“We got to go, girl,” Lenore told her. Glancing up at the big round clock on the wall, Jess saw that it lacked only a few minutes of seven. Grace handed Jess her purse, and then the three of them left the locker room and took the elevator for the lobby.
“Thanks, Gracie,” Jess said softly when the elevator stopped and Lenore stepped out, leaving her and Grace momentarily alone.
“Get out there and knock ’em dead.” Grinning at Jess, Grace gave her a little nudge that sent her out into the lobby. It was already crowded and noisy as everybody gathered to wait for the limos. Jess hardly recognized her coworkers, glamorous tonight in evening wear.
Taking a deep breath, cautious because of the height of her heels on the slick marble floor, Jess walked toward Andrew, whom she could see standing near one of the wide double doors at the front of the lobby, while Grace veered off with a wave, heading toward the revolving door at the side. Andrew was looking dapper in a black tux, she saw, and thought that Pearse would be relieved at his attire. Andrew had obviously seen them step off the elevator and at that moment was busy tracking Grace with appreciative eyes.
Jess smiled wryly. So much for my femme fatale pretensions.
“Who’s that?” Andrew asked as she reached him. Jess saw that the whole gang was there, Pearse, Andrew, and Hayley, lovely in a slinky black gown that made Jess glad Grace had insisted she wear some other color, and newly arrived Lenore, flushed and adorable in her fairy godmother dress as she smiled at Pearse, who, with his black hair brushed back from his face and his obviously custom-made black tux, was looking, as Lenore had put it earlier, very much like Mr. GQ.
“My sister.” Jess turned to watch Grace disappear through the revolving door. She looked back to find that Pearse was watching Grace, too, while Lenore looked up at him with an expression that told Jess exactly where her heart lay and Hayley glared after Grace.
“Maybe you can introduce me one of these days,” Andrew said.
Jess’s smile was noncommittal. “Maybe.” Actually, the last thing on earth she wanted was to have Grace engage in one of her speed romances with somebody she worked with. Andrew didn’t know it, but Grace would chew him up and spit him out.
“Glad to see you wore a penguin suit this time.” Christine drifted over to them to look Andrew up and down. She was wearing a forest green evening kimono that sparkled with sequins, and with her red hair she reminded Jess irresistibly of a Christmas tree. “At least you’re not dumb enough to make the same mistake twice.”
“Not me,” Andrew agreed. Then, when Christine glanced away, he winked and pressed the knot on his bow tie. It lit up with flashing multicolored lights. Jess gaped at it, appalled. But by the time Christine glanced back around, it looked like just an ordinary black tie again. Jess didn’t think Pearse could have seen, either, because he was partly turned away, talking with the Queen of Torts.
“Idiot,” Hayley growled at him, and Andrew grinned and said something back. Jess missed whatever it was, because just then Mark stepped off the elevator, looking so outrageously handsome in his black tux that Jess’s breath caught.
Nobody looked quite like Mark.
She wasn’t the only one who noticed. Female heads turned to track his progress as he walked out into the lobby. Jess saw Cates, resplendent in a one-shouldered silver gown that molded every curve, waving at him. Jess’s eyes narrowed; her muscles tensed; her teeth clenched. He lifted a hand in response, and Jess felt a spurt of what she hated to admit even to herself felt very much like jealousy.
A moment later he spotted Jess and came straight to her side.
“You look beautiful,” he bent his head to whisper in her ear. It was so much what she needed to hear that she smiled at him. So do you bubbled to her lips, but she didn’t say it. Over, she reminded herself, we’re over.
“How’s Clementine?” she asked instead, low-voiced.
“Scratching on your couch, last I saw of her.”
Then the cars arrived, and the chance for private conversation was lost. They all were loaded up and driven away in groups of eight or ten, in a long procession of stately limos that crossed the Key Bridge into Virginia, where Mr. Dunn’s estate stood high on the bluffs overlooking the banks of the Potomac.
