Nothing But the Truth (12 page)

Brett cleared her throat, and Ryan nodded for her to speak. “Thanks for talking to me. I’m not sure we needed this much privacy, but it’s nice to see where you work. You certainly have an amazing view.”

Ryan shrugged and made an attempt at modesty. “I don’t get a lot of opportunity to enjoy the view, but I have to agree, it’s amazing.” She stared at Brett seated across from her. She didn’t seem sure how to begin whatever it was she wanted to discuss. Even seated, it was apparent Brett Logan was a tall woman. Her torso was as long and lean as the rest of her body. Today she was wearing trial clothes, a black suit with crisp lines. Her only nod to fashion over function was a soft white silk shirt with an oversized collar and a freshwater pearl necklace. Not a stain in sight. Ryan couldn’t resist a comment. “You look very polished today.”

Brett glanced down and pointed at her blouse. “Give me a few minutes and a cup of coffee. You’ll be certain to change your mind. My clothes and my meals have a magnetic attraction to each other. I’m helpless to resist.”

Ryan smiled. She couldn’t help herself. Brett’s self-deprecating humor was only one of her attractive qualities. Brett matched her smile with a huge grin. Perfect teeth, twinkling eyes. She didn’t look like someone with something pressing to discuss. Ryan wondered what this meeting was about, so she decided to restore formality and get to the point. “Okay, Ms. Logan, what do you need today?”

Brett seemed to ignore the change in tone, her smile still showing. “Call me Brett. And thanks for taking the time. I know you’re busy. I want to talk to you about the Edwards case.”

Ryan’s smile disappeared. She was instantly suspicious, though she couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason. But the hair on the back of her neck stood at attention and her stomach started to churn. Was Ross Edwards changing attorneys? He had already been represented by the public defender’s office before mysteriously coming into the funds to post bond and hire Luke Tyson, a standard around the courthouse. Ryan had no fear of Tyson. He represented a ton of defendants with no regard or worry for the varying degrees of difficulty required by each individual case. He had a reputation as a winner, but the reputation was bigger than the man. He would do a good enough job to foreclose any claims of ineffective assistance, but he wouldn’t mount a stellar defense.

Brett Logan, on the other hand, was a different story. Based on what Ryan had witnessed that morning, she was concerned. Brett was well prepared and quick on her feet. Jurors would love her easy smile and good looks. Ryan was confident justice would prevail, but taking Brett down would have to be part of the strategy. She usually relished such a prospect, but she found herself dreading it already. She decided to meet the challenge head-on.

“Talk away.”

“I may represent a person of interest in the case.”

Ryan paused to consider what she decided was Brett’s purposely vague choice of words. Did she represent Ross or not? Ross Edwards was certainly a person of interest, but Brett used the term like the feds did, referring to someone who might be a conspirator, but not the center of the action. She wanted to ask her questions directly, but she wasn’t ready to cede her power away, so she merely nodded to indicate Brett should continue.

“Before I talk to you more about this person, I wanted to know if you would let me review the police report or at least fill me in on some of the pertinent facts.” Brett knew her request was unusual, but it wasn’t unheard of. She wasn’t asking for state secrets, after all. She knew plenty of other prosecutors who would have no problem sharing this bare bones information with her. Brett had carefully cultivated a reputation for honor and integrity, and she enjoyed the benefits of information that came with it. Obviously, the DA’s office was holding back details about this case or Brett would have read more during her online searches than the mere facts that Mary Dinelli was dead and Ross Edwards had been arrested and charged with theft and murder. She figured if she could at least get a glimpse at the official report, she might be able to figure out how Kenneth fit in and why his involvement had been missed.

Ryan’s first instinct was to escort Brett to the door. She didn’t have any obligation to share information about their investigation with an attorney who wasn’t officially on the case. She didn’t even have to share all of it with Luke Tyson until certain statutorily required deadlines were in play. She hesitated. “Are you signing on this case?”

