“How can you say that? You’ve been telling people that Allan killed Judge Caufeld. Lauren, Allan was as dear to the judge as life itself. How can you betray either of them that way?” Barbara looked ill, her face stretched in an expression of such despair and disappointment Lauren thought her heart would break.
“Wait a minute.” Lauren pumped her hands against the wall Barbara was putting up. She kept her voice low. “I don’t know who told you that, but I never said Allan killed Wilson. But things aren’t as they seem, Barbara, and I’m trying to figure out what the truth is.”
“The truth is you’re trying to bring Allan down because Mr. Warner wants to. Lauren, it’s all over the place. Can you honestly tell me that you aren’t turning against Allan because you’ve been sleeping with Eli Warner? Is that what this is all about? Have you been brainwashed?”
“I suppose that’s how Allan would see things,” Lauren lamented, “but it’s not true. Eli told me certain things; I’ve seen other things for myself. The only thing I know for sure is that Allan has something to hide and if you give me a minute, I can tell you what I know.” Barbara shook her head and backed away. Lauren hustled after her, insisting, “Can you just listen?”
“No,” Barbara said, her purse held in front of her as she backed through her own office. Lauren stopped halfway across Wilson’s office. The two women faced off.
“Why not? Please, Barbara, please! You listened to Allan. You believed Allan. Wouldn’t Wilson want you to give me a chance, too? Please, Barbara. Please?”
Lauren closed her eyes and prayed. She only opened them when she heard the door close. She opened them to see that Barbara was standing on the right side with her.
Lauren paced, she stood, she postured as the words poured out. Her arguments were concise, the evidence beyond reproach. She knew she was arguing the case of a lifetime for a jury of one, and the consequences of losing could be devastating, if not lethal. She talked about Eli’s investigation and the years before Barbara had come to work with Judge Caufeld. She expounded on Allan’s reactions to her questions, to his odd behavior at the funeral. Lauren held the desk as if it were the lectern in a courtroom. She ticked off a list of every instance where Edie Williams had known something, done something, or rerouted something to make it more expedient for Allan. Lauren talked about Damien Boyd and his defense counsel. She told Barbara about Allan’s pro-bono defense of Damien Boyd all those many years ago. She told Barbara slowly and surely about the attack on Eli the night before. She told Barbara she was afraid to find out what lay ahead and more afraid not to. There was no going back for her or Eli now because someone was angry enough to hurt them.
“I don’t know what to think,” Barbara said when Lauren was finished.
“You have to think something,” Lauren pleaded.
“No, Lauren, I don’t. I adored Judge Caufeld and it pains me to say I don’t have the courage to find out the truth, but I don’t. That’s the way it is.” Barbara stood up and retrieved her purse. She had aged in the last hour, but it had nothing to do with the passage of time. It had to do with a conscience that was called to task and refused the challenge. “I’ve been offered another position, and I’m going to take it. Where you’re headed can’t help anyone, Lauren, it can only hurt.”
Lauren’s bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. She bit down hard to keep from screaming. She needed help. Eli needed help and Barbara was turning her back. She bit one notch harder and knew that she couldn’t blame the woman.
“I understand. Really, I do. But if you can’t believe in me, please don’t turn on me. Let me work this out and don’t say anything to anyone. Please, Barbara. I understand if you can’t do more than that.”
“Okay, Lauren.” Barbara was ready to go. Lauren stepped back then changed her mind. “Wait. Wait just a minute, please.”
Quickly she found her purse and one of her cards. She scribbled Eli’s address and phone number on it and gave it to Barbara.
“Just in case. I don’t know. You might need to find me.” She stepped back. “Good luck on your new job.”
“Thanks.”
Barbara had the door open when Lauren thought to ask.
“Where will you be?”
“Westwood.” She chuckled almost mournfully. “Another federal building. Mark Jackson offered me a job as his special assistant.”
“I didn’t know he was looking,” Lauren whispered.
“Allan was worried about me. He put in a good word,” Barbara said, and the undertone was a guilty one. “Bye, Lauren. Take care.”
