* * *
“I know exactly who you are and you can help me. First things first, though, you should know that I didn’t kill Art.” She must have seen the skepticism on my face. “You may not trust me, but it is the truth. I am being set up. I didn’t like Art. He was always a bit handsy, especially with younger actresses, but I wouldn’t have murdered him. There is something else going on, but I can’t figure out what it is. That is why I need your help.”
I did not trust this woman, but her words resonated. I knew it was foolish to think I could discern the essence of a person upon meeting them, but she didn’t seem like a killer. I thought back to the restaurant last night, those men in the hallway. They must have been talking about the case. If Amber was set up to take the rap, why put so much pressure on Asher to get her off?
“So, if it wasn’t you, who killed Mr. Crane?”
She sank back into the chair, deflating.
“I wish I knew. Art had a lot of friends, but he had made more than a few enemies along the way. But this is Hollywood, people talk behind your back at parties, leak stories to TMZ, they don’t blow your brains out in your office. I don’t know who did it, but I think it has something to do with the insurance.”
“Insurance? Like his life insurance policy? You think his wife did it?”
“No. The insurance on the film. Art had pulled together a lot of different pieces for this film that was just about to begin production. Now, with him gone, it is going to fall apart. They can’t do it without him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A few weeks before he died, I saw an insurance contract worth twenty million dollars. The beneficiary was some company I didn’t recognize. I tried looking it up, but there was no website, no information about it online at all. I was going to ask Art about it, but he was out of town and by the time he got back, I had forgotten about it. That kind of production insurance was not uncommon, but now I am worried that perhaps someone had taken out the contract with the intention of killing Art and collecting the twenty million.”
Money as a motive for murder made sense. But then again, so did more personal feelings. I didn’t get any sense from Amber that she harbored any kind of anger toward the victim, though. She was calm and reasonable. But the thing that made me believe her was that everything fit perfectly with what I had seen and heard with Asher. All except one thing.
“Amber, say I believe you. If whoever is behind the insurance scheme and the murder wants you to take the fall, why would they hire you the best defense attorney in the city?”
She sighed. Lines of worry creased her otherwise flawless skin.
“Getting me off was part of the deal to keep me quiet. I was supposed to take the fall, but they would pay for my defense and make sure I didn’t get convicted. Then I would get some money once it was all done.”
“So, what is the problem? Asher will probably win the case. Why do you need my help?”
“You’ve been seen with him in a…social capacity. And you are working with him. I think you might be able to get through to him.”
I arched my eyebrow at her, inviting her to elaborate. She obliged.
“He is in danger. The people who hired him apparently didn’t anticipate how thorough his investigation would be. He is getting close to finding out what really happened. If he does that, he could present that as a defense and this whole thing will come crashing down. These people aren’t going to let that happen. I’m worried that they are going to just kill me. Asher, too.”
I felt my stomach constrict into knots. Even though I didn’t know this woman enough to trust her, what she said fit perfectly with the conversations I had overheard that morning and the night before. Asher was in trouble. And he knew it.
Even if he didn’t really care about me, even if I didn’t mean anything to him, I couldn’t just sit idly by and watch him get hurt. Not if I had the means to prevent it.
“What can I do?” I asked the stranger sitting at my kitchen table. I had decided to trust her as much as she seemed to be trusting me. It was a risk, to be sure, but the risk of doing nothing and pretending that nothing was wrong was greater.
“You need to talk to Asher. Get him to drop his investigation. Just do his best to poke holes in the prosecution’s case and get an acquittal. But get him to stop digging. Please.”
I promised to do what I could, which seemed to be enough for her. And then just as suddenly as she had shown up, Amber Warner was out my door and gone into the warm LA afternoon.
Chapter 18 - Cora
I took a Lyft back to the office to pick up my car, which was still in the lot. Thankfully, the firm had given me a pass for the summer, otherwise I probably would have had to sell a kidney to pay for overnight parking in a downtown LA lot. I drove up along Sunset, trying to formulate an explanation that would make sense. Would Asher even listen to me? I wasn’t even sure I fully believed Amber, would Asher believe her words secondhand? As I wound along the curving road at the base of the Hollywood Hills, I felt a pit grow in the depths of my stomach, filling with anxiety and fear.
When I left his house that morning, I was resolved to never see or speak to him again. Yet here I was, driving right back to his house. I told myself that it wasn’t about my feelings for him. It wasn’t about his feelings for me, whatever those might be. This was an act of duty, giving a warning to a colleague, if nothing else.
But if that was the case, then why was my stomach buzzing with butterflies the size of sparrows when I pulled up to his house?
The sun was beginning to set as I came to a stop across the street from his house. I sat there in the car for a few minutes. I chided myself for feeling nervous and excited. I wasn’t going there to see him. I had walked out on him for a reason. I wasn’t going to be embarrassed by the fact that I had left so abruptly. I drew in a deep breath and let it out, then I stepped out of the car, and strode confidently across the street.