Brett hedged. “Maybe.”

“If you’re replacing Tyson, I’m going to need to see an order substituting counsel before I’ll talk to you about the case.” Ryan pulled a stack of files on her desk closer as if that concluded the matter. She barely gave the papers a glance while she waited for Brett’s response.

“I’m not representing Ross Edwards.”

“Then you don’t have any grounds to request discovery.”

Brett shook her head. “Ryan, I’m not asking for formal discovery here. I may have an interest in this case, and I’ll be happy to share specifics at the appropriate time. You can help me determine the appropriate time more easily by sharing the police report with me.” She offered a conciliatory tone. “Come on. I give you my word. I won’t share any information you give me with anyone.”

“Do the prosecutors in my division usually give you what you want?” Ryan tried not to make the question sound accusatory, but she feared it did. Apparently, Brett Logan was used to getting what she wanted, despite policies Ryan herself had set in place. She watched the pieces of realization shuffle into place on Brett’s face. If she said no, then how could she expect to get the information she requested now? If Brett said yes, then she risked getting those very prosecutors that helped her out in trouble, thereby drying up her sources. Ryan wanted to know which path she would choose.

“I don’t make it a habit to take advantage of favors.”

Diplomatic. Ryan liked Brett’s response. “A bit odd seeking favors from me, don’t you think?” Brett cocked a questioning eyebrow to which Ryan responded. “We hardly know each other. I don’t owe you anything.”

“Nor I you.” Brett thought she detected a slightly flirtatious tone. She wondered about the source. She was at a loss as to how to respond, and she finally settled on the idea of floating an offer with a slight flirt of her own. “But you never know when the situation might change.”

Ryan shifted in her seat. The undercurrent between them was making her feel uncomfortable even as she was drawn toward Brett. Time to change the subject. “Who’s the person of interest?”

It was Brett’s turn to shift in her seat. “I’m not prepared to say.”

“Yet you expect me to hand over evidence. Evidence we haven’t shared with anyone outside of the lawyers who have actually entered an appearance on this case.”

Brett offered one last overture in her attempt to get a glimpse at the police report. “I understand why you haven’t shared any information. Nothing you show me will go any further. I realize you don’t know me, but you can check around. My reputation is solid.”

“No need. When you’re ready to tell me about your person of interest, I’ll make a decision about what, if anything, I’ll share with you.”

Brett stood, signaling she was done trying. Ryan felt the chill of her absence before Brett crossed the threshold. She knew her lack of cooperation hastened Brett’s departure, but she couldn’t see her way clear to giving her what she wanted. Her attraction to Brett gnawed at the edges of her professional demeanor, but she had given in as much as she would. Attraction wasn’t an appropriate motive for breaking rules.

 “Hey, T, what time are the Phillipses coming in?” Brett breezed by Tony’s desk, grabbing a handful of French fries from the lunch spread out on wax paper on his credenza. “Yum, these are good. Where did you get them?”

“I haven’t a clue and Hunky’s.”

“They’re pretty good for to-go fries.” Brett stopped mid-fry. “Did you call the Phillipses?” Brett had called Tony before she left the courthouse and left him a cryptic voice mail. She asked him to call the Phillipses and arrange another meeting with Kenneth. She didn’t take the time to explain that Judge Langston had appointed her to the case, and she worried he might have conveniently ignored her request without that knowledge.

“What do you mean, did I call Mr. Phillips?” Tony’s indignant tone told her she had misread the situation. “I called, he didn’t answer. I left a message. He hasn’t called back. Would you like to check the rest of my work from this morning?”

“Mea culpa.” Brett grabbed another fistful of fries. “Forgive me?” Between bites of crispy goodness, she explained. “I talked to Judge Langston about Kenneth’s situation, and she appointed me to represent him. Well, not him exactly, but she appointed me to represent the hypothetical person I talked to her about. We’ll just keep a running bill and submit it when the case is over.”

