by M. K. York
No character witnesses here. He circled back around to try to get names on the workers who’d been on probation, but the guy got closemouthed about it.
One more thing to check back in with Ron Williams about. That was somebody he felt like needed a little more needling.
A few conversations that day had all gone the same way: Gina was kind of irresponsible, liked to drink, liked men, was a sad sack with a sob story. No heart of gold here, just a lingering sense of pity whenever he brought her up.
He called Mark as he got into his car.
“Hey, yeah,” said Mark as soon as he picked up. “What’s the story?”
“Not much. Nobody wants to come right out and call her a murderer. They all figure she must have done it by accident.”
“Great. That really doesn’t help us much as long as she sticks to the story that she didn’t do it at all.”
“Think she’ll plead out?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know whether I hope she does or hope she doesn’t.” Mark sighed heavily. “If it goes to trial, she could end up really fucked.”
“It’s better for you, though, right? Experience on the résumé.”
“Yeah, but believe it or not, I do try to do the right thing. I know nobody likes defense lawyers—”
“Well, according to Law & Order, you are pretty much the devil.”
Mark stopped dead for a second, then burst out laughing. “Goddamn it, I’m trying to sound noble here!”
“It’s very noble.”
“If I wanted money I’d be in private practice.”
“I believe you.”
“You sound dubious.” Mark was still chuckling. “Look, Lena’s going to talk to the client and see if she can shake loose a different story. If she admits to anything, we might be looking at a plea deal sooner rather than later. But if she sticks to not having set the fire at all, it’s hard for us to say it was an accident.”
“Yeah, makes sense.”
“So we really are going to be looking for character witnesses—I’ll get the names she wants from Lena, and I’m going to ask you to take a quick look at them.”
“You’re afraid she’s going to name her dealer or something?”
“You never fucking know with people.”
“Okay. Well, you’ve got my number.” Lukas’s fingers tightened on the phone briefly. “Call me whenever.”
“Do you have, like, business hours?”
“Not really. Whenever there’s work I try to be awake for it.”
“That sounds shitty.”
“Not as shitty as being a lawyer sounds.”
“Hey!” Mark laughed, the sound tinny as a train went by in the background, the ground rumbling. “I went to a lot of school to have a job this shitty.”
“So which one of us is winning this one?”
“I never have to pee in a bottle at work. Isn’t that a thing? I think I saw it on TV.”
Lukas paused for a long moment. Mark crowed with delight.
“It is a thing, isn’t it?”
“If you ever come along on a stakeout, you’ll find out.”
“Man, am I invited? That sounds like fun!”
“No, you are not. It’s fun for the first half hour. Hour nine, you want to murder somebody just to break the monotony.”
“Sounds about like my day job.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“You would, wouldn’t you?” Mark made a soft noise of disgust. “Oh, goddamn it, I have to respond to a motion. One of my other cases. Anyway, thanks for the heads-up.”
“I’ll submit one of my wonderfully readable reports.”
That got him another laugh, Mark’s voice almost lost as Lukas started the engine. “Yeah, you do that.”
He was headed all the way up to Westlake again—had someone to meet about a background check on a brother’s new fiancée. He nabbed a table in the upstairs food court and waited for the client, who appeared, like clockwork, five minutes late and out of breath.
He was sitting forward in his chair under the dangling glass lights of the chandeliers, pretending to take notes, pretending to listen intently, when the thought occurred and dogged him: he should look into the company. Not the people, not the individuals, not suspicious and oily Ron Williams, but the company itself. Corporations had a lot of options for hiding their sins, but those options were expensive, and Williams seemed like a guy who would not be fond of parting with his wealth.
After the client had finally, blessedly left, Lukas got up and walked over to the windows. It was a quiet weekday; no one around to hear or to care.
Mark picked up almost immediately. “Hey. Something new come up?”
“Not really. Just an idea.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What if this isn’t personal?”
Mark was silent for a minute. “You mean the crime?”
“Yeah. What if it’s not about the affair?”
“Seems like a stretch.”
“Bear with me, though. How much do we really know about this company? What they do, who they work with?”
Mark sounded deeply skeptical. “You’re talking some kind of corporate espionage scenario or something?”
“Or something. I don’t know what it would be, but look, the owner seems rotten somehow, and if you could show that the company was engaging in illegal activity, wouldn’t that help create some doubt? You don’t have to prove anything, just...suggest, right?”
“Technically? Yeah, I suppose. But you’re proposing, what, we investigate the company?”
“Yeah. I know it sounds wild, but—”
“Nah, nah.” Mark hummed softly. “It’s an interesting idea. Let me run it by Lena. If we do go with this, odds are we won’t have time to really get into it before the preliminary hearing.”
“I don’t know if the cops are going down the same route.”
“If they are, they aren’t going to want to tell us anything that looks exculpatory.”
“I thought they had to?”
“They have to if it’s clear that they knew it was exculpatory. They have some wiggle room in there and they like to use it.”
“When’s the preliminary hearing?”
“The—shit, the day after Veterans Day. They usually give it about a month.”
