Widows-in-Law

by Michele W. Miller

  Emily pulled out two hundred dollars. “My father died. He was just a lawyer, but something cray-cray is going on with his partner. I want to know why my father had an encrypted file.”

  “Your dad wasn’t a terrorist or anything?” Tabu took the money. “I can’t afford to get involved with some stupid Loli shit.”

  “You must have googled me, seen about him.”

  He took the thumb drive and wheeled away toward his desk. “Yeah, shit. I saw the obit. I cannot tell a lie. Lemme look at it.”

  He inserted it and Emily watched the unintelligible characters populate the screen.

  “It’s simple. A backup file for Whatsapp. I can create a clone account.”

  “Yes!” Emily exclaimed, so proud of herself for finding Tabu.

  “Do you have his phone?”

  “No. We never got the phone back. It must have burnt up.”

  “Oh, dude, I’m sorry. I need that.”

  “It’s okay.” Emily felt close to tears, crestfallen. She was always just a few inches from tears since her dad died. It didn’t take much for her to start slobbering and embarrassing herself.

  He must have seen it on her face because he gave her a sympathetic smile. “Look, you need to get hold of a device where he had the app.”

  Emily clenched her jaw, struggling not to cry.

  “Listen, I know how you feel. Both my parents died when I was a kid. So I’m going to help you. If you don’t have the phone, your only chance is his PC. Since he had a thumb drive backup, I gotta assume he had the app on it.”

  “So we can do something?” Emily asked, swiping away the tears that had managed to seep out.

  He handed her the thumb drive. “I don’t know what you think is on here, but take this phone and call me on my burner phone when you’re home.” He handed Emily a cheap black flip phone. “My burner number is the only one in the contacts. I can’t risk you calling my regular phone or getting caught out there on yours. Once you’re on your dad’s PC, I’ll walk you through what you need to do. Okay? On your honor, you have to destroy the phone after we’re done with it.”

  “Okay, I will. Thank you!”

  Tabu patted Emily’s shoulder before she left his room. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He turned to Hector. “You got good taste, little coz. Make sure she gets back to her train safe.”

  CHAPTER 19

  The Broadway local arrived just as Lauren reached the platform of the Brooklyn Bridge station half a dozen blocks from the gym. She sat in a bright-orange seat and her mind wandered back to its current puzzle. For two days, she had reenvisioned, step-by-step, Saturday’s trip to the Bronx. She had tried to think like Brian, to figure out what the hell he’d been up to with that building. She thought of illegal tax shelters, money laundering, speculation. Even though Brian had always stayed on the right side of the law when they were married, careful about attorney ethics and guarding his reputation, the one thing Lauren felt sure about was that Brian would never be an unwitting accomplice to anything. So she could only conclude that safety had become boring for him, and he’d been down with whatever shady stuff had gone on.

  It didn’t take much for her to make the next couple of logical leaps. First, shady deals were done by shady people who were often dangerous and could have killed Brian for some reason. Second, Steve was Brian’s partner, perhaps the closest person to him and certainly a shady person. So, third, Steve could be involved in whatever led to Brian’s death. Maybe that was too big a jump—but he did seem to be the X factor, the biggest change in Brian’s recent life other than Jessica, who Lauren couldn’t imagine as a thought-leader for Brian. And besides, Jessica was as mystified as Lauren.

  Supposing it were true about Steve being involved, Lauren thought, would that make him dangerous? Lauren couldn’t picture him pulling a trigger or lighting a match, but she’d known enough bad people to sense he had it in him to pull the strings that pulled the trigger. The main question was why. She didn’t even have an educated guess on that.

  Of course, if Brian had been murdered, maybe Jessica and Lauren should stop trying to figure out what was going on before they ended up in danger themselves. But they had to pursue Brian’s share of the legitimate partnership money, even if they stayed away from the real estate mystery. Emily’s future was at stake. And that brought Lauren to her conclusion: they had to know the whole story. Otherwise, if Steve were involved, they would be fighting him blindfolded.