The estate was called Frog Hill, taking its name from the hundreds of tiny green tree frogs that bred in the dozen or so ornate bronze fountains that graced flower gardens ablaze with late summer blooms. As darkness fell, the frogs sang their high-pitched songs from the branches of the tall elms and oaks and walnuts that crowded the grounds. A beautiful white stone mansion with a black slate, mansard-style roof dominated the hundred plus acres, which tonight, were alive with lights and music and guests. The front of the house looked out over a sheer drop of eighty feet or more to the black waters of the river below. Stone terraces led down from the back of the house toward a flat lawn with tennis courts and an enormous swimming pool, and it was on these terraces that the guests congregated. A widower, Mr. Dunn actually spent little time at the estate, preferring his lavish apartment in town. But it was kept fully staffed and ready for him at all times.
“Heard Pearse put you on his team full-time.” Christine stopped beside Jess at the canape table under one of the huge, open-sided tents intended to provide shelter in case it rained again. Nearby, several dozen couples swayed to the dreamy music of a live band. Among the dancers Jess spotted Diane Babbage, a national news anchor, Kenny Adkins, an iconic country-western singer, and Crew Owen, a former football great whose ex-wife had just been found heinously murdered. There was also Andrew, with a woman she didn’t recognize. The rest of the team was nowhere in sight. Apparently oblivious to the notables around them, Christine was focused on the food. Her plate was already loaded with cold shrimp and Swedish meatballs and squares of cheese, to which she added three tiny puff pastries from the tray in front of her as she spoke. Jess’s own plate held one of the puff pastries and a couple of chocolate-dipped strawberries, none of which she felt particularly like eating at the moment. She’d only retreated to the buffet, which was set up near the pool and was already growing crowded, because she’d spotted Rob Phillips on the terrace above. He was there with his parents as honored guests along with perhaps five hundred other prominent people Jess assumed were clients. Besides the celebrities dancing just yards away, tonight’s guest list included several movie stars, a large number of senators and congressmen, two Supreme Court Justices (that she’d seen so far), and half the cabinet. Security was present in droves, discreetly costumed in formal wear like the guests but unmistakable nonetheless. As Jess’s first impulse had been to march right up to the Phillips contingent and demand to know what they knew about Tiffany, she had slapped herself with her own gag order and headed in the opposite direction. Before she started accusing anybody of anything, she had to work this out so she knew what she was talking about. At this point, it was still remotely possible that Tiffany had simply taken a vacation to escape the stress of the trial. And that Allison was on her honeymoon.
“Yes, he did,” Jess agreed, picking up what looked like a tiny quiche and adding it to her plate. The spicy aroma of the food combined with the strings of Japanese lanterns lighting the tent and the live music to create an exotic atmosphere that was pure bohemian paradise. “I’m thrilled.”
“Good call on his part, if you ask me. Pearse is a smart man.” Christine looked beyond Jess and nodded knowingly. “Ambitious, too.”
Jess turned to look and saw that Pearse was dancing with a woman she didn’t know.
“Ambitious?” Jess picked up on the undercurrent in Christine’s voice. The couple was outside the tent near the far end of the outrageously opulent pool, swaying in the shadows in front of the thirty-foot-high cascading waterfall that poured down into it in an effort, Jess thought, to make the whole thing look like a naturally occurring grotto. As the pool was huge and lagoon shaped and its lush landscaping gave the feel of a tropical island, she had to admit the effect was pretty impressive.
/>
“You don’t know who that is? Margo Knight.”
“The ketchup heiress?” Even Jess had heard of her. Both her parents had died in a plane crash a couple of years previously, and Ms. Knight was now said to be worth something in the neighborhood of half a billion dollars. In her early thirties, she was dark haired, slim, and glamorous in a gold Grecian-style gown. Arms wrapped around Pearse’s neck, snuggling close as they danced, she was laughing up into his face with the air of a woman who has seen something she wants. Jess didn’t have to look far to find Lenore, standing with a knot of Ellis Hayes people not far away, sipping a drink and watching the pair disconsolately over the rim of it.
“Pearse is looking for a political career, and big money’s always a help. That woman’s been sniffing around him for a while, and I’d say he’s interested.”
