Lay Down the Law

by Carsen Taite

  “I’m trying to schedule an appointment downtown for this afternoon. I don’t suppose you’ll be free for lunch on your first day?”

  Peyton heard a knock on the door. “Hang on just a second.” She placed a hand over the phone and called out, “Come in.”

  Bianca stuck her head in the door and mouthed, “It’s time.” Peyton nodded and Bianca shut the door. “Lily?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m afraid it’s going to be a little crazy around here today. How about I call you this evening and we can make plans for something a little more relaxed than lunch?”

  “Why, AUSA Davis, that sounds like a perfect plan.”

  After Peyton hung up the phone, she waited a few minutes before meeting Bianca at the door. Today would be full of new people, new procedures, new information, but the thing she looked forward to the most was making plans with the new interest in her life.

  *

  Lily placed the envelope containing the trust waiver on the conference room table and glared at it. She hadn’t signed it yet and wasn’t sure she would. This trip to the Bradley & Casey law firm would be a key factor in her decision.

  She pushed the envelope aside and pulled out her cell phone. No new texts or e-mails had arrived since she last checked. Her call log showed her morning call to Peyton, and she saved the number into the contact she’d already created for Peyton in her phone. No sense pretending. She wanted to see her again and soon. She’d been disappointed they couldn’t meet for lunch, but she completely understood that Peyton needed to be focused for her first day on the job. She pledged to wait patiently for Peyton’s promised call.

  Before she put her phone away, the entry for the call she’d placed to Peyton’s mother this morning caught her eye. She’d dreaded making the call, but Helen Davis acted like the fact that her bank had returned the check for the Davis family’s donation to Cattle Baron’s was nothing to be concerned about. It was a large donation. Maybe the bank had flagged the account to check for fraud. Helen said she’d talk to the bank and get replacement funds to the charity by the end of the week. Lily had considered mentioning it to Peyton, but she hadn’t wanted to waste their precious few minutes of conversation on what was probably a silly accounting error.

  The door to the conference room opened, and in strode a tall, elegant woman with waves of auburn hair and friendly emerald green eyes. Lily stood and they shook hands.

  “Good morning,” the woman said. “I’m Morgan Bradley and you must be Lily Gantry. Nice to meet you.” She motioned for Lily to sit and settled into a chair.

  “Nice to meet you too. I appreciate you seeing me on short notice.”

  Morgan smiled. “Happens a lot in my line of work. Tell me what I can do to help you.”

  Lily pushed the envelope across the table, glad to be rid of the offensive piece of paper, even if the respite was only temporary. “I need to know if this would hold up in court.”

  She watched as Morgan Bradley scanned the document. Morgan had come highly recommended by one of Courtney’s friends, Aimee Howard. Lily knew plenty of lawyers, but they were all big firm types, sure to have connections or conflicts with Gantry family business. She wanted to explore her options, but she wasn’t willing to disclose family secrets to get answers. Morgan and her partner had their own small boutique firm and, although they were well known for their work defending high profile defendants, they wouldn’t run in the same stuffy, gossipy circles as Nester and his cronies.

  Morgan set the paper down and took a sip of water. Her eyes were kind, but her words were hesitant. “You do realize that my specialty is criminal defense? I think the last time I had to learn anything about estate law, it was because one of my clients was accused of killing his mother to inherit her pristine 1927 Model T.”

  Lily nodded. “I know. I just thought maybe you could point me in the right direction.” She fixed Morgan with a stare. “Discretion is crucial.” Surely, Morgan knew who she was, who her family was.

  Her serious look signaled she got it. “I understand.” She stood. “Wait here for just a minute.”

  When Morgan left, Lily took a moment to survey the conference room. Accolades for the firm decorated the walls, but they were interspersed with soft touches like original paintings by a well-known local artist and a beautiful vase of Gerbera daisies. She felt welcome and safe here, not at all like she needed to be on guard against the sharks her family usually dealt with.

