by Taylor Lee
****
Griffin glanced at his cell phone and grimaced. “Hell, that took them even less time than I thought it would.” Seeing Tara’s concern, he said flatly, “This is from Fitzpatrick, my New York attorney. Apparently, Charles Mason didn’t waste any time. He filed a motion insisting that the judge revisit his recommendations given that I’m apparently the prime suspect in the murder of Jia Yanlin.”
“Oh my God, Griffin. Please tell me that doesn’t mean that the judge might change his recommendations? Surely it will only postpone the decision.”
Griffin put up his hands in defeat. “I don’t know, Tara. Obviously, the judge will have to review the motion. My only question is how the hell did the news of the murder get to Mason this quickly? Christ, they just found Jia’s body four and a half hours ago.” He shook his head, a despondent gesture. “I don’t know what to say, Tara. Two days ago, I was flying over the moon. It truly looked as though I was going to get custody of my children. Even more important, you and I declared in words and actions that we are crazy in love with each other. I don’t know how my life could have gotten any better.”
He was quiet for a moment and then faced her. “What is so challenging, Tara, is how helpless I feel. Hell, make that how helpless I am. I can’t do a goddamned thing to prove a negative. And even I have to admit if anyone looks guilty of the murder, it’s me. Damn, even my own attorney and partner, Magnus Armstrong, is warning me that half the people in the company overheard my angry threats. He added that the problem is the only person who had a reason to kill her was me. Damn, everyone disliked her. I knew that and probably for that reason alone should have fired her years ago.” He tugged at his hair, tousling it even more than usual. “It was just that she was so damned efficient. And, hell, when it came to finances, she knew as much as Magnus and I did. She did the work of three people in half the time. And she would do anything I asked her to.”
Tara was horrified when the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Including buying clothes for your women?” She put up her hands and appealed to him. “Oh God, Griffin, I’m sorry. I . . . I didn’t know how close to the surface my hurt was. Please forgive me.”
Griffin snorted. “It’s okay, Tara. It’s like I told your father, Jia can even spread grief from the grave.” He added with a grimace, “All I can say is that I’ve never depended on anyone in my entire life more than I am on your father. I hope like hell that he will come through.” He shoved out a hard sigh. “I gotta tell you, it’s a horseshit place for an arrogant asshole like me, who thinks he can control anything that comes his way.”
Tara brushed at her tears and then stepped up to Griffin and reached for his face, holding it between her hands. “Please, Griffin, keep being that arrogant asshole. That is how you . . . we . . . are going to beat this horrible thing. You know that you didn’t kill Jia. And I do. And from what my father said, he doesn’t, nor Tanya nor Ryker—for that matter. You are correct. The team on your side is as powerful an advocacy clutch as you could have.” Swiping at an errant tear, she said with a teary smile, “And don’t forget me. I’ve taken on damn imposing powerful adversaries. Hell, I even planned to take down that arrogant Black guy. And we both know how powerful he is!”
****
“Hmm, I didn’t realize that five hours into a murder case, I’d already be visited by the Sierra Vista DA. What’s the matter, Zane, I’m not moving fast enough for you? Think I should already have the perpetrator in chains and fastened to the floor braces in our dungeon?”
District Attorney Zane Wilder smiled, the grin lighting his handsome face. “Now, now, Titus. Give me a break. Yes, I’ll admit, I like racking up the convictions as much as any district attorney does.”
Tanya snorted. “Especially a DA who plans on unseating the current governor in next year’s election.”
Wilder smiled at the fierce deputy. “Whoo-eee, it’s one thing to get on the bad side of the fearsome sheriff, but the deputy sheriff? His daughter, no less? I’ve got to check my balls—to be sure that they are securely in place.” He grinned at Ryker in greeting. “And as if the Trouble law enforcement team isn’t intimidating enough, you’ve brought in a former Delta Force Fibbie.” He winked at Ryker. “I can forgive your working for the Bureau, but damn, buddy, to this Navy Seal, a Delta Force operator is one bridge too far.”
Ryker smiled. “Guess the only thing we can do, friend, is to keep trying to sort it out over porn star martinis at the B n’ T.”
