This Case Is Gonna Kill Me (26 page)

It took another twenty minutes of cajoling and yelling between the siblings and Mrs. Abercrombie while I sat silent, but it was finally done. I headed back upstairs to where Bruce had brought in beverages and a cheese platter for Deegan, Waite, and Buchanan despite my order not to. They looked at me as I paused in the doorway. “We have a deal.”

There were handshakes all around. Deegan signed five copies of the agreement, and Peggy left them with me to get the Abercrombies’ signatures. I said I’d have their copy back to Peggy by week’s end.

We parted at the elevator. Deegan held my hand for a fraction of a second too long and said, “I’m glad to have had the opportunity to actually meet you.”

Yeah, if you’d succeeded in having me killed you would have missed this magical moment.
But for once in my life I didn’t say what I was thinking.

The elevator arrived and the trio got in. Deegan held the door. “Are you going down?”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll take the stairs.”

“That’s how you stay so slim,” he said, and allowed the door to close.

I wanted to take a shower. I opened the door into the stairwell and started slowly down toward the seventieth floor, trailing my hand along the cold metal bannister. I considered my reaction, and whether it was only due to my suspicions.
It’s more than a damn suspicion when Chip was killed by a werewolf and Gillford was killed by the concerted efforts of
three
werewolves.

David was prowling in the small lobby by the elevators. He jumped when I pushed open the stairwell door, and rushed over. “What happened? What’s going on?” They were couched as questions, but they were really commands.

“They made a settlement offer, and the clients accepted.”

“A big settlement?”

“Yeah, really big.”

And that’s when it hit me. The case that had been dragging on for seventeen years was over, and our clients, despite deserving jack shit, were going to walk away with twenty million dollars. And Deegan assumed that, since he’d bought me off, there would never be justice for Chip.

I realized David had been saying something. “What?” I asked, trying to focus.

He gripped my shoulders. “I said, how much?”

“Twenty million.”

His release was almost a push. I struggled to keep my balance, opened my mouth to object, and watched him go sprinting toward the door to the stairwell. “Wait. Where are you…?”

The door swung shut. I went back to my office and groups of female associates trooping in to ask me what had happened. I was in the midst of the fifth explanation when Bruce walked, unannounced and unheralded, into my office.

“You’re wanted upstairs,” he said, his tone snotty. The other women and I exchanged glances. “They don’t like to be kept waiting,” Bruce added, his tone huffy.

I followed him to the elevator, and we rode up in silence as Bruce glared daggers at me. He led me to Gold’s office and actually gave me a push into the room before shutting the door behind me.

The three senior partners and David were all waiting. Gold’s office was about what I’d expected. Heavy wood desk and bookcases, large British men’s club armchairs, oil paintings of stormy landscapes and distant castles on the walls.

“David tells us you’ve settled the
Abercrombie
case,” Shade said.

“Yes, sir.”

“And you didn’t see fit to tell us,” Gold snapped.

“I knew you were in a private meeting and not to be disturbed. I figured it would wait until you were finished.”

“May we know the terms?” McGillary asked.

I handed over the settlement agreement. Shade, in the middle, held the papers while Gold and McGillary read over his shoulders.

“Good lord,” McGillary said faintly.

Shade handed back the paper and gave me a wide smile, his canines flashing under the florescent lights. “Bravo, Linnet. Well done.”

“But what did she
do
?” Gold asked in a complaining tone.

All three looked at me. I set aside the settlement and considered what to say. I couldn’t say I’d been following Chip’s lead in locating another will. I temporized. “I’m not sure.”

David, hanging back at the door, rolled his eyes. I shot him a glare, then arranged my features into a conciliatory expression and faced the senior partners.

“I’m not trying to be glib, really. I honestly don’t know what brought them to the table with … with…” I gestured helplessly at the pages.

David stepped forward. “She’s been digging into this case ever since Chip died. Following leads that perhaps Chip didn’t exploit.”

“Would one of those leads involve a dead man in New Jersey?” Gold asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you find yourself in scrapes such as this at Yale?” he asked.

“No, sir.”

“So are we likely to continue to … enjoy these adventures?” Gold drawled.