“Okay, so—let me know, I guess.”
“Yeah. I will.” Mark paused. “Thanks, Lukas. It’s a good thought.”
“If I come up with any more, I’ll share.”
“Yeah.” Mark’s voice had a smile in it. “Thanks.”
“Talk to you later.” Lukas’s palms were unaccountably sweating.
*
Mark called Lena after that.
“Are you in your office?” she demanded incredulously. “Are you seriously calling my office from your office?”
“I’m a very lazy man.”
“I’m getting that impression!”
“Look, I wanted to talk to you about an idea Lukas had.” He laid it out for her, and when he finished there was a long silence.
Finally she said, “I don’t want to like it, but I like it.”
“I knew it! I knew he was on to something.”
“I’d rather give it to Katie.”
“Doesn’t she mainly do criminal work, though? Lukas is closer to industrial shit.”
Lena sighed, long-suffering. “God. You’re right. I just don’t like that we’re cutting the lead investigator out on this.”
“It’s probably not going to come to anything, right? If it starts looking like it will, we cut her right back in.”
“That’s...not ideal, but acceptable.”
“So what do you think? If we can show something funky with the company, maybe raise some doubt about whether this was about where he was sticking his dick?”
“Yeah. Ugh. I do not love this scenario, just so you know. Her motive is pretty fucking obvious, especially with the wife saying things were getting better between the
m. Looks like he might have been thinking about breaking it off, she panicked, got drunk, got even.”
“I keep telling you, you have to stop trying to build the prosecution’s case for them.”
He heard a thump over the line, like she’d smacked the desk. “It’s my job to defend her, and if she’s guilty and she won’t tell me the truth, I have to try and figure out what the truth is so I don’t build fairy-tale castles in the clouds for her defense and then watch the prosecution cut my fucking knees out from under me!”
“Jesus. I know. I know.”
“I talked to her, by the way. Went by the jail this morning. You know what her deal is now?”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“She doesn’t know why she blew a .23.”
“Right.”
“How many times have you heard that one?”
“Too fucking many,” he said, fervently.
“Yeah. No idea how she blew that, swears she only had a couple, still swears she just got lost on the way back to the freeway, no ma’am she wasn’t at the warehouse at all that night after hours. Ten bucks says the prosecution comes up with something that puts her there. So if she thinks I’m that fucking stupid, if she thinks I genuinely don’t know she’s a drunk, how much help is she really going to be in her own defense?”
“Not much?”
“Not fucking much. But there’s good news.”
“Oh yeah?”
“She says the cops started the search of her vehicle before they arrested her, and without her consent.”
“Oh ho.”
“Yeah, so I’m filing a motion to suppress. This overlaps pretty heavily with your case, so you can help.”
“Happy to.”
“That’s what you say.” A noise on her end of the line was viscerally recognizable as a batch of papers getting tapped on a desk to even them out. “I think we’re going to get Judge Kline for this one.”
“Ugh.”
“I know. And it’ll be her word against the cops, but they’ve got shady-as-fuck records, so hit hard.”
“More than happy to.”
“That’s my junior attorney.”
“Any prep I can help with for the preliminary hearing?”
“Not right now. You file your papers, I’ll get mine in. I’m going to suggest that the cops are sloppy, they grabbed her because she was in the area, no real evidence to connect her. They’ll bring up the lighter and the gas can and that she was drunk and fucking the victim.”
“Doesn’t sound good.”
“Of course it doesn’t. It’s weak as hell. Tell your buddy to start digging. If he can come up with anything before the hearing, great. If not, shelve it for a while.”
“Yeah, I will. Thanks, Lena.”
“Don’t fucking thank me, thank the taxpayers for funding this ludicrous bullshit.” She slammed the phone down.
Mark smiled humorlessly at the receiver as he hung up.
At least it meant he could call Lukas back with the good news. When he tried, though, Lukas didn’t pick up. He didn’t leave a voice mail, just sent a text that said Lena says go ahead. I’ll send in the request.
He actually remembered to, that time.
*
“Hey, man!” Frank’s voice was loud, infectiously cheerful as he jogged up to them outside the food truck. “How’s it going?”
Lukas winced, but smiled back. “Good! Got another piece of work on that job for the State.”
“That’s cool!” Frank gathered him into what would have been a hug if not for the noogie. “Bro, you’re going to be rich.”
“I wish.”
“Hey,” said Nick, perking up, “is this that thing you were talking to those lawyers about the other night?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Good! A little networking does you good, right? Lila was saying that to Consuela.”
“Networking?”
“You know, shooting the shit with them. You were talking to them for a while, Consuela was getting hungry.” Nick grinned. “She was pretty excited about the cake.”
“It was good cake. I can see why she was into it.”
“Yeah, man, it was so good.” Nick kissed his fingertips dramatically. “It got me lucky, no lie. We should go again sometime.”
“Man, I don’t know, it was kind of expensive.”
“Yeah, that’s the truth.”
Frank chimed in, “Maybe you should take me, Lou. I’m a growing boy, got to get my calories.”
“The only thing growing is your fat ass,” said Nick.