Titus waited until the two former special operatives finished sparring, then returned to Wilder. As Tanya implied, the tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed district attorney was the poster boy for a successful politician on the move. Titus conceded with a snort that he was also a hell of a good district attorney. Keeping his tone civil, Titus said, “I’m always pleased to see you, Zane, but like my suspicious deputy, it is a bit of a coincidence that you dropped in on us today. Could it be because we are dealing with a vicious murder of a beautiful woman? That publicity opportunity aside, to up the ante further, the prime suspect is as close to a Hollywood heartthrob as we’ve ever had in our cross hairs. And of course it doesn’t hurt that Mr. Black is also a wealthy guy who’s known for his arrogance and commanding personality.” Titus allowed his smile to widen to a sly grin. “Hell, Zane, he’s almost as much of a media star as you are.”
Wilder continued to smile but didn’t hide the edge in his voice. “In addition to all the attributes you mentioned, I understand Black also has a surprising relationship with one of the three most beautiful women this town has ever produced.”
With an effort, Titus responded evenly. “If you are referring to my oldest daughter, you are correct. Both about the fact that Tara and Griffin Black are involved and that their relationship makes our investigation even more challenging than it already was.”
When the district attorney started to reply, Titus held up his hand, stopping him. His voice was as cool as his expression was firm. “If you are concerned, Mr. Wilder, that my daughter’s relationship will in any way prevent my office from investigating this murder case as vigorously as we always do, your concerns are unwarranted.”
Wilder met the stern sheriff’s gaze and said softly, “My concern isn’t that you won’t pursue the investigation as vigorously as you always do, Titus. Au contraire. My concern is that your attempt to appear unbiased will compromise your judgment.”
Seeing the sheriff’s expression harden, Wilder sat back in his chair and thoughtfully stroked his chin. After a strained silence, he said, “To be specific, Sheriff Trouble, I’m here to suggest you might want to advise your ‘prime suspect’ that he would be wise to get himself a new personal attorney.”
Chapter 28
Glancing from Ryker to Tanya, Titus sucked in an audible breath and then broke the stunned silence. “Would you care to expound on that assertion, Zane?”
The district attorney shrugged and raised his hands in acceptance. “Perhaps, Sheriff, it will help if I recount a rather extraordinary conversation I had. Which, by the way, was unsolicited by me.”
Titus nodded and flicked an offhand finger. “Please recount.”
“I was surprised when Magnus Armstrong dropped in on me this morning. Uninvited, I might add. After attempting to convince me that he is a nationally well-regarded attorney, not merely Griffin Black’s attorney, it occurred to me that the obsequious man might have an ulterior motive for meeting with me. In addition to listing all of the prominent attorneys across the country with whom he is apparently best friends and colleagues.”
The district attorney paused for a long moment, then said, “I’m not often surprised, Titus. In fact, I may be one of the most cynical sons of bitches you’ll meet. But in response to my impatient request that he tell me why he insisted to see me, Armstrong caught me off guard. I’ll admit it took me a moment to respond. After he did a few dozen verbal cartwheels, I told him to get to the point or get the hell out of my office. At which time he indicated that he was here
on behalf of his client and asked if I might consider a plea for a lesser charge. Unintentional homicide, perhaps.”
At Titus’s wide-eyed frown, Wilder nodded. “My response exactly, Sheriff. I pushed him. Asked if Mr. Black wanted to plead to a lesser charge. He backpedaled, making it clear, at least to me, that the chances Black had sent him were as likely as me beating LeBron in a pick-up game of twenty-one.”
“What did you tell him, Zane?”
Responding to Ryker, the polished district attorney guffawed. “You’ll be glad to know that I controlled myself, Agent Thompson. With an effort. After all, it’s not every day that a suspect’s attorney asks about a plea bargain when I haven’t even brought charges.” He added with his usual disarming smile, “I told him I would consider his request after the sheriff referred the case to me with his recommendations.”
“I presume he had a caution or two in that regard, correct?”