Lauren nodded. Care was exactly what she’d be taking.
“Oh, my God!” Cheryl squealed and put her hands to her lips when Lauren stuck her head into her cubicle.
“Nice to see you, too,” Lauren said to her secretary. “Is everyone still in the morning meeting?” Cheryl nodded. She looked sick. Lauren smiled, hardly noticing. “Okay. Listen, I’ve got to get my things out of my office but it’s locked and I don’t want to make a big deal out of this. Give me the keys. I’ve got a zillion things to do today.”
Lauren stuck out her hands and wiggled her fingers waiting for the keys. Cheryl didn’t move. Cheryl looked scared to death.
“Okay.” Lauren laughed. “I haven’t been around for a while, Cheryl, but I’m not exactly a ghost.”
“Lauren, they told me to call GSA police if you showed up. They told me I was supposed to keep you here as long as I could, so you wouldn’t get away before they could talk to you.”
“Who? Who told you that?” Lauren demanded. “And why? I’m not a criminal.”
“They told me you were, Lauren,” Cheryl breathed, taking Lauren’s hand ,and pulling her into the cubicle with her. “Listen, you better go now. They said you were trying to steal files on the Stewart case. They said you were going to try to sell information to the tabloids. Did you really try to do that?”
“Jesus, Cheryl, no!” Lauren couldn’t believe this. “Who told you that? Edie? She is so out of hand.”
“No. It was Mr. Schuster and Mr. Jackson. They came around and told us all, but I got a private talk because I handle your stuff, I guess. They just put the fear of God into me, Lauren.”
“You don’t think what they said is true?”
“I don’t know. I mean you were acting kind of weird right after Judge Caufeld died.” Cheryl didn’t look quite so beautiful anymore. She looked fairly stupid.
“I was not,” Lauren objected and then fell silent. What was the use? She could talk herself blue in the face and a secretary worried about her job wouldn’t change her mind about anything. “Okay. I understand things are a little weird around here right now. But I promise I wasn’t going to do anything like that. Listen, I won’t even ask you to let me into my office, but I want my things. You just go in and get my briefcase and the picture of my mother. You can check it if you want...”
A door slammed and Lauren ducked. Cheryl’s eyes widened with fear. No one came their way.
“I can’t, Lauren. You should just go back home and wait until everything’s over. Then maybe you can talk to Mr. Schuster and figure all this out. But I can’t take the chance.” She looked at the clock on her desk. “God, Lauren, the meeting’s going to break up in ten minutes. Please, just get out of here, and I won’t tell anyone I saw you. How’s that?”
Lauren backed away. There was no way around this. She gave Cheryl a thumb’s up and mumbled something that sounded like thanks anyway. Quickly she walked down the long, gray-carpeted hall heading toward the elevator then she had a change of heart.
Edie was not only in trial on the Stewart matter, she was now handling Damien Boyd. She just might be in her office dealing with last minute preparations. It was early enough, and Martinelli wasn’t a judicial early riser. Lauren rushed, looking over her shoulder as she went and catching her breath as she opened the door to Edie’s office.
“What a surprise,” Edie said, hardly seeming surprised at all.
“I kno
w what’s happening,” Lauren blurted out.
“Really?” Edie threw her pencil on the desk.
“Cheryl says Abram concocted some story about me trying to pull my files and sell them to the media. You know that’s not so, Edie.”
“I thought it was a rather ridiculous story. But it still doesn’t mean that I want you anywhere around here either. You’re bad news these days, Lauren, and I’ve got prosecutions to take care of that outweigh any problem you’ve got.”
“No, that’s not true. Look, I don’t want anything from you, okay? I just want my stuff. My briefcase is in my office and I want the picture of my mother then I’m out of here until I hear there’s a verdict on Damien Boyd. Okay? Is that a deal?” Lauren lied easily. She’d be back in a flash if she got solid evidence that Damien Boyd had nothing to do with Wilson’s murder. But Edie seemed willing to believe she’d leave quietly.