“Will do.”

Tony’s tone was chipper, not at all what Brett had expected when she told him they would be paid pennies on the dollar for a capital case she hadn’t had any desire to take in the first place. “You’re in an awfully good mood.” She polished off the rest of his fries to fortify herself for whatever he had up his sleeve.

Tony handed her a napkin and a slip of paper with a name and phone number. “Mrs. Ambulance Company referred a friend.”

“Not another Medicare case.”

“Yes, another Medicare case. Those cases pay the bills, you know.”

“I may have to cut back on some of these paper intensive cases while I gear up for the Phillips case.” Brett braced herself for the fallout.

“Excuse me, miss. Is there something you’re not telling me? I thought this was an open and shut, confess and work out a deal kind of case.”

“Maybe. Ryan Foster is taking lead on the case.”

“Oh. I see.”

Brett knew she didn’t need to elaborate. The feelers about Ryan’s run for the district attorney’s office were out in force, and her office had received no less than a half dozen invitations to meet and greets with the potential candidate. Ryan could view the publicity of a trial as more valuable than an open and shut plea deal. Brett wondered what Tony would think if he knew how she got hot just sitting across from Ryan and her power desk in her large top floor office. She shrugged away the memory.

Brett dreaded election season. Every yahoo with political aspirations threw their hat in the ring, and they spent their first dollars purchasing the mailing list of the Dallas Bar Association where they would begin begging for dollars to support their campaigns. She, like every other attorney who litigated, felt the need to cough up at least a minimal contribution to the judges and other officials she regularly encountered. Brett never felt like she was gaining an advantage with her contributions, but she did view the act as a type of talisman to ward off the ill will of those who might recall the absence of her name from their donor lists.

“I’m a little worried she may not deal.”

“Can you talk to her?”

“I did talk to her this morning, though I left out the fact I might be representing one of the real killers. She might be under the impression I’m signing on to represent Edwards. She wouldn’t really tell me anything about the case, so I was pretty cagey with her.” Brett couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it bothered her that all she had was Kenneth’s side of the story. She wasn’t comfortable starting plea negotiations without knowing more about what kind of case the state had, not to mention the fact that in her experience, her clients didn’t always provide the complete picture in the first round of talks. Getting to the bare bones of the matter was usually a process requiring several circles around the facts, before she and her client could zero in on a version of the truth. Brett suddenly had an idea that might help eliminate some of the circling.

“Will you see if you can get Jake Simmons to come in this afternoon?”

“Pretty short notice.”

“If he has the time, I think he’ll do it for me.” Jake Simmons was the best private investigator she knew, and he owed her a favor. She left Tony with the debris from his lunch and went to the tiny kitchenette down the hall to forage for something to supplement the greasy carbs she had filched from him. She settled on a Yoplait, but she wasn’t happy about it. Moments later, Tony buzzed her desk phone.

“Jake’s coming by at three.”

“Thanks.”

“That leaves you plenty of time to make calls on the new case. I scheduled them in first thing in the morning.”

Brett groaned her response. She dug deep in the plastic yogurt container as if it might contain a treasure in the bottom. Something like a cheeseburger with bacon, extra mayo, and another side of fries. No such luck. She tossed the empty container in the trash and focused on her desk, even straightening it a bit.

*

Ryan finished eating her sandwich and tossed the brown paper bag into the trash can beneath her desk. High fiber wheat bread, turkey, lettuce. No mayo. She saved the apple for an afternoon snack. She grabbed a gym bag from the corner of her office, tossed the apple inside, and made her way back downstairs. Jeff, finishing off the last of a greasy slice of pizza at his desk, looked surprised to see her.

“Hey, Ryan, what’s up?”

She contemplated telling him about Brett Logan’s visit. He had a right to know about a potential development on the case. She considered for a moment before deciding she would tell him when or if she had something specific to say. Instead, she focused on the original purpose of her trip downstairs.