by Rick Acker
“Thanks for calling,” his father said. “They might have caught me by surprise otherwise.”
Kevin’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. His peripheral vision filled with static and his knees went wobbly. He fainted.
CHAPTER 72
“I just talked to the public defender personally, Jess,” Nate said. His voice sounded tired. “I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is that Sofia’s doctors expect her to make a full recovery.”
Relief washed through Jessica. Ever since the ambulance carrying Sofia had sped away two days ago, she had prayed for the best—but feared the worst. “Thank God! When will she be out of the hospital?”
“That’s the bad news,” Nate said. “Or at least the beginning of it. Sofia has a collapsed lung and damage to her stomach and liver, among other things. It will be months before she’s back at work, and longer before she has the stamina to take a case through trial. The office is therefore reassigning all of her cases. Brandon will be getting a new lawyer in the next week or two. He or she will then move for a continuance of the trial for a couple of months to allow time to get up to speed on the case.”
That didn’t sound promising. “Can we choose who Brandon gets? Will they be as good as Sofia?”
“I won’t sugarcoat this, Jess,” Nate said. “The answer to both your questions is probably no. That’s one reason Jim—that’s the public defender—called me himself. We know each other a little, and he wanted to basically apologize in advance. Sofia is one of their best, and it will be impossible to fill her shoes on short notice. Whoever he assigns is going to be scrambling to play catch-up. They won’t know the witnesses or the evidence as well as Sofia.”
“Or the DA’s Office, right?”
“Or the DA’s Office,” Nate confirmed. “Plus, Jim says his office was understaffed even before they lost Sofia. Whoever takes over Brandon’s case will already have a full plate.”
“Can’t we just wait until she’s better?” she asked. “I don’t like leaving Brandon in jail that long, but it’s more important that he have the best lawyer possible.”
“I asked Jim if that was an option,” Nate said with a sigh. “He said the judge won’t let this case sit around indefinitely, particularly not when there are other lawyers who could try it. Besides, the office will have other cases for Sofia to handle when she comes back.”
Jessica did her best to fight off panic and despair. “Is there anything we can do?”
“I’m not sure,” Nate admitted. “I’m working on something, but . . .” He sounded unusually hesitant and uncertain. “Well, I don’t want to say anything until I know more.”
CHAPTER 73
“We know it was Lan Long, don’t we?” Billy said.
Cole shook his head. “No, we think it was Lan Long. There’s a big difference in the minds of our friends back east.”
Billy rolled his eyes. “How can they not know? Don’t they have the NSA feeding them wiretap info and the CIA poking around in China?”
Cole spread his hands, palm up. “They say they don’t know anything more than we do. And we don’t know anything more than that those hits were professional and that these two guys did all of them. We can’t be certain that Lan Long ordered them. At least, not yet.”
“It’s true those guys Old Man Fang killed were scrubbed clean,” Billy said grudgingly.
Cole nodded. The men had no IDs or even wallets. Their DNA and fingerprints didn’t match anything in any database. The serial numbers had been filed off of their guns. Even their clothing was all new, nondescript items with the tags removed. Quantico had experts working on the bomb fragments, hoping to find some clues, but Cole wasn’t optimistic. These guys had been professionals—and very careful about not leaving evidence.
“I wish his aim hadn’t been quite so good,” Cole said. “I would’ve loved to talk to at least one of them.”
“You know they wouldn’t have talked.” Billy paused for a moment and shook his head. “Remind me to never mess with the Fang family.”
A chuckle rumbled through Cole’s chest. “They are formidable, aren’t they?”
“What do we know about them? Kevin Fang seems to be Nate Daniels’s mystery source, don’t you think?”
“The NSA thinks so,” Cole said. “But they’re being cryptic and keeping their cards close to the vest.”
Billy rolled his eyes. “Do they ever do anything else?”
“He’s an odd character. How many thirty-year-old tech geniuses do you think are still living in their parents’ house after they make it big?”
“Maybe the dad is his bodyguard.”
“He’d probably be a good one,” Cole said. “Career Special Forces with plenty of combat experience. He picked up a Silver Star in Panama and another one in Iraq.”
Billy whistled between his teeth. “They’ll hardly need police protection with him around.”
“Speaking of which, I’ve gotten calls from both the SFPD and the Pleasanton police. They’ve been hearing a lot about Lan Long and they think we’ve got an investigation.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Nothing that they didn’t already know or at least guess—that there is an ongoing federal investigation and that these attacks may have been connected to it. I told them I couldn’t say anything more, but that we’d appreciate it if they would hold off on an independent investigation until we’re done.”
“Did they agree?”
Cole nodded. “For now. All three of these attacks got media coverage, and the police chiefs don’t like not being able to say or do anything about them.”
“How long do you think we have before they start poking around in our case?”
Cole thought about Billy’s question for a moment, then shrugged. “Long enough, I hope.”
CHAPTER 74
Nate gave the memo a final read and saved it with the others. Then he printed it and added it to the neat stack in the middle of his desk. He thought he’d be coming back to his office again, but he wanted these to be easily findable if that wasn’t the case.
