James sighed. “What do you want, Keegan?”
“What I always want. Throw me some crumbs and I’ll give you a pumpkin.”
After a quick look around to ensure they couldn’t be overhead, James capitulated. “Rider is connected to both Garcia and Wood. We have his prints on baggies found at each scene.”
Keegan finished his cigarette and dropped the butt on the ground. “Tell me something I don’t know. I gave you that lead.”
James shrugged. “We might be dealing with a new type of illness. Something like SARS. I don’t have anything conclusive from the pathologist yet, but the coroner is concerned. He’s put a team on it as well.”
Keegan pulled out another cigarette. “I can’t write that story. It will cause widespread public panic and heads will roll. Mine included.”
“I held up my end of the bargain and you’re walking a thin line. Someone must have tipped off Rider because he has mysteriously disappeared.”
“Are you suggesting I’m playing both sides?” Keegan raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Although you may be disappointed to hear it, I don’t have a death wish.”
“Where is he?”
Keegan blew a wisp of smoke. “All I’ve turned up is a dead end.”
“Dammit, Keegan. If I have to drag you kicking and screaming into the station to make you talk, I will.”
Keegan narrowed his eyes. “You won’t have to, my friend. I’ll be on television giving a press conference in which I tearfully name all my confidential sources.” He locked gazes with James. “Are we done with the posturing?”
James sighed. He and Keegan had played this game for years. Although he hated to admit it, Keegan had his ear to the ground and was as comfortable with the underworld as he was with the police. Their arrangement had brought many criminals to justice and raised Keegan’s profile as a star reporter. Everyone was happy.
“Could be a new street drug.”
Keegan’s eyes snapped to his. “Now you have my attention. That makes more sense if Rider was involved.”
James shrugged. “It’s all I have.”
Keegan leaned in close and lowered his voice. “I’ve heard he likes swimming.”
“More.”
“With the fishes.”
Damn. His key witness was dead.
Keegan glanced over James’s shoulder and smiled. “Look, there’s your brother.”
James turned to see Mark entering the courthouse. “He’s my friend, not my brother.”
“That’s not what I heard. Beat cop and single dad saves a bad-ass kid from the drugged out pimp dealer who killed his crack-head mother. Gets him off the streets. Raises him alongside his son as his own.”
“He wasn’t a bad ass kid,” James snapped. “He had principles. He went looking for the dealer to avenge his mother’s death, but he was only twelve years old. The dealer tried to force him to be a drug mule to pay off his mother’s debt. He refused. Dealer slit his throat and left him to die.”
Keegan continued to watch Mark until the courthouse door slammed behind him. “You might want to remind him of those principles. Sometimes they get lost when temptation comes calling. I met his little temptation last week. Big blue eyes, long, silky chestnut hair. I would have asked her out, but I don’t like swimming.”
“Leave them alone, Keegan.”
Keegan laughed. “I leave everyone alone unless there’s a story to be told. I love a good story.”
Chapter Thirteen
Katy cringed when yet another tree branch scraped along the side of her SUV. Did she have the right address? It was hard to imagine anyone used the narrow, overgrown driveway with any frequency—unless Terry Silver didn’t care about the paint on his vehicles. Or his shocks. The repairs to her vehicle from this little venture were going to eat up most of her monthly slush fund.
Damn Steven. His child support payments were always late, making it difficult for her to manage the monthly finances. But that was Steven. Totally unreliable. He didn’t even need the money. He had rented a small two-bedroom apartment in South Granville near the hospital. He drove an old Volvo. He didn’t own any man toys and he bought nothing for the kids. Her salary paid the bills, but with the sizeable mortgage on the house, she wasn’t left with much at the end of the month. Once she made partner, though, her salary would triple. She could hardly wait to be free of Steven’s financial noose.
She parked in front of a small, run-down house with an incredible view of English Bay and the North Shore. Siding lay in broken pieces on the ground and exposed wooden patches dotted the walls and roof like open wounds. What did he do when it rained?
Properties here in Kitsilano were exorbitantly priced, and often homes were passed down through families reluctant to sell their little piece of paradise. Silver’s home must be one of those. Too expensive to maintain, but too precious to sell.
At least he had agreed to see her. Through the coughing and wheezing on the phone, she understood Terry had been told he only had a few weeks left to live, and he had something to get off his chest. Something he said would help Martha and maybe others as well. But he had refused to talk over the phone. What was it with people and phones these days?
Katy picked her way over the muddied drive and headed up a stone path to the wooden porch. A rusted lawnmower, broken flower pots and an old swing set were scattered over the grass. Did he have children? If so, they must be grown and gone.
She knocked on the screen door, startling when it swung open of its own accord. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside and called for Terry. No answer. She took a moment to adjust to the gloom. The smell of rotten food and stale air, sickly sweet and pungent, turned her stomach. She gave one last, lingering glance at the door behind her before walking down the hallway. Such a tiny little house. The kitchen might have been cozy with its glassed-in breakfast nook and spectacular view, but the piles of dirty dishes, spilled food and ecstatic cockroaches took away from the ambiance.