“I don’t care. Go get it,” Edie picked up her pencil.
“Cheryl won’t let me in. She thinks she’s got to call GSA police. I need you to get it for me. Please, Edie. Please.”
“What’s in it for me?” Lauren almost laughed. Allan. The woman had absorbed so much of him.
“Nothing, Edie, but I’ll tell you some things I know. I know that Allan defended Damien Boyd pro bono years ago. I know that he’s got Bernard Gold fixed up to defend Damien and that Paul couldn’t litigate his way out of a paper bag. I know something is terribly, terribly wrong with Allan, and the only reason I’m telling you any of this is because I think you really do care about him. In fact, I think you love him, Edie. If you do, you won’t blow this off. You’ll help him, because you know you’re the only one who’ll be able to. Just help him, Edie.”
“Do you think he killed Caufeld, Lauren?” Edie asked coolly.
Lauren looked at her. She turned on her heel and took three steps across the room. She was almost at the wall before she gained her perspective. She looked at Edie when she asked.
“You know him better than I do. Do you think he did?”
Before Edie could answer, the door to her office flew open, almost pinning Lauren against the wall. She didn’t breathe; she leaned away so that it wouldn’t hit her. Lauren froze and said her prayers. First, she prayed whoever it was wouldn’t come in. Then she prayed that, if they didn’t, Edie wouldn’t give her away. Both prayers were answered simultaneously.
“Abram, you scared me to death.” Edie’s hand went to her heart as she stood up and floated toward the half-open door. She reached for it and Lauren prayed again. Instead of pulling the door back, Edie held it. “I was just coming to find you. I think I left the Grand Jury transcripts on your desk, and I need them before I go to court this morning.”
“I didn’t see them. Besides, I have something more important to talk to you about,” Abram snapped. He wasn’t in a good mood. Perhaps lying didn’t set well with him.
“Tell me while we walk. I’m due in court in twenty minutes and I’ve got to have those transcripts. Brendan’s out handling the cross on the Stewarts’ and I promised I’d be in Martinelli’s court...”
That was the last Lauren heard as Edie walked out the door with Abram Schuster. Finally breathing again, Lauren twirled slowly so that she faced the wall. There she stayed, hugging the bad paint job, waiting to see who it was that would walk through next and wondering if she could possibly make it out of there before anyone did. Five minutes later Edie stepped back in.
“Here.” Lauren’s briefcase was passed to her. “Mark’s men saw you outside talking to Carolyn Stewart. You are an idiot, Lauren.”
“Maybe. But thanks.”
“The stairs would be a good choice.”
“Okay. I promise. This is it. I won’t ask you for another thing.”
“We’re even. You didn’t screw me when it came to the Stewart prosecution and I appreciate it. You could have knocked me out of the process completely.” Lauren nodded. She was opening the door when Edie put her hand out and held it shut. “About the other thing? Allan? He couldn’t have killed Caufeld. I want you to know that. You’re only going to hurt yourself if you keep going after him.”
Lauren gave a curt nod. Edie cut her loose. Lauren had already run down six flights of stairs when it dawned on her that Edie’s assurance hadn’t made her feel any better.
She hit the ground running and was back to her car in record time. Unlocking the door, she threw in her briefcase and followed fast. Breathing hard, she unbuckled the straps, unzipped the main compartment and stuck her hand in but she didn’t find what she was looking for. The Daily Journal. Notes on the Stewart timeline. Pulling the case on to her lap, she unzipped the other compartments and shook out the contents until the briefcase was empty. Agitated, she pushed through the pile: papers, pens, business cards. The things she was looking for weren’t there. Defeated she sat with her head back, thinking about the last week and every movement she made in Wilson Caufeld’s office. Then, like a miracle, the heavens of her mind opened up and she knew exactly what she had to do to get what she wanted.
26
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m glad you’re feeling better. I was worried. Okay. Right. Don’t move around too much. I’ll be back in forty minutes. I have a surprise for you. No, not pizza. Better than that.” Lauren held the computer disks between her fingers and dropped them into her purse. “See you soon.”
