Swimsuit - James Patterson [31]
Cahill was flanked by two lawyers, one of whom I recognized. Amos Brock was dapper in his pearl gray suit, a New York criminal defense attorney with a history of representing celebrities and sports stars who’d gone too far over to the dark side. Brock had turned into a star himself, and now he was defending Doug Cahill.
Station KITV had cameras trained on Cahill and Brock. Brock stepped to the microphone, said, “My client, Doug Cahill, hasn’t been charged with anything. The accusations against him are preposterous. There’s not a speck of evidence to support any of the allegations that have been going around, which is why my client hasn’t been charged. Doug wants to speak publicly, this one and only time.”
I grabbed the phone, woke Levon out of what sounded like a deep sleep. “Levon. It’s Ben. Turn on the TV. Channel four. Hurry.”
I stayed on with Levon as Cahill stood front and center. He was unshaven, wearing a blue cotton button-down shirt under a well-cut sports jacket. Without the pads and the uniform, he looked relatively tame, like a kid in a Wall Street management training program.
“I came to Maui to see Kim,” Doug said, his voice shaking, thick with the tears that were also wetting his cheeks. “I saw her for about ten minutes three days ago and never saw her after that. I didn’t hurt her. I love Kim, and I’m staying here until we find her.”
Cahill handed the mic back to Brock: “To repeat, Doug had nothing to do with Kim’s disappearance, and I will absolutely, unequivocally bring action against anyone who defames him. That’s all we have to say for the moment. Thank you.”
Levon said to me, “What do you make of that? The lawyer? Doug?”
“Doug was pretty convincing,” I said. “Either he loves her. Or he’s a very good liar.”
I had another thought, one I didn’t share with Levon. Those seven hundred words I’d just sent to Aronstein at the Times?
They were old news.
Chapter 39
I E-MAILED MY EDITOR, told him that Doug Cahill was going to be chum for the media feeding frenzy and why: that a mystery witness had seen him coming on strong with Kim, and that Cahill was being represented by Amos Brock, the current champion bully of defense attorneys.
“Here’s an updated version of my article,” I wrote Aronstein. “If nothing else, I’m fast.”
And then I called our sports chief, Sam Paulson. He keeps odd hours, and I knew he’d be up.
Paulson likes me, but he doesn’t trust anyone. I said, “Look, Sam, I need to know what kind of person Doug Cahill is. My story isn’t going to mess with yours.”
It was a wrestling match that went on for fifteen minutes, Sam Paulson protecting his position as the sports world’s premiere “in” guy, while I tried to get something out of Paulson that would tell me if Cahill was dangerous off the playing field.
At last Sam gave me a tantalizing lead.
“There’s a PR girl. I got her a job working for the Bears. Hawkins, I’m not kidding. This is off the record. This girl’s a friend of mine.”
“I understand.”
“Cahill got this girl pregnant a couple months back. She’s told her mother about the baby. She also told Cahill and me. She’s giving Cahill a chance to do the right thing. Whatever the hell that might be.”
“He was dating Kim when this happened with the other woman? You’re certain?”
“Yep.”
“Does he have any history of violence?”
“They all do. Sure. Bar fights. One zesty one when he played at Notre Dame. Crap like that.”
“Thanks, Sam.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said back. “I mean really. Don’t mention it.”
I sat on this bombshell for a few minutes, thinking through what this meant. If Kim knew Cahill had cheated on her, that was reason enough for her to dump him. If he wanted her back, if he was desperate, a confrontation could have led to something physical that might have gotten out of hand.
I called Levon. And I was startled by his reaction.
“Doug is a testosterone machine,” he told me. “Kim said he was strong-willed, and we all know he was a killer on the field. How do we know what he’s capable of doing? Barb still believes in him, but as for me, I’m starting to