing Sam from this point on?”
I hesitated for a moment as Peter watched me expectantly. I took a deep internal breath and made my decision. “Actually, that won’t be necessary,” I told him.
“It won’t?”
“I will be representing Sam,” I said.
Peter looked at me for a moment and then smiled. “Sam will be delighted to hear it. Thank you, Mia,” he said, reaching out to shake my hand again.
“Of course,” I nodded.
“You know… I’ve known Sam his entire life,” Peter said. “He’s not someone who pays too much attention to other people’s opinions of him.
“But the only thing he seemed to really care about last night when I visited him was your opinion of him. He wanted you to know – to believe that he was innocent. He didn’t mention anything about getting him out of jail. He just mentioned…you. I think you’ve become an important part of his life, and I don’t think he wants to lose you.”
I stared at Peter for a moment, taking some time to process his words. “Is that the real reason you came down here?” I asked directly.
He smiled. His hazel eyes struck me, reminding me a little too much of Sam’s. “I suppose it is,” he admitted. “Thank you for seeing me, Mia.”
Then he turned and walked out the door, leaving me with a new spasm of unwelcome hope. I tried to squelch it out, but it just refused to go.