No Silver. She looked in the living room and peeked into the bathroom with its old-fashioned, chain-pull toilet and rusted sink, then she headed for the bedroom.
Light flooded into the tiny wood-paneled room. She turned and saw a man asleep on the bed, his covers pulled up to his chin.
“Mr. Silver?” Katy placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. A moment later, her brain registered the cold skin, the brown stain across the pillow and the small black hole in his forehead.
Dead. Shot. Gun.
Katy screamed and ran for the door, fumbling in her purse for her phone. Once outside she called nine-one-one and then locked herself in her car while she waited for the police to arrive. Her heart pounded furiously and her hands shook.
Who would shoot a dying man?
Ten minutes later the police arrived in a cacophony of sirens, shouts and banging doors. A police officer knocked on her window.
“You the lady who called this in?” he shouted through the glass.
Teeth chattering, Katy nodded at the young, blond police officer and lowered the window.
He patted her hand. “You just wait right here. One of the homicide detectives will be here in a minute to talk to you.”
She rested her head on the steering wheel as she listened to the hustle and bustle outside. Shouts about contaminating the scene and securing the area filtered through her window, but her mind remained numb to everything but the cold press of wood veneer on her forehead.
“Katherine Sinclair…Katy?”
Katy took a deep breath and looked up at the face in the window. A familiar face—rough, dangerous. Her tension eased the tiniest bit. He hadn’t been overly friendly at the police station but at least she knew him.
“Detective Hunter.”
He nodded. “Why don’t you step out of the car and we can find somewhere to talk? For an officer of the court, you seem to attract an inordinate amount of trouble.”
She stepped out of her car and followed him to a broken-down picnic table
outside the police-taped area.
“Are you okay?”
“A bit shaken, but I’ll be fine.”
He pulled a notebook from his pocket and unclipped his pen. “I’m interested to know how a young lawyer manages to stumble across two dead bodies in only a few weeks. What are you doing here?”
“I came to interview Mr. Silver.” Her voice wavered and she took a deep breath. “I set up the appointment last week. He said he had only a few weeks to live, and he had something he wanted to tell me before he died.”
A crash from the house startled her and she turned to see two people in white crime suits carrying large metal boxes into the house.
“Someone shot him.” Her voice rose as panic replaced shock.
He squeezed her hand. “The police and the coroner are inside looking after him, but I need your help. Now, tell me about the case you’re working on.”
Her brain finally clicked into gear. “I…uh…don’t think I can breach client confidentiality.”
James frowned. “A man is dead. Shot in the head. The killer is loose. There’s a potential threat to public safety. I don’t believe the Law Society will have a problem with the disclosure.”
Katy cringed at his cold, brief assessment. “I’ve actually…never dealt with this situation before. I would really feel more comfortable if I could run it by a partner first.”
A smile ghosted his lips. “I know a partner who might be able to help.”
Blood rushed to Katy’s cheeks. “Of all people, he can’t know. He’s on the other side of the case.”
James studied her intently. “That case seems to be causing you two a lot of problems.”
“I’m not having problems,” she snapped. “It’s fine.” She turned away to watch the people in their white crime suits gathering evidence. They reminded her of Justin’s Lego astronauts.
“Look at me.” He tilted her chin up with a gentle touch. His piercing blue eyes held her still. “Do you know what your problem is?”
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” she muttered.
He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know what you want.”
“Thanks for the psychoanalysis, but for your information, the issue is not me. We have a professional conflict.”
He smiled, an uneasy gesture on his fierce face. “Any conflict can be overcome. You just have to want it enough.”
Katy grimaced. Mark had wanted it enough to give up the case. But what about her? Would she do the same for him?
“I don’t remember asking for your advice.”
James snorted a laugh. “Still feeling panicked?”
“No.” She made the admission with reluctance, knowing she had let herself be manipulated.
“Anger does it every time.”
Katy studied his face, softened by the sunlight. Not as scary as she had first thought when she’d seen him in the club, or even under the florescent lights at the police station. His was a face to be trusted.
“Now, about those questions…” He tapped his notebook with his pen.
Back to business. As if their entire conversation hadn’t happened.
“Can I talk to you after I’ve spoken to my partners?”
“Go ahead. Give them a call. I’ll wait.” He gestured to her purse.
“I mean maybe this evening. I have another witness to see at lunch, and one after that. I can tell you now about the scene I walked into this morning and about my phone call with Mr. Silver, but the case details I need to run by them.”
James gave her a reluctant nod and she filled him in on her visit from the moment she had turned up the driveway. When she finished, he handed her his card. “Call me if the next one turns up dead too.”
“What do you mean get rid of her? This isn’t the mob.”
Mark pushed his chair back and stalked over to the boardroom window to watch the endless sprawl of rush hour traffic below. Why did Steele want Katy off the case? Was it something other than the simple dismissal it appeared to be? Or was it personal? He should have talked to Steele earlier about withdrawing from the case. Now it would have to wait until he knew what Steele was really after.