  A few minutes later, the door opened and Morgan entered with another woman. “Lily, this is Erica Osten. She recently joined our office. In her former life, she practiced with one of the foremost estate and trust firms in Austin.”

  Lily sized up the new lawyer. Erica looked young, but she decided that might be due to the enthusiastic look in her eyes and not her actual age. She was short, but not petite. Sturdy, like a bulldog. Oh well, she had to trust someone to give her the answers she needed. She met Morgan’s questioning look and nodded. Morgan and Erica sat at the table.

  “Morgan gave me an idea of what you’re looking for,” Erica said. “Do you have a copy of the original trust?”

  “Not with me, but I’m sure I can get one.” Lily ignored the voice in her head that told her it might be more difficult than she was making out. “I should’ve known you would want to see that as well.”

  Erica reached for the paper on the table between them. “Not a problem. I imagine being asked to sign away your rights robbed you of good sense.”

  Morgan cleared her throat and Erica shook her head. “Sorry about that,” she said. “I’ve been told a lack of tact is my biggest weakness.”

  “There are worse things,” Lily said. Erica’s honesty was refreshing. How different from the teams of attorneys that kowtowed to her father, always scared to say the wrong thing and risk him hiring a new firm to spend all his money. “I’ve always known I was adopted. It was kind of hard to hide the fact since I look nothing like my lily white parents, name notwithstanding.” She laughed at the irony and was pleased to see Morgan and Erica laugh with her.

  “My parents love me and they’ve given me everything I’ve needed or wanted. I’ve never felt like anything other than a Gantry, but the last few years, I’ve had nagging thoughts that I might like to know more about my own heritage. My mother died giving birth to me, and she told the nuns my father had been killed several months before I was born, but surely there are others, cousins, aunts, uncles.”

  “Have you taken any steps to find out more?” Morgan asked.

  “No, although the possibility has always been in the back of my mind. And then this request took me completely off guard.” She leaned in. “Make no mistake, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the Gantrys, but the knowledge I may have other family out there has always tugged at me. Even if I decided not to do anything about it, the decision should be mine, not to be made under duress.”

  “Perfectly reasonable,” Morgan said. “Erica, what do you think?”

  “Restrictive covenants like this are not unusual, but they are often challenged and with a great measure of success, but often at great cost. Any idea why this is just now coming up? I assume you’ve had access to the trust for some time now?”

  “Is that your way of saying I look old?” Lily watched Erica’s frown and then laughed to ease the tension. “I’m kidding. You’re right. I do think the timing is random, but I can’t think of any reason to think it’s particularly strange. I’ve been away since college and only recently returned to Dallas. Maybe it was just easier to wait until I moved back home to get me to sign the papers.”

  Erica’s frown didn’t dissipate, and Lily started to question her own logic. She’d had access to her portion of the trust for several years, although she hadn’t touched a dime. If she had access to the money, surely the family lawyers could have arranged a way for her to sign what Nester and her father now insisted was necessary paperwork. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m making too much of this. I don’t care about the money, but it
’s not just me that could be affected if I don’t sign.”

  Morgan reached a hand across the table and squeezed her arm. “Lily, what do you want?”

  Lily met her eyes and saw strength and kindness reflected there. She didn’t have a clue what she wanted, but she did know that she wasn’t ready to close any doors. “I suppose I just want to know I have options.”

  “Then I suggest we give you some. Erica, what should we do next?” Morgan turned to her associate and Lily followed her glance, hopeful.

  Erica made a couple of notes on her pad and then placed both hands on the table. “First thing I’ll need is a copy of the original trust. Shouldn’t be difficult for you to get since you’re a beneficiary. Once I have that, I’ll be in a better position to assess your options.”

  “Thank you. I’ll get the paperwork to you this week.” Mission accomplished, Lily pushed back from the table and stood. “I appreciate your time.”