My first knock was not quite as confident, so I followed it up with a firmer, stronger rap on the door. I waited for a few moments, but nobody came to the door. I didn’t hear any movement inside either. I knocked again, louder this time. Finally, I heard footsteps approaching and a shadow darkened the windows on the side. The door opened.
Asher was dressed in a sweat-drenched t-shirt and basketball shorts. His hair was wet and bedraggled, but somehow still looked good. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his face was covered in beads of perspiration.
“Cora, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. Come on in.”
His manner was affable, pleasant. He didn’t seem to be at all concerned with the fact that I had left first thing in the morning and then just showed up unannounced. I stepped through the doorway and back into Asher Dean’s house. I reflected on how different it felt compared to the night before.
Walking past Asher, I breathed in the scent of his sweat, salty and musky. The smell triggered something in me. For a moment I was back in bed with him, feeling the weight of his body on top of me, the pressure of his cock as it pushed deep inside me. I felt a spasm, a contraction of the muscles in my pelvic floor.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
I shook my head to decline and to clear my mind of distracting thoughts. I followed him into the kitchen.
“So, what brings you here?”
I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised by his causal manner. After all, I didn’t mean anything to him, why should he feel uncomfortable? I took a breath and settled myself. I had a reason for being there and it wasn’t to lose my head over this guy.
“Asher, I had a visitor today. Amber Warner.”
His demeanor changed instantly. His face tightened and his eyes narrowed.
“What? Cora, you should not be speaking with the defendant. I can’t believe she did that. When was this?”
“Just a couple of hours ago. Asher, you need to be careful. She said that you could be in danger.”
“What exactly did she say?”
I told him everything that Amber had told me. He listened carefully, never changing his expression of intense concentration. He rested his chin in his hand and stared directly at me.
“And, Asher, I wanted to tell you, I overheard you at dinner the other night with those guys in the hallway. They sounded pretty dangerous. You need to try to get out of this case.”
His expression broke into a wide smile. He laughed lightly and stood up from the table. I was annoyed by the fact that he didn’t seem to be taking me seriously.
“Asher, please. You need to listen to me.”
“I did listen to you, Cora. Thank you, for your concern. Truly. But it is misplaced. I’m not in any danger, I promise. Now, did you need anything else? Otherwise, I will see you in the office on Monday.”
I sat back in the chair. I wasn’t going to give up that easily. I felt like his nonchalance was an act. I had to press him further.
“I won’t be coming in on Monday.”
“What?”
“I said I won’t be coming in. I am not going to be working with you anymore unless you promise that you will drop this case. I will not get involved or put myself in danger.”
“Cora, you aren’t in any danger, don’t worry.”
“Really? How did Amber know where I lived? If she found out, then those guys from the hallway, the ones who are paying you, they could find out, too.”
“Look, I don’t know why Amber came to you, but I can assure you that nobody is going to come after you.” He closed his eyes. He seemed to have realized he’d said too much. “Not that there is anyone who would be coming after either of us,” he added, but he clearly didn’t believe it.
He sat back down at the table. His shoulders sagged and he appeared deflated.
“Asher, why don’t I go to my uncle, maybe he could help?”
His head snapped up.
“No. Absolutely not. I don’t want to let this get out at the firm.”
I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. Seeing him vulnerable for the first time was disconcerting. He had always appeared so capable, so unflappable.
“Ok, fine. But I will help you get through this, somehow. I want to make sure you are going to be alright.” I paused, hesitating. I wasn’t sure I should say anything else. I didn’t want to confuse an already complicated situation. Maybe it was best just to focus on solving whatever problem was in front of us and not worry about other issues. But I couldn’t resist. I had to know.
“Even if I don’t mean anything to you.”
If I thought he had looked deflated before, he positively folded in upon himself now. He let out a groan.
“That’s why you rushed off this morning,” he said under his breath. He looked up at me and took one of my hands in both of his. “Cora, I am sorry that you overheard that. I was talking with the man who hired me for this case. They saw you at the courthouse and at the restaurant. I was afraid that they were going to try to use you as leverage against me. I tried to make it seem like you were just another girl so that they wouldn’t pay attention to you, so that you wouldn’t be in any danger. I’m sorry that…I care for you, Cora. I just didn’t want to see you in any trouble. I was going to explain it to you in a better way, but you left so quickly, I figured if you were eager to get out of here, all the better.”
It made sense, in a way. And he sounded sincere. I felt a warmth spread from my mid-section all through my body, releasing tension and relaxing my muscles. I wanted to reach across the table and grab him by his sweaty collar, pull his face to mine, and kiss the life out of him. I wanted to pull him on top of me right on the kitchen table and wrap my legs around his back. But I couldn’t, not yet.