  Then, as if in direct response to Lauren’s decision, just before she left the office for the gym, she’d received the most surprising call. “Lauren?” The voice had spoken quietly. Lauren had to strain to hear.

  “Yes.”

  “This is Peggy.”

  “Oh,” Lauren frowned. “I didn’t recognize your voice.”

  “Listen, I need to talk to you. I shouldn’t … but you need to know. Would you meet me after work?”

  Although mystified, Lauren jumped at the chance to find out anything that might shed light on things. Still, she felt a distinct sense of unreality meeting Peggy under these unbusinesslike circumstances. Aside from the funeral, she hadn’t seen Peggy for years and never outside of Brian’s office. Peggy had always been formal, nearly ceremonious, in the way she treated Brian and everyone else. Brian had trusted and depended on her completely. It was familiarity that bred indifference and contempt in Brian, and Peggy never got familiar.

  So now, going to meet Peggy was like a confirmation that, since Brian’s death, nothing remained the same. Relationships were shifting like subterranean plates of earth during an earthquake. Steve, from Brian’s friend to enemy; Jessica, from home wrecker to comother; and Peggy.

  And Carl. The thought entered Lauren’s head before she could stop it. She hated being bitchy to him, but when she saw him stumbling over his feet as he approached her, she felt such a strong impulse to catch the poor guy that she had to snap herself out of it. She’d blocked his number, so why was she still even thinking about him? Well, she was. And that was exactly why she’d ghosted him. She didn’t trust herself. She’d come to feel even more strongly that Carl’s wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly aura just didn’t fit with his evasiveness. He had a flip side, a strength, maybe a stubbornness. Combined with his evasiveness, it made her suspect that his shy, nice-guy facade was even more than a bullshit act to get laid, maybe more than his being married. He had to be “in the Life,” as they used to call it back in the day—a hustler, a drug dealer, or a gangster. Lauren couldn’t get past that idea, even though he had the cute, vulnerable thing down. Even killers loved their dogs. She could attest to that.

  It stunned Lauren that so much low-life shit seemed to be going down around her, sucking her in. She would have sworn her gangster-dar would set off all kinds of alarm bells before she’d get involved with a guy like that. For over twenty years, she’d managed to stay away from people who exuded even a whiff of danger, especially men who seemed too good to be true, like European settlers with smallpox blankets.

  The train pulled into the Astor Place station, and she found herself smiling at the memory of how Carl fed Mookie under the table. She thought about how Carl’s face lit up when he talked about his son, and how she felt during their brief goodnight kiss. Lauren’s chaotic childhood, life on the street, and Brian had left her deeply untrusting, a logical survival instinct after all that. But was she letting her imagination get away from her? She hadn’t been in a relationship in years. She used to tell herself that Emily wasn’t ready for her to begin anything serious, but deep down Lauren had always known that was a crock. It was Lauren keeping herself alone, thinking it was safer posing as Mother Teresa than risking a normal life. It was also Lauren who thought that any club that would have her had a hidden angle. And she was doing it again.

  She’d had her perfect opportunity tonight to at least ask Carl about the two phones, to give him a chance to explain. She needed to get
honest with herself. He probably wasn’t a gangster, and maybe he wasn’t even married. Maybe she was just afraid he could explain.

  ***

  Starbucks at Astor Place was constructed industrial style to blend in with the touristy East Village loft area. The place reminded Lauren of a cement waiting room at Rikers Island. She spotted Peggy at a table. Peggy smiled when she looked up and saw Lauren approaching. It was a tense smile that furrowed the skin around Peggy’s lips. Sitting ramrod straight, she wore a dark suit and a light green blouse, her coat draped on her shoulders. Her hair was cut into short brunette curls, swept back from her face.

  She stood and shook Lauren’s hand, something Peggy never did when Lauren used to visit Brian’s office. The handshake said that today they weren’t meeting as secretary and wife but were instead there to discuss serious business. Lauren lay her coat over the back of her chair and left to get a latte.