  Erica stood and shook her hand, but Morgan remained seated. In response to Lily’s questioning glance, she said, “Maybe while you’re here, we should talk about the other part of this.”

  “Excuse me?” Lily was genuinely confused until she realized Morgan was probably talking about payment of fees. She’d just assumed she would be billed. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She reached into her purse. “Is a personal check okay?”

  Morgan shook her head and smiled. “No, no. This was a simple consult. You don’t owe us anything unless we determine we can actually help you. And that’s what I wanted to talk about. We have a couple of very accomplished private investigators on call. If you’d like to find your mother’s relatives, we can help you.”

  Lily reached out a hand to steady herself against the table. She hadn’t come here with the intention of starting down a path to her past, but she had to admit she’d always been curious. More than curious, she’d always harbored hope that someday, someone who looked like her would show up on her doorstep and announce they’d been looking for her all this time. She and this person would embrace and then spend hours talking about memories missed and future plans to stay in each other’s lives. Realistic? Probably not, but having the possibility dangled in front of her was sorely tempting. Should she give in?

  *

  Hershel Gellar spent way too much time talking about the good work of the task force. His eyes lit up and his voice got faster as he all but salivated at the opportunity to take down the Cartel, or at least the branch that had wormed its way into the regular lives of the good citizens of North Texas. About halfway through his self-serving speech, Peyton glanced around the room, assessing her team. Dale, dressed in jeans and boots was seated next to Agent Dunley. On the other side of the table, Bianca was flanked by ATF Agent Mary Lovelace, and Raphael Martinez, a Texas Ranger. They all looked bored by Hershel’s speech. Later she’d be leading them, but today was about reporting in on their work so far and charting a direction for the future.

  Finally, Hershel left the room, apparently satisfied his cheerleading skills had done their work. Peyton didn’t assume his place at the front of the room, she didn’t even stand, but she did take command.

  “Okay, we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us. Luckily, we have a lot of resources. I know you all have other pending cases on your plate, but I’m counting on every one of you to make our work your first priority. Do I have your commitment?”

  She fixed each one of them with a stare and returned their nods with one of her own. “Let’s get started. Dale, any new developments on the trailer?”

  Dale didn’t meet her eyes, but she addressed the rest of the group. “Matter of fact, I got a report this morning. The trailer’s been reported stolen.”

  “Who reported it?” Peyton asked. The last information she had was that the trailer had been scrubbed of identifying information, and they’d decided it wasn’t likely they were going to find out who owned it.

  “Rose Construction. Rose is an outfit out of El Paso. They specialize in building oil rigs.” Dale looked around the room. “Anyone want to guess the name of their parent company?”

  Dale’s comment was met with smiles and nods from everyone in the room, but Peyton shook her head, left out of the inside joke. “Anyone care to fill me in?”

  Bianca spoke up. “We just started working on an angle last month. It’s in the early stages, and I imagine it’ll take a while for the forensics team to run it down, but we think we have a good lead on how the Zetas are laundering their money.”

  Peyton shook her head. “That was clear as mud. Who really owns the trailer and what do they have to do with the Zetas?”

  “Rose Construction is a division of Gantry Oil. The FBI has been investigating Cyrus Gantry’s company on the sly for a while based on a tip from someone on the inside who claims he may be defrauding investors. But lately we’ve come to think the fraud might run deeper than that—maybe the funny financials are a result of the company funneling money from the Zetas’ drug and gun sales.”

  Bianca was still talking, but Peyton heard only a strong buzz that had started the moment she’d heard the name Cyrus Gantry. Peyton stared down at her notes. She’d written and circled the words Rose, Cyrus, and Gantry. If she had any thoughts that Bianca was talking about a different Cyrus Gantry, the name Rose stopped her cold. She could hear Lily’s voice as clear as if she were standing right there in the room. “My mother’s name is Rose and it suits her perfectly—strong, but sometimes thorny.”