“I’m glad somebody’s enjoying them,” I muttered resentfully. Once again, David cast his eyes up toward heaven as if imploring it for patience. “And God, I hope not.”

Shade laid a hand on Gold’s forearm. “She’s brought to a conclusion a case that has plagued us for years and made a great deal of money for this firm. I think that answers the question we were debating.”

For a long moment Shade and Gold locked eyes. Gold looked to McGillary, who gave an imperceptible nod. Gold made a conscious effort to breathe so he would have enough air to emit a gusting sigh. “Very well. She stays.”

David jerked his head toward the door. I followed him out. I stood in the hall outside Gold’s office and I tried to parse all the emotion I’d experienced in the past few hours. Fear when I’d learned Deegan was coming to the office. Shock at the offer. Anger while dealing with Marlene. Triumph when the deal had been inked. And now …

“Pick a feeling,” Sullivan said.

I looked up at him. “Exhausted. Defeated, and I shouldn’t feel that way.” My hands clenched and I started to pace. “And damn angry. I accomplish something and they”—I pointed a shaking hand at the blank face of the door—“make me feel like shit. Well, fuck that! I’m good at this.”

“Yes, you are, but you’re also…”

“What?” I demanded, and I could feel the pugnacious thrust of my jaw as I uttered the word.

“I don’t exactly know. Smart, yes, you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t smart, but indefatigable? Unexpected? Blunt to a fault?”

“Careful, it’s starting to sound like you like me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, dampening any pretension on my part.

“Then why did you bring the news to them? About the settlement.”

He made a sound somewhere between a growl and a mutter and turned on his heel. “Because I hate that asshole Winchester.” He walked away toward the front lobby.

Which brought me back to the old lawyer adage:
Never ask a question to which you don’t know the answer.
Here I thought I had made a new friend and ally, and instead I was just a pawn in a battle between David and Ryan. Vampires sucked. Or maybe lawyers sucked. Actually,
people
sucked.

I shook off my reverie and walked toward the lobby and the elevators, only to be intercepted by Bruce. He looked pissed, and he pushed in on me until our faces were only inches apart.

“Why are you doing this?” he hissed. “Why do you draw their attention when it won’t do you a damn bit of good? They have meetings about you. They argue about you, and you’re just a woman. There’s no reason to notice you.”

I was on the verge of just letting loose on him for the dismissive, sexist bullshit, but then I realized that underneath all the attitude was fear and grief and desperation. “You want to be Made so badly it’s killing you. Forgive the gallows humor.”

Bruce jerked away from me. “Oh, fuck off!”

I went after him, touched him lightly on the shoulder. “Bruce, listen to me. I was fostered in a vampire household. You’re doing this all wrong. Yes, you’re incredibly handsome, and you try to be useful, but that’s not what makes them pick a man. They are connoisseurs. Why spend thousands of years in the company of ugly people? But it takes more than looks and a willingness to please. They look for brains, training, accomplishment, and life experience. How old are you?” The response was too muffled for me to understand. “What?”

“Twenty.”

“Get out of here. Go back to school. Get a degree. Excel at something, Make them notice you for who you are, not how you look. Become a man first.”

He kept his back to me but gave a sharp little nod. I felt a quivering in his shoulders, and I hurried off to the elevators while he ran for the bathroom and a chance to compose himself.

Downstairs, I sat in my office for another twenty minutes pretending to work but unable to concentrate. Finally I emerged to a round of shoulder pats from the male associates and hugs from most of the women. There were many congratulations. Some of them were even sincere. I was in a bleak fog, however. I had been checked and mated by Deegan.

At seven p.m., my phone rang. Norma sounded sour.

“It’s that Finkelstein character.”

“Put it through.” She sniffed but complied.

“Well, it looks like we established what you are,” Syd said, disdain dripping off every word.

“Excuse me?”

“So, Deegan found your price.”

I lowered my voice. “He offered a settlement. I had to take it to my clients.”

“You just took money away from Chastity and Destiny!” he yelled.

“They’re not my clients. I represented my clients!” I snapped back, my tone rising to match his.

