Authors: Sarah Castille
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica, #Contemporary, #Suspense, #Legal Heat#1
Katy walked down the sidewalk and peered in the open window. “I need to talk to you and I couldn’t get through on any of your numbers.”
Martha shrugged. “I had them all cancelled. I’m leaving town.”
“What about the case?”
Martha’s bitter laughter took Katy by surprise. “The case? Are you serious? You were shot. Martin is dead. I read in the paper that one of the men on the list, McIntyre, was killed. I appreciate your dedication to the case, but come on. It’s not worth it. At least not to me.”
“But…we’re so close to finding out the real reason behind your dismissal and what happened to those men.”
With an exasperated sigh, Martha pushed open the door. “Get in. It’s dangerous out there, even with your police tail parked a block back.”
Katy slid into the black leather seat. “Where are we going?”
Martha peeled the car away from the curb. “Nowhere. You want to talk, then talk. You have ten minutes before I head out of the city. I’ll amuse myself by trying to lose your escort.”
Katy tightened her grip on her briefcase as Martha shot through a stop sign. “Did Steele visit you today?”
“I haven’t been home,” Martha said. “I knew Steele would come looking for me. He’s not the only one. I’ve got Jimmy’s friends on my tail and I’ve got a scary psycho cop riding my ass because of my relationship with Jimmy. I just came by to see if it was safe to pick up the last of my stuff.”
Katy stifled a gasp. “I didn’t know you were with Jimmy. When you said he recommended the firm, I thought he was just a friend or an acquaintance. I heard what happened to him. I’m really sorry. No wonder you want to get away.”
Martha’s face tightened. She took a sharp corner and headed west on Fourth Avenue. “Yeah, well he knew what he was getting himself into when he started dealing again. He wasn’t a…good guy, if you know what I mean. He stole from me, cheated on me and used me. I should have left him at the beginning, but when we were together, it was so good. He told me…he loved me.”
Katy gave her a sympathetic smile. “I know what it’s like to have your partner cheat on you. My ex had so many affairs I lost count. Each one hurt more than the last. But I didn’t leave. We had two children and I didn’t want them to grow up in a single-parent family. It wasn’t until I finally got the divorce that I realized what a mistake I had made. He never really loved me. You don’t hurt the people you love. Like you, I wish I’d left him sooner.”
“Maybe you loved him.” Tears slid down Martha’s plump, rosy cheeks and she dabbed at them with a tissue.
Katy swallowed. “Maybe I thought I did. But now I know what real love is, and that wasn’t it. Not even close.”
Martha pulled into the parking lot at Jericho Beach. For a few long moments they sat and watched the container ships and freighters sailing into Burrard Inlet.
“You’ve been really great,” Martha said. Her eyes fixed on the beach in front of them and she took a deep breath. “Better than I ever expected a lawyer to be. You went out of your way. You put your life on the line. You’re a good person. Maybe the regulators will listen to you.”
She pulled a baggie from her purse and handed it to Katy.
“What is it?”
“The key to Martin’s desk in the lab. He gave it to me when he gave me the list. His journals are in the bottom drawer. I’m pretty sure no one will have found them because the desk is used for storage. You’ll be able to bring Steele down with the information in those journals. Hi-Tech too.”
Katy’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“You would have had to disclose the existence of the key to Hi-Tech. Isn’t that how the discovery process works?”
“Yes that’s true. But we could have requested copies of the journals.”
A bitter laugh escaped Martha’s lips. “You have no idea how companies like Hi-Tech work. Those journals would have disappeared the minute they knew they existed.”
“Why now? If you’re leaving, it doesn’t matter if it benefits your case.”
Martha’s faced tightened. “Martin died for those journals. He was a good friend to me and I betrayed him in the worst way. I want Steele to pay. I want Martin’s death to mean something.”
Katy offered the baggie back to Martha. “I don’t think…”
Martha waved her hand away. “Please. Take it. Bring Steele down before anyone else gets hurt.”