Steele sighed. “You know what I mean.”
“Only Saunders, Katy’s managing partner or a judge can remove her from the case if she doesn’t want to withdraw,” he said.
Steele steepled his fingers and rested his chin against his hands. “Corporate spies are not easily scared away. But if Saunders loses a second lawyer and has to start over, she might be deterred. There has to be something you can do.”
Alarm bells rang in Mark’s head. Had Steele tried to scare Martha away? Had he been behind the telephone threat?
“You could settle.”
“Never.”
Mark snorted. The understatement of the year. Steele never settled. Even when the odds were against him. His willingness to take risks had helped him turn a small biotech start-up into one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in Canada.
“Well, she’s upped the stakes so you might want to reconsider. She’s been granted an order to depose a witness tomorrow on an emergency basis. She caught me by surprise at the hearing, but I’ll be there to cross-examine him.”
“What witness?”
“Martin Kowalski, your former Chief Scientific Officer. Apparently he’s leaving the country. He agreed to be questioned under oath so his evidence can be entered at trial.”
“Goddammit.” Steele pounded the table with his fist. “He thinks he can drop a bomb and run away. I told Gordon that Kowalski was going to cause trouble. Can you stop the deposition?”
“I tried this morning and my appeal was unsuccessful. Ms. Sinclair must have been confident about the outcome. She didn’t even bother to show up. She sent an articling student in her place.” Mark paced the room, straightening the red leather chairs around the giant mahogany table as he walked. “I haven’t received a witness statement so I can’t even speculate about the evidence she hopes to get.”
“I know what she’s after,” Steele growled. “And if she keeps digging, she’s going to get more than she bargained for.”
“Care to share that information with me? I can’t represent you properly unless you keep me informed.”
Steele shook his head. “Not this time.”
“That’s what you said about the Cunninghams.” Mark shoved two documents across the table, trying not to let his agitation show. “I went to see them this morning after the appeal. Robert signed his amended agreement but his wife, Patricia, refused to sign hers.”
Steele balled the unsigned agreement in his fist. “I should have sent Gordon. This would have been signed if he had been there. You’re letting me down, Mark. Your dogged insistence on adhering to every rule in the law book is becoming wearisome. The world doesn’t work that way. Billion dollar pharmaceutical companies are not run that way. You have to be prepared to bend the rules.”
Ah, the irony.
Mark turned and leaned his back against the glass. A sliver of doubt worried its way through his mind. “You’re responsible for the other lawyer dropping the case, aren’t you?”
Steele’s eyes never left his. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
“Probably best if you don’t. Why do you want her off the case?” He tried to keep his voice calm and neutral as if they were talking about any other lawyer on any other case, while inside he fought the overwhelming urge to smash something. Like Steele’s nose.
“Curiosity is taking that little kitty to dark and dangerous places.” Steele joined Mark by the window. “You need to have a talk with her. I’m not the only one with something to lose if she continues to interfere.”
Mark’s throat tightened. “I can’t do that. She would see it for what it really is…a threat. Aside from that, it would be unethical.”
“Spin it.” Steele patted him on the back. “Make it into a friendly warning. You have a law firm depending on my good will.”
Mark rubbed his han
d along his jaw. If he hadn’t already decided to withdraw from the case, he would have had to do it now. Running a simple case against Katy was one thing, but threatening her was entirely out of the question. Steele had unwittingly just given Mark an easy way out of the conflict.
He grabbed at it with both hands.
“I’m going to have to hand the case over to someone else. I won’t even consider crossing that line. If you’ve been honest with me, it’s a simple case, and Gordon can handle it for you, but if you want it to stay in the firm, Tony—”
Steele cut him off. “Unacceptable.”
Mark shrugged. “Your only other option is to let me run the case in the normal way. No threats. No warnings.”
“Also unacceptable. She seems to have forgotten what kind of case she’s supposed to be running. And you seem to have forgotten just how reliant your firm is on Hi-Tech’s legal work. I have the means to save your firm from becoming another casualty of the recession. All I ask is that you get the little kitty off the case. I don’t care how.”
Mark folded his arms. “I won’t do it. I’m sorry. I’m afraid I have to step down.”
Steele studied him for a long moment. “What about the deposition tomorrow?”
“I won’t prejudice your case. I’ll lodge my withdrawal documents with the court this afternoon, but if you can’t find new counsel, or Ms. Sinclair refuses an adjournment, then I’ll attend at court tomorrow morning to make an emergency application to have the deposition delayed.” He stiffened and prepared himself for Steele’s explosive temper.
But Steele didn’t react as he expected.
“I’m disappointed but not surprised,” Steele said bitterly. “I always knew it would come to this. You’ve never had the balls to take the risks that separate the men from the boys. I won’t forget your betrayal.” His low voice sent chills down Mark’s spine. He had never seen this side of Steele. His quiet menace had every hair on Mark’s neck standing on end and his fists clenched and ready to strike.
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