“Yeah, well, Deegan’s leaning on us now. He offered us a shitty half a mil. What did you get?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Westin would have.”

I slumped. “Yeah, he probably would have, but I’m still trying to be an ethical lawyer.”

“That tells me all I need to know. You did a shitload better than half a mil.” I remained silent. “Well, we’re not backing down.”

“You’re not going to take the offer?”

“Fuck, no. Abercrombie loved Chastity. She was the love of his life. He left her everything.”

“But you don’t have the will.”

“I’ll keep looking. I have to.” I didn’t pry, but I heard the sorrow in Syd’s voice, and I wondered what he wasn’t telling me about Chastity and Destiny.

I knew I was under no obligation to reveal what I’d learned from Gillford, but it felt shitty not to. And now my clients had their settlement, so what could it hurt?

“Look, Syd, meet me at the Algonquin. We’ll have a drink.”

*   *   *

I slipped through the sliding doors just behind a filled luggage cart with the hotel’s long-haired white cat riding proudly on the top suitcase. The Japanese tourists who owned the luggage were giggling and snapping photos, delighted by this touch of New York flavor.

Syd was sunk down in one of the big upholstered chairs. His sport coat was hung on one side of the high back, and its loud windowpane pattern seemed fluorescent in the muted, subaqueous lighting of the bar. He wore a short-sleeved shirt, limp with sweat, and his tie was loosened.

I took the chair opposite. A small table separated us. A highball glass with only dregs of ice shed condensation, and moisture rings dotted the table like the sucker tracks of an invisible octopus. The waitress came over.

“What are you drinking?” I asked Syd.

“Gin and tonic.” He held out his glass. “I’ll take another.”

“Nothing for me, thanks.” The girl left. “Though it does sound refreshing. It’s so hot.”

“You didn’t ask to meet me so we could discuss the weather,” Syd said shortly. “What’s up?”

“Look, I’m going to give you a name. Thomas Gillford.” I stood and threw down two twenties on the table to cover Syd’s drinks and a tip.

“What does that mean? Who is this guy?” Syd called as I started to walk away.

“You’re energetic enough. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

I paused to give the cat a stroke on the back and left feeling all smug and Mata Hari–ish.

18

On Saturday afternoon, Caroline and I met up at the coffeemaker in the kitchen. She grimaced down at her mug. “I think this will be my eleventh cup.”

“Yaagh, you’re going to wreck your stomach,” I said.

“I know, but Johnson is going to trial in two weeks, I’m the second on the case, and I’m making sure everything is ready.”

I checked my watch. “Look, I’ve been getting up to speed on this environmental case since eight this morning. What say we take off, get some lunch, and do some shopping? We can get back to breaking rocks tomorrow.”

“It’s tempting.…” She started to shake her head.

I jumped in. “Come on.”

“Oh hell, why not?”

We left our dirty coffee mugs in the sink, raced back to our offices for our purses, and met at the elevators.

“Did you ever ditch school?” I asked as we got on the elevator.

“Oh God, no! I’m the quintessential good girl. You?”

“No way. And from fourth grade until I graduated from high school I was fostered with a vampire. You do
not
want the truant officer calling your vampire liege.”

Caroline laughed. We nodded to the lobby guard and stepped out onto the street. The heat seemed to shimmer off the sidewalks. We found a small restaurant that specialized in soup and salad, and we both went for the chilled cucumber and almond soup and a small side salad resplendent with roasted red peppers, piñon nuts, and feta cheese. Fortified with food and buckets of iced tea, we headed off to Bloomingdale’s.

Hangers
shush
ed along metal bars as we flipped through a rack of silk blouses. “You’ve been at the firm longer. What’s the story with David Sullivan?” I asked Caroline as she held a deep purple shirt under her chin and critically inspected herself in a nearby mirror.

“I have no idea. What do you think?” she added, waving the blouse at me.

“Wrong color with your skin tone.”

She sighed. “I knew that. I just hoped you’d convince me otherwise. I love this color. But no, I don’t know. He’d already been demoted when I started four years ago.”

“Wow, it must have been some offense if he’s still in human purdah.”