Claire.
Mark stared at the photograph on the credenza beside Steele’s desk. The eight-by-ten glossy had to have been taken after Claire left. Her long hair had been cut—no, hacked—into a short bob and she was pale and drawn. So unlike the bubbly vivacious girl he had met on the day he and Tony had opened Carpe Noctem.
She was standing at the bow of a motor-yacht, holding up a bottle of champagne. Claire loved champagne, but she wasn’t smiling in the picture. Not a real smile. Not a smile from her heart.
She wasn’t smiling in any of the pictures. So many pictures. So much unhappiness. No wonder Steele had never invited him to his office. The credenza was like a shrine. To Claire.
His Claire.
How long had she and Steele been together? Had Steele been there when she died, or had she really overdosed alone in the East Side alley where the police had found her body?
“You’re an hour early.” Steele leaned back in his cream leather chair as Mark made a quick visual sweep of the office for more photos. Three times the size of Mark’s corner office, Steele’s sanctuary at Hi-Tech’s head office on Broadway, was a tribute to corporate minimalism. Big glass desk. Glass credenza. Meeting table with four black chairs. Wall-mounted flat screen television. Cream leather couch. Bar in the corner. No clutter. No books. A few papers on the desk. It could have been a show suite.
“I need to speak to you before Katy gets here with the settlement agreement. I thought we could work something out.”
Steele shrugged. “There’s nothing to work out, unless of course she didn’t get the agreement signed, which may be a possibility because Saunders wasn’t home when I called.”
Mark gritted his teeth. “If she doesn’t get it signed, I want to offer—”
Steele cut him off with a bark of laughter. “There’s nothing you have that I want. Nothing you could offer me to change my mind. If she doesn’t bring me the signed agreement, let’s just say I haven’t made up my mind whether reporting the conduct of two scheming, disreputable lawyers to the Law Society is enough to make up for your betrayal.”
Mark’s heart skipped a beat. “You wouldn’t—”
“But if she does get a signature,” Steele continued, “then the case settles, everyone goes home happy and we all keep our secrets. I’m good at keeping secrets. From the look on your face when you walked in, I take it you never knew about me and Claire.”
Mark gritted his teeth. “What did you do to her?”
Steele gave him an amused glance. “Nothing she didn’t want me to do. Everything a man does with his woman.” He leaned forward, his eyes glittering. “And all the things you wouldn’t do.”
With a roar, Mark lunged over the desk and grabbed Steele’s shoulders. But Steele’s seated position and heavy frame made him awkward to move. He pushed his chair back, forcing Mark to release him.
Mark staggered back. The wire in his ear shifted and he put his hand up to readjust it. Had James heard the conversation?
“I deserved that,” Steele said, pulling his chair back to his desk. “I should have told you I was with her, but I knew you wouldn’t continue to represent me, and despite all your faults, you’re a damn good lawyer.”
Mark grunted and tried to clear the red haze from his vision.
“I still miss her,” Steele said wistfully. “I cared about her a great deal.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Mark snarled. “If you cared about her, you would have pulled her out of the drug scene. You must have known she had an addictive personality.” Drugs, sex, smoking, coffee. Claire never did anything in half measures.
Steele shrugged. “She made her own choices. They were just the wrong ones. Except, of course, when she came knocking at my door. She knew life was precious. Too precious to be wasted on someone who didn’t love her. She was my kind of girl. I told her that the first time you introduced us, and I let her know my door was always open.”
Mark clenched his fists. If not for the wire, and the need to get the evidence to implicate Steele, his hands would already be around Steele’s throat.
Steele looked over at the credenza and sighed. “But you didn’t come here to talk about Claire. You came to save your kitty. Unfortunately I need that agreement signed tonight. The product launch is on Monday and I don’t want anything to detract from the revolution I’m about to unleash on the world. Hi-Tech has to be the epitome of a well-run, transparent, charitable company that treats its employees well and its shareholders even better.”
