Chapter 3

                                            New York’s Favorite Daughter Returns!

                                                                By: Judy Budd

Catherine Van Dyke, along with her family, graced The New York Country Club with her presence during The Ladybirds’ Summer Charity Gala. For a woman who got dropped for a journalistic nobody, Catherine looked well. Party goers thought they were going to get a scene to gossip about for months to come when the entire Hudson clan arrived. They haven’t attended a Ladybirds’ event in six months. The dining room was a flutter with whispers and discrete staring.

It’s rumored that Catherine and Beverly Balsom-Hudson had a quick, yet civilized exchange in the ladies’ room. What was said? Unfortunately, this reporter couldn’t find out. But it appeared that both ladies left the restroom unscathed and in calm moods.

In a few days, the Townsend homicide trial will begin. From what this reporter saw last night, Catherine is ready, willing, and able to defend her client. To those who have forgotten, Cameron Townsend, heir to Townsend Foods, was charged with murdering his pregnant wife, Kelly Townsend. He is out on five-million-dollar bail – one of the highest in New York’s history. Since Townsend’s arrest, he has not been seen at any society events – the ones he’s still invited to.

            Catherine walked to the front door of the Townsend mansion and rang the doorbell. Then she ended up ringing it again. Surely, Cameron hadn’t forgotten the appointment. They were going to go over what was going to happen tomorrow – their first day in court. Eight times out of ten, Catherine would meet with her clients in her office. But when the cases were a big deal with a big retainer, Catherine gave those clients more personal attention - like meeting them at their homes or over lunch.

            The door slowly opened.

            Cameron stood at five foot seven, Catherine’s height with heels on.  His dark hair was parted on the side. His hair was pretty light looking like it had been blown dried.

            “Hi, Catherine,” Cameron greeted. “Come in.”

            Catherine crossed the threshold. “Where’s your butler?”

            Cameron’s laughter had a tone of irony in it. “He quit along with the rest of the household staff almost two months ago.” He closed the large iron door.

            “Really?” she blurted in a high-pitched tone.

            “Yes, really. When my parents brought me home after I got out on bail, the butler was gone along with the maid, the chef, the driver, and the two grounds men.”

            “Why?”

            “I’ve been charged with killing my pregnant wife. I guess they didn’t want to work for a murderer. That’s my theory anyway. They didn’t even leave resignation letters.  They all disappeared as if they were puffs of smoke.”

            They began walking.

            “Haven’t they heard of innocent until proven guilty?” Catherine asked, appalled.

            “I guess in their case they didn’t want to take any chances,” Cameron said with a shrug. “Who knows, I might lose it again over the chef burning the pudding and stab stab, you know.”

            “Don’t even joke like that. You didn’t kill Kelly – or your baby.”

            “Catherine, I think you might be the only one who believes that – other than my family.”

            “And all of New York will believe it – no. All of New York will know it by the time I’m through.”

            Cameron lightly scoffed.

            They entered the den. A large off-white marbled faced fireplace was the centerpiece of the room. A large horizontal mirror hung over the mantle with a gold frame. Two light peached colored winged armchairs were in front of the fireplace facing outward to an ivory colored sofa. The coffee table was thick and white with a glass center. The lamps had peach shades that matched the armchairs. The carpet was a dark-peach. Catherine assumed Kelly had decorated the room. The colors were a tad feminine for a man.

            “You doubt me?”

            “I don’t mean to, Catherine. I know you are one of the best trial lawyers in the tri-state area. That’s why I hired you. But it looks grave. Drink?”

            “Make it non-alcoholic.” She didn’t drink when she was working. “And, yes, it looks grave, but not hopeless.”

            Cameron walked over to the cream-colored minibar. “Is club soda all right?”

            “It’s fine.”

            Cameron began fixing her beverage. “Has the PI you hired found anything?”

            He had found quite a bit. The problem was she didn’t want to tell Cameron what he had found until it was time for the PI and the person he found to testify. She didn’t want to burden his mind with any more bad news now.

            “Not yet, but he is getting close to something.”

            “Which is?”

            “He wouldn’t tell me. He didn’t want to get my hopes up quite yet he had said,” she lied. She didn’t like lying, but found it necessary when sparing someone’s feelings.

            Cameron approached her with a glass filled with ice and club soda in one hand and what she assumed was gin or vodka in the other.

            “Thank you,” she said as she took the drink. “Now, sit down and let’s go over this.  I have to meet another client at four.”

            Cameron dipped down on the foot stool that was across from the couch she was on. She couldn’t understand why he always took the opportunity to perch himself in the most unorthodox ways sometimes.

            “All right, Catherine lay it on me.”

            Catherine began by telling him what she planned to say in her opening statement. Then she followed that with the witness list the prosecution was expected to call to testify.