  Once she returned, Peggy leaned forward, anxiety in her wide, brown eyes. “I worked for Brian for thirteen years, came with him when he switched from Satlin and Satlin to Cohen’s firm. I’ve been at Cohen for five years, so it is my job … but aside from things like sharing a copy machine and microwave with the other secretaries, in my mind, Brian and I were separate from the rest. We were a team, and wherever he went, I would have gone.”

  “Brian appreciated your loyalty.”

  Peggy sat stiffly, all business. “Given my age, the latter half of fifty now, I’m going to stay on at Cohen. So, you can never repeat what I’m telling you. This is my last task for Brian … for Emily’s sake. He would have expected that much, and I expect that much of myself.”

  Lauren inhaled a lungful of coffee-scented air, unnerved and mystified. “Thank you.”

  “I came to you instead of Jessica because of the sensitivity of this matter. I don’t look at you as a petty person, so I trust you won’t use the information to hurt anyone innocent …” Peggy searched Lauren’s eyes.

  “I’m not looking to hurt anyone.”

  She nodded then continued. “I overlooked Brian’s weaknesses because they were none of my business. But you and I both know he did better in his business than his personal life.”

  Lauren smirked. “You could say that.”

  “I know you’re surprised at what Steve is doing—not calling back, not wanting to give up any of the firm’s money. But there were things going on between Steve and Brian that no one knew about. Over the last few months, I heard things, couldn’t help it, and it got to a point where Brian didn’t care so much, because he knew I would never comment on his personal life …”

  Lauren nodded and waited.

  “I believe what’s happening now has to do with Nicole.”

  “Nicole?”

  “Yes, Steve’s wife.”

  “Oh, shit.” Seeing Peggy’s let’s-not-lose-decorum frown, Lauren blurted out an apology. “Sorry, you took me by surprise.”

  Peggy waved it away. “I got a whiff of things early this year. Nicole and Brian were having an affair. They weren’t terribly discreet about it. Brian tended to get carried away when he became infatuated. He became careless at such times. Well, I don’t know how it happened; maybe Nicole told Steve in a moment of viciousness. I suspect Nicole is not someone known for kindness. But I overheard Brian and Steve arguing some months ago.”

  “Wow. That would explain it—but why wait until Brian dies to cheat his family? Why did they keep working together?”

  “Well, I’m no fool, I figured it out for myself along with the bits and pieces of the argument I heard. Steve inherited the firm from his father, but he didn’t have his father’s talent in court. It was Brian who was the brilliant one—attorneys all over the country looked to Brian as the best lawyer to try toxic tort cases. They always came to him, not Steve. Even Steve’s political friends who referred cases knew Brian would handle the actual work. Without Brian, Steve was just an ambulance chaser. Brian was his cash cow.”

  That made perfect sense. “Right.”

  “So basically, Steve sold his wife. He had to think about the planes he owned, the fancy cars, the expensive home in East Hampton.” Peggy sat up even straighter, as if passing judgment. “He was a cuckold.”

  Lauren thought out loud, “Now that Brian’s dead, Steve has nothing to lose by cheating him, and Brian’s not around to fight back.”

  “Brian never stopped seeing Nicole. Steve didn’t have the spine to sacrifice his business for his self-respect. Now he doesn’t have to. I wanted you to know so you could be prepared to fight. You don’t have to fool yourself that there was some vestige of friendship between Steve and Brian that will make him see the light and do right by your child. Their friendship was long over.”

  “Peggy, do you think Steve could have killed Brian?”

  Peggy pulled her coat tighter at the neck. “Would a man who didn’t have the courage to risk his business risk going to jail for the rest of his life?”

  “He could have paid someone to do it.”

  Peggy got up. “I only know what I know. In Brian’s memory, I needed to share it with someone who could look out for his family’s interests.” Peggy slipped her coat sleeves on and picked up her pocketbook from the table. “I wish you all the best.”

  Lauren rose with her, didn’t want her to leave yet. “A couple more questions, please, Peggy.”