“Whatever.” Frank flipped them off and went back to his plate of garlic fries.
“Spoken like a true Romeo.” Nick snickered.
Lukas snorted, shoving a handful of fries into his own mouth. “I can’t hang out long. I’ve got to get back to the case.”
“Oooh, aren’t you fancy! What are you now, Dick Tracy?”
“Magnum P.I.?”
“Rockford Files?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Lukas mumbled through a mouthful of fries. “It’s a lucky break, is all. I don’t want to waste it.”
“Nah, man, we’re just giving you shit. It’s good.”
“Yeah, getting some work has to be good for you. You need to make money, man. You’re still living in that shit-hole, right?”
Lukas picked up another fry. “It’s a historic shit-hole.”
“Of course it is.” Nick shook his head sadly. “Why, that mold has been there since Farmer Dibbles himself first settled this—”
“Shut the fuck up, Nick.”
The wind was blowing in stiffly off the water. For once it was actually sunny. Alex wasn’t there, off with the family, but Frank and Nick were both wearing their usual uniforms—heavy sweaters under rainproof windbreakers. They could have all been brothers, tall and fair-haired, Lukas’s hair lighter and longer than theirs, but still.
“Ballard for life,” Nick muttered as he crammed a strip of fish into his mouth. “Can’t beat the food out here, man.”
“Can’t beat it,” echoed Lukas. He didn’t have much to look forward to for the afternoon, going to the library and digging through publicly available corporate records. And a company as small as West Cascades didn’t have the kind of crisp, clean records he’d seen from bigger companies, so it was a nonstop tangle he was trying to delicately unwind. He wasn’t a forensic accountant. He wasn’t looking for finer details, just anything big, glaring, stupid.
Still, it was work; he was getting paid. And when he was done, he’d flag anything suspicious and send it along to Mark. Maybe the dedication he was showing would get him another job with the State when this was all said and done.
Or maybe it wouldn’t, and he’d end up working domestic squabbles over cheating and divorces and minor fraud forever.
Well, he’d made the bed. It was about time to get used to lying in it.
His phone buzzed. He fumbled it out with one hand, trying to juggle his fish and chips with the other, smearing grease on the cover.
It was Mark. What the fuck do they even ship?
Finding out today
OK, keep me posted
Will do
He put the phone away. Frank said, “Work riding you?”
“When doesn’t it?”
“Hah!” Nick snorted. “Good point. Never, baby. Never.”
Frank tossed his empty tray in a nearby garbage can and stretched. “Shit, I’ve got to get back to work. The guys are going to riot if I’m not around to keep them in line.”
“Listen to the big man.” Nick rolled his eyes as Frank flipped him off. “You got to stop letting them schedule you on Saturdays, man.”
“It’s money, and money pays the rent.”
“And the fish ’n’ chips.”
“Yeah, the garlic fries.”
“Did they do the seafood festival again this year? Did I miss it?”
“Nick!” Frank was clearly scandalized. “How the fuck did you miss it? I got roped int
o helping the Alvarsons with making their flyers for, like, three days.”
“Just luck, I guess.”
“Man.” Lukas shoved the last bite of fish into his mouth. “My parents made me take their cousins on a tour of the whole thing.”
“You! Tour guide? Shit, your parents are delusional.”
“I know, right?” Lukas gestured to himself. “I look like the kind of guy who’s going to be good at that? I was like, ‘Here’s the food. There’s the not-food.’”
Nick cracked up. “Go fucking figure!”
“And you missed it all, you lucky bastard.” Frank shook his head. “Next year I’m hiding under a fucking rock.”
“Don’t get too comfortable. I bet the Alvarsons will need help with that newsletter.”
“Ugh!”
Frank was still making a face while he walked away from them, waving back over his shoulder. Nick crammed his few remaining fries into his face, and they stood in companionable silence for a moment, contemplating the view down the hill toward the water.
“Hey, bud,” said Nick.
Lukas’s hackles were up instantly. “What is it?” he asked, keeping his face calm.
“So, you know me and Consuela—we’ve been trying to, you know.”
“Trying to—” The light bulb went on. “You mean kids?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Nick’s face was going a little red; he was staring at his shoes. “Well, uh, don’t go spreading this around or nothing.”
“Holy shit, man! Really?”
Nick slowly broke into a huge, beaming smile, cheeks getting redder and redder. “Yeah. Don’t tell nobody!”
“I won’t, man! Congratulations!”
“I wanted to tell you first, because, uh.” Nick stopped and cleared his throat. “Look, you’re, we all know you’re the classiest guy, right? Out of us.”
“Classy?”
“You went to school, man.”
“I dropped out.”
“But you went, and we’re just some dumb fucks.”
“What’s this about?”
“Shut the hell up, I’m trying to ask if you want to be, maybe, you know. Godfather.”
Lukas wasn’t aware he’d done it until he was holding Nick up off the ground in a bear hug while Nick struggled, laughing.
“Put me down, you big fuck!”
Lukas dropped Nick and realized he was grinning. “Of course I will, you asshole. Do I have to wear a suit?”