He looked at the clock on his computer. It was five minutes to two. It only took two minutes to walk to Peggy’s office, but it couldn’t hurt to be a couple of minutes early. Plus, he was antsy and didn’t want to just sit there and stare out the window.
The path to Peggy’s office took him through the lobby. He steeled himself and walked out into the hallway. Seven days ago, he had staggered into the reception area, ears ringing from the blast. He had found a charred, smoke-filled wreck. Debris covered the floor. Wires hung from the ceiling, and a broken pipe gushed water. Sandy had been dead, of course. Guilt stabbed at Nate. She had been a sweet, outgoing woman—and she would be alive today if it weren’t for him.
It had only been a week since the attack, but the lobby had been completely repaired—new paint, carpeting, and reception desk. The receptionist was new, but even she vaguely resembled Sandy. A visitor who hadn’t been to the firm for a week and hadn’t followed the news wouldn’t know anything had happened—which Nate suspected was intentional. Peggy would want to make sure the firm projected stability, continuity, strength, and resilience. The message to clients: Even a bombing won’t distract Bingham & Brobeck from handling your billion-dollar legal problem. He had no doubt that was the smart business move, and Peggy was all about smart business moves.
He reached Peggy’s office and was surprised to see one of her guest chairs already occupied by Ray Winter. Ray was the head of the firm and was based in New York. Nate wondered whether he had flown out specifically for this meeting.
They both stood as Nate walked in. Ray gripped Nate’s hand in a firm handshake. “Great to see you again, Nate,” he said, showing his perfectly straight and white teeth in a smile. He reached around Nate to close the door. “I just wish the circumstances were different.”
“As do I,” Nate said as they all sat.
Nate liked Ray well enough, but knew better than
to trust him. They had dinner together whenever Ray was in San Francisco, and Ray always got Nate’s input before making any changes that might impact the San Francisco office or Nate’s practice. Also, Ray had been sincerely sympathetic during Sarah’s illness and had made sure the firm supported the Danielses however it could. But Ray was a politician, from the toes of his perfectly polished wing tips to the top of his manicured gray head. That didn’t make him a bad person, but it meant that his loyalties were malleable. When Nate was bringing in millions of dollars in business every year, he undoubtedly had Ray’s loyalty. But Nate didn’t think Ray was here to pat him on the back for his origination numbers.
“It’s terrible what happened here,” Ray said, shaking his head sadly. “I’m surprised you’re back at work already. I’d be in therapy for months.”
“Work is my therapy,” Nate said with a small smile.
“I’ve noticed,” Ray said. “Your billings are among the highest in the firm, even though you’re working on a murder case in your spare time.” He paused, looked Nate in the eyes, and pressed his lips together in concern. “I’m not sure that’s good for you or the firm.”
“We don’t see how it will be possible for you to keep working on that murder case,” Peggy said. “You’re putting the firm—and yourself—at risk. One firm employee has already died.”
“We appreciate your commitment to justice, and we share it,” Ray said. “I don’t have to tell you how much time and money we devote to pro-bono work. But this is different. The firm isn’t equipped to handle this kind of case.”
“I know,” Nate said with a glance toward Peggy. “We talked about that when I took it on. That’s why I’ve been handling it on my own time.”
“If I had thought that there was any risk that this office might be bombed or one of our employees killed, I never would have agreed,” Peggy said, her voice sharpening.
“Of course not,” Nate said. “And I never would have asked you to.”
“So you understand our position, then,” Ray said.
“I do,” Nate said. “But I also understand that there is an innocent young man who needs my help. He needs it more than ever now that his lead attorney has been gunned down. I gave him and his mother my word that I would represent him to the best of my ability, and I will.”
Ray’s face hardened and he opened his mouth to speak, but Nate held up his hand and went on. “But I cannot do so here. I will need to devote much more of my time to this case if I am to have any hope of being ready for trial. And while I don’t know whether there will be another attempt on my life, I won’t put other members of the firm at risk. I have no choice but to leave, effective immediately if you wish. There are transition memos for all my cases on my desk.”
Peggy gasped, and for once Ray’s poise deserted him. He stared at Nate, bug eyed and open mouthed. “You’re resigning?’ he asked.
“You may treat it as a resignation if you like,” Nate said. “I would prefer it to be a leave of absence until the Ames case is complete.”
Peggy still looked stunned, but Ray was recovering—and Nate could see the wheels whirring behind his gray eyes. Nate represented at least five million dollars a year in firm income, closer to ten most years. Some of that money came from clients who would probably stay with the firm if Nate left, but some didn’t. How much fell into each bucket? And how long would it stay there? Nate wasn’t retiring; he was taking a leave of absence. What would happen when that was over? If Nate appeared at a competing law firm a few months from now, a lot of his former clients would leave B&B and move to Nate’s new firm. Also, Nate would probably be able to persuade some of the top talent on his team to defect to his new employer.
Peggy frowned and her eyes flashed. “That wasn’t the solution we had in mind, Nate. We have rules governing partner sabbaticals. You know that. A partner can’t simply decide one day that he’d like to take a few months off. He needs to apply at least three months in advance and have a letter of support from his OMP—me, in your case, which you seem to have forgotten. Then ExComm reviews the application and makes its decision.”