  Peggy paused and let out her breath. “Okay.”

  They sat back down, and Lauren sipped her latte to buy time to think. She needed to ask the right questions.

  “Did you ever hear of someone named Jordan Connors?”

  “No, can’t say I have.”

  “Did you know anything about Brian doing real estate transactions?”

  Peggy frowned. “No.”

  “Did you see any files that were labeled with addresses instead of case names?”

  Peggy’s eyes looked toward the farthest corner of the room, obviously focusing on Brian’s file cabinets rather than her present location. “I did see a couple of files like that, within the last several months. I supposed they were asbestos cases. I never gave them much thought. I didn’t look inside because Brian never needed anything from them … I guess it is strange that they just sat there, never needing any work.”

  “Please don’t mention them to anyone. I don’t know what they’re about yet.”

  Peggy halfway smiled. “We never met, remember?”

  Lauren watched Peggy leave. Lauren sat for a moment and stared, unseeing, at the pedestrians on the dark street on the other side of the coffee shop windows. Beyond Lauren’s initial surprise, Nicole being such a lowlife didn’t shock her, not with Nicole’s Devil Wears Prada demeanor, as if everyone were a lesser species on the planet to serve her. What surprised Lauren more was that Peggy knew who Brian screwed yet knew nothing about the real estate deals. There was still no indication that the fire was anything other than an accident, but Brian’s life appeared more hazardous by the minute.

  So now, what was Lauren supposed to do with the information about Nicole and Brian? It was good to know, but for the time being, she would keep it to herself—for Jessica’s sake. Betrayal by a ghost you couldn’t even confront, Lauren wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. She smiled inwardly, amazed that she would go to any trouble to protect Jessica from having her feelings hurt. Would wonders never cease?

  CHAPTER 20

  Brian

  One Month Ago

  A cloud passed by Jordan’s Manhattan apartment windows as he spoke. It darkened the room and cast a shadow across Jordan’s face. Brian brushed away a thought that it was a sign of bad things to come. Walking from the window toward the couch, Jordan wiped sweat from under the brow of his backward baseball cap. For the first time, Brian noticed that Jordan was balding under the cap.

  Catching Brian’s glance, Jordan quipped, jittery. “Baldness is imperialistic �
�� like Russia during the Cold War.”

  “Your hair is falling like Eastern Europe?”

  “It’s weird how fast … stress, I think.” Jordan sat, turning deadly serious, his face grizzled. “I’m being blackmailed.”

  “Get out.”

  Jordan exhaled and lay his head back, taking in the ceiling. “If I don’t work with them, they’ll shut me down.”

  “Who?”

  “The bookie from Home Game, Jorge Arena. His crew.”

  Brian sucked hard on a cigarette, the end glowing hot. “How would they do that?”

  “DDOS attacks in the middle of the Super Bowl, World Series, or any playoff game. It’s the easiest thing to do. Just flood my website with requests to place bets, a million automated requests. Bottom line, my friend, it has become clear to me that we all live every minute of every day by the suffrage of strangers, every time we walk down a street safely, every time we cross a street and no one attacks us like in The Purge. Same thing online. If evil dudes decide you’re their target, that’s it. They already shut me down once. A shot across the bow. They wanted to show me how easily they could put me out of business.”

  Brian thought it through, imagining how freaked out Jordan must have been when that happened. On the surface, he seemed laid back, but he was really a control freak. Jordan had to be jumping out of his skin right now: Everything he’d created was at the mercy of a DDOS botnet. “How do you work with them?”

  “Take their side bets. Don’t bitch when I see their guys collude at the virtual poker table.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Jordan stared off. When he met Brian’s gaze again, Brian could see how the energy had drained out of Jordan’s face, his eyes wide and frightened. “They’re going to destroy all the good will I’ve built up. They’ll suck my business dry. They don’t give a shit about word getting around to my clients that my site can’t be trusted. Arena will reduce my business to ashes, cash out, and run like the hedge funds do in corporate takeovers.”