Lauren hung up the phone, relieved on two counts. Eli was feeling better and she had remembered which jacket pocket those disks were in. Personal letters and the annuity log. They may not be much, but, then again, they may mean finding an end to this nightmare.
Quickly as she could, Lauren packed clothes into her overnight bag then went into the bathroom to scoop up the first things that came into view. She dumped them in with the clothes. Finally ready to go, she slung her purse over her shoulder and hefted her overnighter thinking about their next move as she walked into the living room and into Allan Lassiter’s line of sight.
“You aren’t the only one who watered plants.” He smiled at her as he tossed her house keys on her coffee table, sat back on her sofa, laid his long arms across the back of it and crossed his legs. “Now, I do think it’s time we had a heart to heart, Laurie.”
“How did you know I was here?” Lauren asked quietly, taking her steps cautiously now.
“Easy.” He was so pleased with himself. “Edie called. Said you looked like you’d slept in your clothes. She said...”
Lauren didn’t wait to hear one more traitorous word. With all her strength Lauren swung her overnighter and crashed it into Allan’s face. Without thinking, she bolted for the door. The gods were with her all the way down the hall and into the open elevator. Even as the doors closed, she heard Allan’s howling. Safe inside, Lauren fell back into the corner of the metal box and prayed it would go faster. Please, please, please. The prayer became so mesmerizing it took on a life of its own. What on earth did she pray for? That she hadn’t slashed Allan’s face with a zipper or a wheel? That she would wake up and find this all a nightmare, herself caught in the throes of some disease that caused hallucinations? Perhaps, she prayed for something small. To make it through the next five minutes, to make the right decision when the doors opened, to make it back to Eli who was now a world away.
The elevator jerked. Lauren lost her footing, skidding forward only to right herself as the doors slowly opened. Head down, she eyed the opening. It grew in proportion to her terror. Was he there? Had he managed to run down all those stairs, bloodied and angry enough to kill? No, thank God. No one was waiting, and there was nothing to stop her. Barely able to control her trembling, Lauren found her keys on the run, opened the door and started the ignition.
She was almost home free. Quicker than lightning, she pushed the remote and the gate started to open. Christ it was slow. Sluggish like a snail, the mechanism grinding. Anyone could hear it. They would know what she was doing. They would find her. He would find her.
“Hurry. H
urry,” Lauren whispered but the iron gate did only what it could.
Lauren shifted, glancing over her shoulder, looking at the elevator nook. Allan hadn’t followed, or if he had the elevator was slow. She’d be gone by the time he got to the garage. Lauren smiled, laughing as hysteria tried to grip her. She shook it off. The gate was open wide enough now for her to get through. She gunned the motor and the car lurched forward, the front fender catching the gate so that it paused, as it was programmed to do. Lauren slammed into reverse and closed her eyes, waiting out the safety mechanism. It moved again, trying to close. She grabbed the remote and hit it. The door stopped. She hit it again. It began to open and now she could make it through.
Half out of the gate, speeding for the street, Lauren slammed on the brakes just as Allan pulled his Lexus in front of her. Tires on both cars squealed, drowning out the cry of terror that came from Lauren. She smelled the stench of burned rubber and saw the fury in Allan’s eyes as his door flew open and he rose like a Phoenix from the car. He screamed at her.
“For God’s sake, Lauren. I want to talk to you. I just want to talk to you.”
He bled. He bled and he was enraged, and Lauren was paralyzed with fear. That lasted only long enough for her to realize there was no one to save her except herself. With that thought she threw the car into reverse, back into drive and, as the tires cried, she did too, and aimed the car through the only open space. Allan moved fast, pirouetting out of the way, and grabbing for the door handle. The car jumped forward, shaking Allan off like a bug. Lauren grappled with the wheel, turning right when it seemed it had a mind of its own to go left. She jumped the brick curb separating the flower beds from the sidewalk. Fighting for control, Lauren held steady then swerved again, barely missing Allan’s car as she went around. Or did she? Did she hit it? Did she kill him?
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