Mark swallowed. If he could keep Steele talking, he might be able to uncover the evidence James needed to make an arrest.
“She should be here shortly,” he said. “Why don’t we have a drink while we wait?”
Steele raised a brow but pushed back his chair and walked over to the bar. “Attack me one minute and drink with me the next. I can’t keep up.” He poured two shots of whiskey and handed one to Mark.
He took the tumbler Steele offered. “Maybe I know which fights are worth fighting.”
“Maybe you do. Maybe that’s why you let Claire go.”
Mark swallowed his anger and tried to redirect the conversation.
“So what is the revolutionary wonder drug?”
“We’re close enough to the launch that I can tell you,” Steele said. He perched one hip on the bar and sipped his bourbon. “It’s called Libidex and it has made it through all the proper regulatory channels. Everything has been documented, stamped and approved.”
“Libidex?”
“Drug of the century. Ostensibly it’ll be for erectile dysfunction, but in reality, it increases libido and improves sexual performance ten times better than the leading competitors. Basically it’s a sex drug. We expect its recreational use to far outstrip any legitimate medical application. In our trials, men were able to go all night without even the slightest diminishment in performance.”
Mark wished James would make a sound. Cough. Hiss. Whisper. Anything to let him know the wire was still working. He tasted his bourbon, waiting for a signal. He had never liked bourbon. The smooth, sweet taste of smoky oak and molasses reminded him of burnt toast and honey, the only breakfast his mother had ever made.
No sound. Not even a crackle. He couldn’t wait any longer. He gave Steele an appreciative nod. “Impressive. What about side effects?”
“It has a few kinks,” Steele said. “Nothing we can’t handle.”
Mark looked out over Burrard Inlet. Clouds had gathered over the mountains on the North Shore sending wispy fingers of rain down to the city below. “Did you work them out in clinical trials?” He kept his voice light and casual, although inside his pulse raced.
Steele narrowed his eyes. “When a drug is as important as this one, we pull out all the stops to ensure the clinical trials go smoothly and the regulators get the…assurances they need.”
Damn. Not even close.
Steele checked his watch. “Your kitty should be here in about forty-five minutes and I have some business to attend to before she arrives. I’ll send Gordon in to keep you company.”
Double damn
. Steele wasn’t taking any chances. He was clearly suspicious of Mark’s motives for arriving early. So much for his plan to sneak away and take a quick look around. With Gordon in the room, he wouldn’t be going anywhere.
And when Katy arrived, neither would she.
Katy typed her name on her letter of resignation and sent it to the printer. Thank God no one was in the office tonight. She could leave it on Ted’s desk and disappear. After all the partners had done for her, she didn’t want to damage the reputation of the firm, or drag them into a scandal. Once Steele made his call to the Law Society, all hell would break loose.
But more than that, she didn’t want to stay. Ted’s bargain with Mark was as much a betrayal by him. Even if he let her stay, she knew she would never forgive him.
She retrieved the letter from the printer and signed her name on the firm letterhead for the last time.
Katherine Sinclair
. Not Hughes. She had never taken Steven’s last name, much to his annoyance. Maybe the next time she signed a professional letter her name would be at the top. Wouldn’t that be something? Run her own firm. Be her own boss. Answer to no one.
She dropped the letter on Ted’s desk and returned to her office to pack up her boxes. Not much personal stuff. Pictures of the kids, law books, the pen Ted had given her when she had won her first trial. Her legal files had all been transferred to colleagues when she had been in the hospital so there was no reason for Ted to hold to her to her notice period. Not that he would. Ted hated notice periods. He had paid off every departing employee to avoid having them linger around the office.
Only one file remained on her desk. Saunders v. Hi-Tech.
She picked up the file and took it down the hall to Ted’s office. Just before she reached Ted’s door a white card slid out and fell onto the carpet. Her access pass to Hi-Tech. She must have forgotten to return it on her way out of the document review this morning.