Nate nodded. “I do indeed know the rules governing sabbaticals. In fact, I think I helped draft them when I sat on ExComm. But thank you for the reminder. I think the rules work admirably in most cases. They do not, however, provide for exigent circumstances such as these. And where there is a gap in the rules, I believe the matter is decided by the chair of the firm or his designee.” He turned to Ray, who was absorbing the exchange with a carefully neutral expression.
Ray would be well within his rights to accept Nate’s resignation and have security escort him out of the building. In fact, that might be the smart decision. Peggy would like it, and she would be a valuable ally—and a dangerous enemy. Plus, letting Nate take a sabbatical without following the rules would send the message that the rules didn’t apply to partners who controlled enough business. All partners are equal, but some are more equal than others would be a recipe for instability and chaos. On the other hand, Ray would probably like to avoid losing Nate if at all possible.
“Those are all valid points,” Ray said. “But I don’t think Nate is really asking for a sabbatical. This sounds more like an emergency leave of absence—and we obviously don’t require ExComm approval for those. How long are you asking for, Nate?”
Nate felt the muscles in his stomach relax. He hadn’t realized he had been tensing them. “The trial in this murder case is less than a month away, but we’re going to request a two-month continuance. Allow two weeks for trial and another two-week cushion. I think four months should be plenty of time.”
“Would you be reachable?” Ray asked. “We might need to ask questions about the cases you’re handing off, for example.”
“Of course,” Nate said. “Each of those cases has a junior partner or senior associate who knows it well and can run it in my absence. But if anything comes up, don’t hesitate to call or email.”
“You wouldn’t be expecting your partner draw during your leave of absence, would you?” Peggy asked.
Ray gave her a sharp look. Cutting off Nate’s monthly compensation would be a petty move, especially since he’d get it all back at the end of the firm’s financial year, when partner income was calculated. Nate thought he could probably insist on getting his draw, but he decided to give Peggy a little victory. It might make life easier on other issues he cared about more. “I appreciate the firm’s flexibility, and I would happily forgo my draw if that’s what it took to make this work for everyone.”
Peggy sat back with a small smile on her face, and Ray looked relieved. “Thanks, Nate,” he said. “I’ll ask HR to paper this, but in the meantime, you can start your leave whenever you like.” He paused and extended his hand. “Good luck.”
CHAPTER 75
As she exercised on the elliptical, Jessica’s mind kept going back to Nate. Even after the attempt on his life, it never occurred to him to drop Brandon’s case. He did the opposite, dropping everything else so he could focus all his energies on getting her son out of jail. He was a good man, a strong and selfless man.
Most of the time.
She remembered the expression on his face as he told her about his relationship with Jade—the shame, humiliation, and self-judgment. The vulnerability. Then he took one look at her, said goodbye, and walked away.
What had he seen in her face? She had felt stunned and sickened, and it probably showed. Whatever her expression was, it had made him want to leave.
It had been exactly the wrong reaction. Once the shock of his revelation wore off, she felt more pity than anything else. He must have been more broken by Sarah’s death than she imagined. He needed compassion, not condemnation.
She vividly remembered the black loneliness she felt after Tim died. It was as if she were lost in a cave—wandering in endless cold darkness with no way out. Nate must have experienced something similar. Had his relationship with Jade been a desperate attempt to break out of his iso
lation and grief?
Maybe. She wasn’t shocked that he’d wanted physical companionship. But she was stunned that he’d paid an escort for it. The very idea was alien and disturbing. To be honest, she didn’t really understand what prompted Nate to do what he did.
Did she need to understand it? No, she realized. She didn’t need to understand everything about him before she could respect him—and what happened between him and Jade didn’t affect his ability to represent Brandon. That was all that mattered—for now, anyway.
Or was it? It couldn’t possibly have been a coincidence that Jade knew him three years ago and called him about Brandon’s case. She didn’t just happen to stumble across Nate’s name while browsing through court files during her free time. What was she up to?
CHAPTER 76
Kevin was starting to love the Internet of Things. The IoT was so useful on so many levels. Practically every modern electronic gadget had some sort of app—everything from refrigerators to security systems that could be controlled from their owners’ phones or computers. Every new car linked to a driver’s phone, and the phone was linked to the Web. Even pacemakers and drug pumps were connected to the Internet. And anything that was connected to the Internet could be hacked.
Security for most devices was rudimentary at best. It had gotten a little tighter after hackers infected millions of devices with a virus that basically turned them into a robot army—and then used that army to shut down parts of the Internet. Another round of security upgrades came out after WikiLeaks released a collection of CIA hacking tools that allowed the US government to spy on people through their phones and TVs. But even so, few people worried about hackers getting control of their refrigerators or smart TVs. In fact, most of them probably didn’t even realize it was possible.
As a result, Kevin had some trouble securing all the devices owned by him, his family, Nate, and Jessica. He even had to write some code because meaningful security software didn’t exist for some items. But he had no trouble accessing all of the security systems in the neighborhood and turning their cameras into an advance-warning network that would let him know whenever a strange vehicle entered the area and headed for his family’s house.