  She looked up and realized Bianca was no longer talking. The room was quiet and everyone was looking at anything but her, like they didn’t want to draw attention to the fact she’d checked out of the conversation. The last thing she needed was to exhibit any weakness. She’d figure out the implications of what Bianca had said later, but now it was time to grasp the reins and see where this lead. She stood.

  “I’d like a report from everyone by end of day on what you’ve been working on. Include any linked cases. As for the trailer, it doesn’t make sense the company would report it stolen if they were involved, especially since someone went to great lengths to make sure we couldn’t identify it. Either they didn’t know it was being used to transport illegals or they’re trying to cover up their involvement. We need to find out which one it is and find out right away.” She turned to Bianca. “Come with me.”

  She stalked off to her office, Bianca walking behind her. She’d wanted to spend some time with Bianca this afternoon and get some insights on the rest of the team members, especially Dale Nelson who treated her with thinly-veiled contempt, but the bomb Bianca had just dropped sent her spinning in a different direction. She waited until they were both inside with the door shut before speaking. “I assume Mr. Gellar knows your theory about the connection between Gantry and the Zetas?”

  Bianca ducked her head. “He knows we’re looking at Gantry for fraud. The other part is still in the early stages. I’ve been working on it with one of the agents in the FBI fraud unit, but I didn’t want to bother Mr. Gellar with it until we had something more concrete.”

  Peyton’s blood boiled. “But you thought it was okay to blurt it out in front of a bunch of agents looking for blood? It’s one thing to look into a little white-collar crime, but you’re saying one of the most successful businessmen in Dallas may be in bed with a bunch of drug-dealing, murdering thugs. You ready to have that rumor show up on the front page of tomorrow’s paper?”

  Bianca’s face was bright red. Peyton took a breath and considered whether she’d gone too far, motivated by the possibility that Lily’s father was a target in a heinous crime. Her next words were gentler, but measured.

  “I promise we will follow up on every lead, no matter where it takes us, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned after a few years in Beltway, it’s to have all your ducks in a row before you come out shooting. Now, go and get me whatever you’ve got to back up your theory.”

  Peyton walked behind her desk, sat down, and picked up the phone. Bianca took the signal and left, shutting
the door behind her. As soon as it was closed, Peyton took a deep breath while she tried to stave off the nagging feeling of dread brought on by all the talk of Lily’s family business. She punched in the numbers and waited for the call to connect. “It’s Peyton. We need to talk.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Lily checked her watch. Eight o’clock and still no call from Peyton.

  “You have a hot date?” Courtney asked.

  “Afraid not. Just you, me, and a thousand thank-you notes.”

  They’d met at the Cattle Baron offices with a couple of interns to begin the task of handwriting thank-you notes to all of the donors for the event. They’d been at it for hours, and the time crawled by as Lily hoped, with every passing moment, that a call from Peyton would break the monotony.

  “Anything to do with Zach’s gorgeous sister? I heard she took you horseback riding yesterday.”

  “Who says we live in a big city? You’d think the way word gets around that we lived in the sticks.”

  Before Courtney could fire off a reply, Lily’s cell phone skittered across the table and she pounced on it. “Hello?” When Nester started talking, she sagged.

  “I was hoping I could come by and pick up the signed document we discussed last week,” he said.

  “I’m not at home right now,” she replied, stalling for time since she wasn’t prepared with a ready excuse for the delay. “You’re working late.”

  “Always do. How about tomorrow? I’ll buy you lunch at the club.”

  The last thing she wanted to do was share a meal with Nester where she’d have to spend at least two hours and several bourbons listening to him drone on about how much he did for the family. As she contemplated her options, she heard the beeping that signaled she was receiving another call. She pulled the phone away from her ear, but the listing read No Caller ID. Hoping it was Peyton, she rushed to get Nester off the phone. “I’d rather come to the office. I’ll call you tomorrow when I have a better idea about my schedule. Okay?”