Blood Relations by Barbara Parker Page B

showing him what a civil trial practice was all about. All as a favor for Sam’s wife. Dina Hagen had come to him privately, had told him they were having money problems. Then she mentioned that incident in Vietnam, as if Frank owed Sam for something that had ha pened when they’d been kids. He could see Sam brag . p ging to Dina about saving Frank Tolin’s hide. An embarrassment then, more so now.
    Sam Hagen lacked the drive for personal injury work, so he’d gone back to the state attorney’s office.
    Then a few months later he started fooling around with Caidin. Frank had been so torn up he’d had fantasies about getting out his shotgun and blowing them both to hell. He stayed drunk for a week instead, dosing himself on uppers to get to the office. Then Caitlin came back, as she always did.
    Now Frank had reason to think she had seen Sam Hagen again. He dropped his feet to the floor and stood up.
    His boots echoed on the concrete.
    Caitlin was dusting off her telephoto lens, putting it back in its case. He went over and lifted her ponytail, and tickled her neck with his mustache. Smiling, she turned around and kissed him. This one was better.
    After a while he drew back far enough to see her face clearly. “I heard the state attorney’s office is investigating that rape you saw at the Apocalypse.”
    “Oh?”
    “Marty Cassie told me.” Frank wound a loose strand of her hair around his finger.
    “Yes, I heard the same thing,” Caitlin said.
    “You didn’t tell me.” He tugged on the strand of hair.
    “Ouch.” Wincing, she pulled it out of his grasp. “I just found out, Frank. Just this morning.”
    “Have you talked to Sam Hagen about it?”
    “Sam Hagen? No. Why?”
    “He’s the prosecutor in charge. You didn’t know?”
    Frank locked his hands behind her waist and pulled her up against him.
    I do know that, yes.”
    “Marty says Hagen is talking to witnesses. You’re a witness. You haven’t talked to him?”
    “No. I said I hadn’t.” Those big green eyes of hers could convey such innocence. “There were other witnesses, better than U’ She slipped out of his arms to latch the case on her telephoto. “The best witness told me this morning that he has already given a statement. Maybe I won’t have to.”
    He was curious. “What witness?”
    She went around a divider that separated kitchen area from studio to put the camera away. He heard her voice.
    “Sullivan. Charlie Sullivan. I told you he was there that night.”
    “Oh, yeah. Superstud.”
    There was silence; then Caitlin said, “If this gets to trial-”
    Frank waited, then asked, “If this gets to trial? What, sweetheart?”
    She reappeared. “I don’t care about Sullivan, believe me, but if he testifies-” Caitlin turned her green eyes on Frank. “You know about trials, how nasty they can get.
    This one, particularly. Reporters and private investigators rooting around for anything the slightest bit juicy.”
    “Like what, Catie?” Her affair with Sam Hagen would be a juicy bit for a defense attorney to discover.
    She said, “Like the prime witness being involved with the prosecutor’s son.”
    Frank stared at her. “Give me that again?”
    “Charlie Sullivan seduced Matthew.” Caitlin took his hands. “Please, Frank. Swear you’ll never mention this to anyone.”
    “Matthew?”
    “Yes, Matthew. You must have met him.
    “Sure, once or twice, when Sam brought him around to the office. I don’t remember him very well.” Caitlin gripped his hands tighter, and he said, “No, I won’t tell anyone.”
    She let him go. “Sullivan wouldn’t deny it, if anyone asked him. It’s nothing to him, but Klaus Ruffini’s defense attorney would love to use that information.
    “How did you find out?”
    “Matthew and I worked together. I did the photos for his book. We got to know each other, and I more or less picked up on what was going on with him. He was only nineteen, and he was so trusting. Oh, God, Frank. You