The Tolling of Mercedes Bell: A Novel Read Online Free Page A

past the life of their romance. Things had turned sour, then bitter. He absconded with her inheritance, a small fortune, then joined the People’s Temple in San Francisco, led by the infamous Reverend Jim Jones.
    A few months later, Emily met Mr. Dailey at a wedding. He took an interest in her story. He assured her that he could track down Jason and recover her assets, so she hired him.
    Within the year, Jim Jones had led his followers on their ill-fated exodus to Guyana. Emily believed that Jason was among them and had taken part in the mass suicide. She’d never heard from him again or been able to find him, and all her money was gone.
    Emily asserted that Mr. Dailey had not investigated the facts or filed a lawsuit, as he promised he would. She had called his office repeatedly, with no response, and now the statute of limitations had passed. She was distraught—first robbed by her boyfriend, then deceived by her lawyer.
    She’d given up hope of restitution until she met Mr. Soutane. He convinced her that she might still be able to recover everything from an insurance carrier, assuming that her previous attorney had malpracticecoverage. He promptly hired a private investigator, then filed suit against Dailey.
    By Emily’s account, everyone who betrayed her got away with it. She wanted remuneration for her lost inheritance, for Dailey’s negligence, and for emotional distress.
    Mercedes could see that she was genuinely distressed. Her moon-shaped face was badly scarred from adolescent acne, which she tried to conceal with heavy makeup. Thick black mascara was caked onto her eyelashes and her plucked eyebrows had been weirdly redrawn with reddish eyebrow pencil. It was as if Emily wore a mask. Her eyes jumped around during questioning to avoid contact with anyone except her lawyer. She gripped a cheap patent-leather handbag in her lap under the table, nervously opening and closing the clasp as she testified.
    “When you said you were incapacitated, Ms. Fredericks, what exactly did you mean by that?” Darrel inquired. He sat forward in his chair and tilted his head slightly.
    “I mean that, after all that happened between me and Jason, I was not in very good shape when I met Mr. Dailey.”
    “What do you mean by ‘not in very good shape’?”
    “I was having a lot of trouble coping, getting through the day. Jason had been very abusive. After he left, I came unglued.”
    “Could you please describe the abuse?”
    Soutane asked for a moment off the record and whispered to her. She nodded and looked back at Darrel.
    “We used to fight a lot. He always had to be the boss. He got mad real easy and called me horrible names. He also hit me.”
    Mercedes looked under the table to see Emily let go of the handbag and grip the edge of her seat.
    “How many times did Jason hit you?”
    “Twice—he hit me twice.” Emily dug her nails into the cording on the chair cushion.
    “Can you describe those incidents for us?”
    She mentioned two exchanges in which Jason had slapped her and forced her down into a chair during an argument. He had never broken her skin, but she had felt terrified. Mercedes watched Emily’s hands clinging to the chair. Her knuckles whitened, though she carried on with a steady voice.
    “Did anyone ever slap you before these incidents?”
    “No.”
    “Did anyone ever push you down in a chair before these incidents?”
    “No.”
    “Were you afraid that Jason would do this again?”
    “I don’t know. I suppose so.”
    “Is there any history of violence in your family?”
    Soutane objected and instructed his client not to answer.
    “Jack, your client is claiming emotional distress damages. I think we have a right to know her background and history in this area.”
    “Yes, Darrel, but that doesn’t entitle you to ask about every unpleasant experience she’s had in her life,” he replied flatly.
    “Agreed, nor have I done so,” Darrel snapped. Emily released her grip on the chair.
    “Are