Poor Lenore was what flitted through Jess’s mind, but she didn’t say it.
“One of those strawberries for me?” Mark appeared behind her, his own plate in his hand. Although he hadn’t stayed glued to her side, he’d been keeping her in sight since they’d arrived. Even as she had followed Pearse’s order to circulate, she’d been aware of Mark out of the corner of her eye. So far they hadn’t had any time for private conversation, but Jess was pretty sure she was going to hear about her solo trip to the Humane Society in greater detail later. She was more interested in where he’d been all day, and what he thought the next step should be in the search for Tiffany.
“Get your own.” Smiling, she pulled her plate away from his poaching fingers, then introduced him to Christine.
“You ever testify as an expert witness?” Christine was sizing him up. “I’m thinking we could sway a lot of female jurors with you on the stand.”
Mark looked surprised. Then he grinned. “What did you have in mind?”
Jess left them to their discussion as she moved further along the buffet. Hayley was there at the end of the line in front of the carved meats.
“Tell me something: is there a reason the hunky Secret Service agent follows you everywhere you go?” Hayley asked as Jess paused to eye the whole roasted pig with a combination of fascination and revulsion.
“Sure. He thinks I’m hot,” Jess answered with a tranquil smile and moved on, not having any interest in carved meat anyway. Hayley’s expression was priceless, and Jess congratulated herself on scoring a hit.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Enjoying the party, Ms. Ford?” Recognizing the voice speaking behind her, Jess almost lost her grip on her plate. Mr. Dunn! Surprised he remembered her name, she turned with a nervous smile to find him looking her over. With approval? She hoped. At least, thanks to Grace, she was well dressed. She stood a little straighter.
“Very much.”
“Glad to hear it. We go to a lot of trouble to make them memorable. In these hard times especially, letting our clients know how much we appreciate them is vital.”
“Everyone seems to be having a good time.”
“It’s the champagne.” Unexpectedly, his blue eyes twinkled at her. Set beneath bushy brows that were as white as what was left of his hair, they suddenly looked surprisingly young. Although his face was lined and weathered, and he was stooped now with age, his shoulders were still broad and he still stood well over six feet tall. Once, she thought, he must have been quite an attractive man. “Moët and Chandon, don’t you know. Drink enough of it, and you’ll have a good time wherever you are. We go through something like a hundred cases per party. Our clients know what the best is, and they not only enjoy it—especially when it’s free, like the champagne—they expect it. Which is why they choose Ellis Hayes, of course.”
“Of course.” Jess’s eyes touched on Tony Mancini, the handsome star of a long-running TV drama set in D.C., as he danced past with an unknown but gorgeous blonde. “I have to tell you, since coming to work here I’ve grown increasingly impressed with our roster of clients.”
Mr. Dunn nodded. “Our clients are our lifeblood. From the days of John Ellis—he was the Ellis in Ellis Hayes, and my maternal grandfather, by the way—we’ve put everything we have into building our relationships with those who come to us for help. We fight like pit bulls and go the extra mile for every one of our clients. ‘Going to war when the outcome is life or death’ isn’t only our slogan. It’s our mantra. We go to war, and by God we win. That’s why we attract the clients we do. It’s taken decades to build up our reputation to this point, and I must say it is one of the things in my life of which I am most proud. That, and the quality of the associates we take on, of course.”
He smiled gallantly at her, and Jess smiled back.
“Mr. Dunn, how are you?” Joining them—actually, slithering in between them so that one shoulder was turned to Jess—Hayley beamed a dazzling smile at Mr. Dunn. The soft glow of the lanterns played up her smooth skin and the dark shine of her hair. She looked lovely, exotic. “What a wonderful party. You’ve certainly outdone yourself this time.”
“Why, thank you, Ms. Marciano. I actually can’t take the credit, however. My assistant takes care of the details, and our caterers are excellent.”
“But yours is the great mind behind it, as we all know. Would you mind if I steal Mr. Dunn away?” She flicked a sideways look at Jess before smiling at Mr. Dunn again and continuing before Jess could answer. “That is, if you’d care to dance?”