Zane Wilder winked at Titus. “Indeed he did, sir. Indicated that I should know that the sheriff might have a conflict, and it would serve me well to see that someone other than Sheriff Trouble is in charge of the case. He went on to say that unquestionably the case will get national attention. That if played right, could ensure a national reputation for whoever gets Black convicted.”
“I guess he knows how to pull your chain, Zane,” Ryker said with a grin.
“Apparently, he thought he did, Ryker. Which, of course, is why I hightailed it over to meet with the conflicted sheriff.”
Titus rose from his chair and ambled over to his liquor cabinet. Perusing the collection of impressive bottles, he reached in the back and took out a bottle of Bushmills Irish Whiskey. He said thoughtfully, as if he were talking to himself, “There are times so auspicious that only the whiskey I grew up on fits the bill.” Putting the bottle in the crook of one arm, he gathered up four glasses and returned to his desk. Pouring a good two inches of the amber liquid in each of the glasses, he handed the first to Zane Wilder. “I presume you aren’t above sharing a toast?” He handed a glass to Tanya and then to Ryker and Zane nodded in agreement.
Titus remained standing and raised his glass to Wilder. “Thank you, Mr. District Attorney. And I hope you don’t run for governor. Hell, you might win. We need you here, sir. Never more than in this case.” He bowed slightly and said, “Thank you, Zane.”
Ryker and Tanya both chimed in with a heartfelt “Hear, hear!”
****
Griffin steered Tara into the sheriff’s office. He’d told Titus that of course he would come to the precinct, but Tara had insisted she come with him. He was surprised when the sheriff reluctantly agreed but asked that only he and Tara come.
Walking into the office, he wasn’t surprised to see Ryker and Tanya sitting at the conference table. He’d expected them to be there. He hadn’t expected District Attorney Zane Wilder. Shoving at the surge of anxiety that stifled his breath, he held Tara’s arm as he led her to the table. Her slight gasp and tense carriage confirmed that she was as concerned at the sight of the DA as he was.
Titus leaned over and kissed Tara’s cheek, then pulled out a chair for her. He nodded to the chair next to his. “Please, Griffin, sit here.” Glancing at the district attorney, he said, “I presume you’ve had the opportunity to meet our district attorney, Zane Wilder.”
Griffin reached for Wilder’s hand and shook it. “Yes, I’ve had the pleasure. Under different circumstances, however.”
Assuming his seat, Griffin took charge of the conversation. Turning to Titus, he said, “Do you want to tell me what this is all about, Sheriff Trouble? And yes, while the district attorney and I have met in casual, more festive settings, I trust you understand why his presence at this time is more than a little unsettling.”
Titus nodded. “I hope we can assure you that his presence is more than welcome.”
Griffin raised a skeptical brow. “I look forward to that seemingly far-fetched notion. Perhaps then my gut will stop churning.”
Titus sat forward in his chair, resting his forearms on the table, and met Griffin’s frowning gaze. “First, Griffin, and you too, Tara, thank you for coming.”
Griffin blew out an ironic breath. “Hmm, I guess both Tara and I assumed that your request wasn’t open for discussion.” His expression hardened. Not hiding his bitterness, he added, “In fact, I’m glad you called, Sheriff. At least if you are questioning me, it might take my mind off the fact that at this moment, a judge is rethinking my custody case. I will know as early as Monday if I’m about to lose any chance of having my children with me.”
Titus frowned. “I hope that won’t happen, Griffin.”
Griffin snorted. “To paraphrase the poet Longfellow, ‘hopes, like withered leaves, fall fast.’ ” He added with a derisive snort, “If anything is falling fast, besides the bottom out of my life, it’s my ability to convince the judge that my children belong with me.”
“Perhaps we can help.” At Griffin’s skeptical frown, Titus continued. “District Attorney Wilder brought me some interesting news. News that begs for more information. To cut to the chase, we need to look at your finances. I’d like your permission to subpoena your financial records.”
Griffin frowned. “What the hell, Sheriff? You don’t need a subpoena. I’ll open my books to you. For God’s sakes, I have nothing to hide. You can investigate anything you need to. I’ll hook you up with Magnus—”
“No, Griffin. This is between you and us.” He waved at the group around the table. “I want to do this by the book.” He added, “I’ll get a subpoena. But, Griffin, I don’t want anyone on your team to know what I’m doing. Do you understand?”