            “I can’t believe they can call a bitter ex-girlfriend to testify against me. But then again, knowing her, she probably volunteered,” Cameron said ruefully.

            “Unfortunately, they can subpoena whoever they think will win their case.” Catherine continued going over what she had excepted to happen in court.

            “One more thing. I want you to reconsider putting me on the stand,” Cameron said.

            Catherine shook her head.  “Depending on how things are looking, depends on if you testify on your own behalf.”

            “Why wait and see?”

            Because you’re too emotional under stress right now and I’m not sure if you’ll be able to keep calm on the stand.

            “We only get one shot at you testifying, Cameron. We need to proceed with caution when it comes to that.”

            “All right. We’ll do it your way – for now.” He took a sip of his drink. “Now that we have business out of the way. Take my mind off my problems by telling me yours. I saw in the society pages the other day you had attended the last boring Ladybirds gala for the summer.”

            “Yes, I did.”

            “So, was it true? What Judy Budd wrote?”

            “Yes. I went to the charity gala with my family and had a good time,” she answered and began sticking papers back in her soft brown briefcase.

            Cameron rolled his eyes. “You know that’s not what I mean. Did you and Beverly Balsom – I mean Hudson have a face off in the bathroom?”

            “If you can keep a secret –”

            “I can.”

            “It wasn’t a face off. It was a brief exchange. It wasn’t . . . dramatic.”

            They were quiet for a moment.

            Catherine finished piling papers in her case and turned to look at Cameron who was eyeing her with irritation. “Are you going to tell me what was said or are you going to let me languish with curiosity?”

            She suppressed a smirk. “Let you languish.”

            Cameron leaned back on the footstool. He put his hand on his chest, feigning offense. “Catherine, I can’t believe you don’t trust me.”

            She chuckled.

            “Come on. First, you’re the only person that still talks to me other than my family. Second, I’ve always wanted to know what you ladies do in the restroom. You constantly go in pairs or groups and spend longer in there than what’s needed. Obviously, conversations take place in there.”

            “All right.” Catherine told Cameron the details of what had happened.

            “Catherine,” he said with smirk. “You actually smiled in her face?”

            “I did. I couldn’t help it. The guilt she is carrying is better than me lashing out at her. Plus, the guilt will last longer – especially since I wouldn’t take the bait of her encouraging me to lash out at her.”

            “I can see your point, but if you did lash out at her no one would have blamed you. But, I’m glad you didn’t hit her. The last thing I need is my lawyer in jail for assault,” he joked.

            “Most definitely. It would look badly on me as an officer of the court to get into a physical altercation.”

            “For what it’s worth, Catherine, Hudson is a fool – and an overgrown bully.

            “Bully?” During the past two months she has heard Bruce be called quit a few things in her presence but not a bully.

            “Yes. From what I understand the man speaks to his help like a drill sergeant. He talks to them like that because they are in no position to fight back. Domestic workers in households are desperate to keep their jobs because they get paid better from a private employer than an agency – unless the employer is on trial for murder. In that case, domestics run for the hills,” he said with irony. “Number two, he’s rude and grumpy. I don’t understand what any woman sees in him.”

            “Wait a minute,” Catherine began. “Bruce can come off a little stern, but he means well.”

            “How can you defend him?”

            She sighed. “Yes, he . . . hurt me very badly. I don’t know if I’ll ever truly forgive him – or Beverly, but he’s not a bully – nor a fool. He just . . . made a mistake.”

            Cameron stared at her for a moment. “Are you still in love with him?” He was the first person who has asked her that.

            Catherine was becoming uncomfortable with the conversation. Before he hired her to defend him, they were only acquaintances – not friends. She stood so abruptly that Cameron leaned back with a look of surprise on his face. “I should go. I need to go over some paper work before I meet my next client.” It wasn’t a lie, but she had plenty of time before she had to meet her next client.

            “I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable,” Cameron said as he rose. “Like I said before, I get sick of dealing with my own problems and look for any escape these days. It’s really none of my business how you feel about Hudson.”

            “I . . . appreciate it.” She felt a little embarrassed. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was because she still had feelings for Bruce.

            Cameron leaned his head to the side like he was examining her. “Are you – I didn’t mean to embarrass you either.”

            It was like he was reading her mind. No. That was ridiculous. Her feelings must have shown on her face. The breakup had thrown her off kilter. Catherine could normally hide her true emotions.  Feeling more uncomfortable than before, she thought it was best to bid her client adieu. “Get plenty of rest tonight. We can’t have you falling asleep at the defense table. Goodbye, Cameron.” She grabbed her brown case and quickly headed to the door.

            “Goodbye,” he mumbled.