I kept myself as outwardly composed as I could, even though inside I was a swirling, writhing mass of conflicting emotions. I couldn’t deny how he made me feel. I had never been with anyone like him. But at the same time, he had gotten himself into a precarious situation. Did I want to open myself up to him, knowing that he could be so reckless? Beyond that, how was I to know that he didn’t regularly associate with this kind of trouble? As a criminal defense attorney, especially one who so causally talked about never defending innocent people, he must spend a lot of time with criminals. Would I be getting myself into a situation I couldn’t easily extricate myself from? First things first, though.
“Asher, do you have any idea how you are going to get out of this?”
He smiled at me. His easy grin was betrayed by the tension around his eyes.
“Not yet.” He let go of my hand and leaned back in the chair. “The man who hired me, I had done some work for him before, early in my career. I took a big fee to get one of his guys off of a robbery charge. But I made a mistake, the guy went to prison. The man stayed in touch, always polite, always friendly. But I knew that he hadn’t forgotten. In his eyes, I owed him. So, when he showed up at the office the day Amber was arrested, I knew he had come to collect.
“What I didn’t know, however, was that bit about the insurance.” He stood up and started pacing around the kitchen. “Funny how things work out. Sometimes things that just look like chance happen for a reason. A regular defense case turns up insurance fraud.” He shook his head. “Like you showing up as my summer intern. I almost refused to take you on and now, I can’t imagine not having met you, having been with you. I don’t want to be pushed around by these guys, but I also can’t risk anything happening to you,” he sighed and leaned over the table. “I’m not doing it. I’m not going to go through with this case.”
“But, how, what are you going to do?”
“Go back to your apartment and wait. I’ll send someone to get you in a little while.”
He walked around the table and put his hand on my shoulder.
“Trust me.”
Chapter 19 - Cora
Back at my apartment, I couldn’t stop pacing the floor. I must have worn a rut in my carpet. The minutes crept by, interminable. Asher wouldn’t tell me what he was planning. I suppose he was trying to protect me, or something, but it just made me anxious and angry.
A knock at my door snapped me to attention. Asher had told me someone was coming, but not who or when. All sorts of thoughts ran through my head. Irrational fears about who might be behind the door. I padded over slowly and peeked through the peephole. There was a man standing there wearing the uniform of a courier service that a lot of the law firms used. He was holding a manila envelope and shifting from one foot to another. He seemed bored, distracted. I took that as a good sign that he was probably just there to make a delivery.
I opened the door a crack, not removing the chain.
“Cora Maguire?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Sign here, please.”
He handed me a clipboard with a receipt. I signed in the box and handed it back to him. He passed the envelope through the crack in the door and walked away without saying another word. He put his earphones back in as he headed quickly down the hallway.
I closed the door and opened the envelope. There was another envelope inside that felt filled with paper, but on top was a handwritten note. It was from Asher.
Cora,
I need you to deliver this package to Reyna Martinez. I can’t do it myself because that could cause the evidence to be thrown out. Just tell her that someone delivered it to you but you don’t know who it was. Destroy this letter. Wait at the DA’s office for someone to pick you up. He will ask you to use your phone to call his sister in Milwaukee. We will be together soon.
Love,
Asher
* * *
My head was swirling, but still I gathered my things, stuffed the envelope under my arm, and headed to my car. I was getting deeper into a situation I didn’t understand and into possible dangers that I couldn’t predict. But for some reason, I trusted Asher. It wasn’t just the physical connection I felt to him; there was something deeper. At the same time, I felt a sensation almost like exhilaration. Even if this was
a dangerous game, it was exciting to be a part of something real, something serious. I had always been watching from the sidelines, reading about things that happened to other people. I was in the middle of it this time.
I parked my car in the lot at the DA’s offices and walked through security. I looked up and down the directory until I found Reyna Martinez’s name and then went to the bank of elevators and waited for the doors to open.
A handful of other people filed in beside and behind me. They looked like cops. Big guys with serious expressions. Tense, alert, like violence on a frayed leash. I kept my eyes on the floor in front of me. The door dinged and I waited for the occupants to get out and then stepped in, the cops or investigators or whoever they were crowded in with me. Nobody spoke.
When the elevator reached my floor, I stepped out. None of the others followed me and I breathed a sigh of relief. I chided myself for being worried about something happening in a building full of police and prosecutors, but this whole matter had scrambled my brain’s fear center.
I opened the door to Martinez’s office and found her, resting her head in one hand, leafing through a stack of case files that towered on top of the desk.
“Ms. Martinez?”
“Yes?” she said without looking up from her work.
“I have a package for you. It’s about the Warner case.”
Her head snapped up. I placed the envelope on her desk and she took it in her hands. She began to open it, but hesitated.
“What is this, where did you get it?”
“I couldn’t say. It was dropped off at my apartment with your name and the case on a note. No sender, no other information. I haven’t even opened it.”
She inspected the back of the envelope, which had a tamper-proof seal.
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