“I . . . I . . . No, Titus, I don’t understand. What are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything, Griffin.” As he glanced around the table, Titus waved inclusively, including Zane Wilder in his gesture. “The district attorney and I want our forensic accountants to go over your financial records. Privately.”
Griffin held his gaze for a long moment, then shook his head in disbelief. “I think, Sheriff . . . ” He hesitated, then said, “Let me rephrase that. If you are saying what I think you are, you’re wrong. It’s inconceivable that . . . ” Seeing Titus’s hard frown, he stopped in mid-sentence. He was silent, a deep frown marring his brow, then said with a heartfelt groan, “At least I hope to God you’re wrong, Sheriff.”
Titus shrugged. “We’ll see after our forensic guys do their work. In the meantime, tell me about your relationship with Magnus Armstrong.”
Griffin shook his head, not able to hide his agonized surprise. “Other than the fact that I’ve known him for fifteen years and am closer to him than anyone in my life except my Delta buddies? He and Jia were my confidants. They knew almost as much about my business as I do.”
Again, Titus shrugged, then blew out a hard sigh. “What we need to find out is if they knew more.”
****
The following afternoon, Magnus Armstrong sauntered into the district attorney’s office. He shot the receptionist a pleasant smile. “District Attorney Wilder asked me to come—said that he needed to see me.” He glanced at the door to Wilder’s private office and moved toward it.
The receptionist stopped him. “Yes, Mr. Armstrong, the district attorney does want to see you. He indicated he would like to meet in the conference room.” Pointing to the door on the left, she said, “You may go in now. Mr. Wilder is waiting for you.”
Magnus walked confidently into the conference room, then came to a hard stop. When he saw Sheriff Trouble and his deputy, as well as Ryker Thompson, his obvious surprise looked more like shock. But the color left his face when he saw Griffin and Tara sitting at the far end of the conference table.
He muttered incoherently, “I . . . I don’t understand . . . ”
Zane Wilder rose from the head of the table. “Ah, good, Mr. Armstrong, you are here.”
Magnus stood in the doorway and then stammered, “I . . . don’t understand. I thought this
was a private meeting.”
Zane Wilder said crisply, “I don’t know where you got that understanding, Mr. Armstrong. Certainly not from me. To recap, yesterday, you came to me and suggested that you might be able to convince Griffin Black to plead guilty to a lesser crime. Instead of aggravated murder, that of unintentional homicide.” He nodded to the empty seat across from Griffin Black. “But please, sit down.”
Magnus paled further, then seeming to gather himself, walked to the table and took the seat the district attorney indicated. He avoided looking at Griffin, rather turned back to the district attorney and said firmly, “Clearly, you misunderstood me, Mr. Wilder. I was merely testing a range of possibilities so that I could counsel my client effectively. I was doing what any good defense attorney does to better advise his client.”
“To the contrary, Mr. Armstrong, I understood your suggestion and at your instigation met with Sheriff Trouble and his team. Together, we met with Mr. Black and told him that we were going to subpoena his financial records.”
Seeing Magnus’s face blanch, Wilder added, “Mr. Black insisted that we wouldn’t need a subpoena, that he would open his books to us. He suggested that we meet with you, as you are as knowledgeable about Black Enterprises finances as he is.” Zane paused for effect, then said coolly, “As it turns out, Mr. Black understated your knowledge. According to our forensic accountants, you know more about his business than Mr. Black does.”
When Magnus merely stared at him, beads of sweat congregating on his brow and upper lip, Wilder handed him a sheaf of papers. “You may look at this report at your leisure, Mr. Armstrong. But to recap, our accountants found a series of discrepancies. Your ‘withdrawals’ began in small amounts three years ago and then grew to the rather astonishing sum of nearly nineteen million.” He held up his hand, stopping Magnus’s protest, and added, “You won’t be surprised that our accountants also reviewed your personal financial records. And before you protest, yes, Judge Taylor was more than willing to give us a subpoena for your personal finances.”