Mr. Dunn looked surprised, but pleased. “I’d be honored.” He glanced at Jess. “Ms. Ford …”
“Please go ahead.” Jess didn’t need the brief flicker of triumph in Hayley’s eyes to realize that, in the other’s woman’s mind at least, she’d been outmaneuvered. Hayley rammed her victory home by thrusting her plate at Jess—“Would you mind? Thanks.”—before leading Mr. Dunn off to the dance floor.
“Woman’s in it to win it.” Andrew’s description of Hayley ran through Jess’s mind as she set Hayley’s plate down on a nearby busing trolley with a rueful grimace. Hayley clearly felt the two of them were in some sort of competition. Jess wasn’t sure what the prize was—dibs on the next promotion?—but her reaction was both instant and instinctive: bring it on.
“Well, if it isn’t our favorite little lawyer.” An arm wrapping around her shoulders and giving her a hug wrung a smile from Jess, who had recognized the speaker—Senator Phillips—as soon as the first honeyed syllable had left his mouth, before she’d even looked around to see who’d been grabbing her. “How you doin’, sweetheart?”
“Just fine, thank you, how about you, Senator?” Part of the job was being charming to the clients, and as Jess kept the smile pinned to her lips while nodding a greeting to Mrs. Phillips and Rob, who were with the senator, she thought she ought to at least get brownie points for trying.
“We’re doin’ real good.”
Mrs. Phillips smiled at her and took her husband’s arm. “Look, dear, there are the Mulligans. We really ought to go over and say hello.”
“You take care,” the senator said, and Mrs. Phillips smiled again as they moved off.
Instead of following, Rob stepped so close that he brushed against her, which gave Jess a bad case of the creepy-crawlies and caused her to instinctively step away.
“Want to dance?”
Jess lost the smile. “Thanks. No.”
His hand slid around her bare arm just above her elbow, his fingers lightly caressing her skin. Jess almost jumped, and she jerked her arm free of his grip. Her plate tilted alarmingly. Having now lost her appetite, she set her plate down on the cart, too.
“Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“Sprained ankle,” she said, knowing he knew she was lying and not caring.
“You know, Jessie, now that you’re not my lawyer anymore, I was thinking we could go to dinner sometime. What would you say to, oh, La Maison?”
It was the most expensive restaurant in this very expensive town, with a waiting list a mile long.
Don’t offend the client. Jess could almost hear Pearse saying it.
“Not in this lifetime,” she told him sweetly. “Excuse me, I see someone beckoning to me.”
She walked away, because in that moment she couldn’t bear to breathe the same air as Rob Phillips. Without even knowing that that was where she meant to go, she headed straight for Mark.
“Honey, your face is all flushed,” Christine greeted her as Jess reached Mark’s side. That was the first time Jess realized Mark was still talking to Christine, and that Andrew was there in the group with Mark, along with the woman Andrew had been dancing with and a several others she didn’t know.
“That happens sometimes when I eat strawberries,” she lied again, carefully keeping it light, aware of Mark frowning at her in concern.
“Me, I’m allergic to snakes.” Andrew made a comical face. “One even gets close to me, and I faint dead away.”
The blonde he’d been dancing with giggled. “That sounds like you’re afraid, not allergic.”
“Yeah, but I like to think of it as allergic. More manly.”
“Dance?” Mark asked quietly as the blonde giggled again, and when Jess nodded he took her hand and pulled her out onto the floor.
“So what’s up?” His voice was low.
She had just turned into his arms. Even with her high heels, her eyes were on the approximate level of his chin. The solid strength of his body was absurdly comforting. Looking up into his hard, handsome face, she felt the knot that her stomach had twisted itself into start to loosen. As they moved to the music, she took a deep breath and let it out. She was beginning to relax again. His hand was warm and firm around hers. She could feel the imprint of his other hand in the small of her back.
Just being with Mark felt good.
“Rob Phillips asked me to dinner.”
“And you said?”
Justice Page 29