CHAPTER THREE
Jayson scanned the faces of his staff, all three. Their expressions indicated they greeted the news he had brought them with all the enthusiasm of an IRS tax audit. It was Monday morning. The four of them had gathered at his conference room table, which could seat six people comfortably. Jayson sat at one end with his back to a mostly glass, closed door positioned between six-feet-wide glass walls. From where they sat, his staff could visually survey the open area on the other side of the glass, which doubled as their shared workspace and client waiting room. A mug of freshly brewed, strong-scented coffee, a pen and a pad of paper rested within arm’s reach of each person in the room, which measured about half the size of Jayson’s master bedroom at home.
Jayson heard the telephone ring behind him—the first call of the new work week. Tenika, his thirty-six-year-old “office manager,” placed her large palms on the arms of her chair to rise, but Jayson motioned for her to remain seated. “Let the voice mail system pick it up,” he told her. He opened his arms and let them drop to his sides. “Well, don’t just sit there,” he said to his captive audience. “Say something.”
Consuela “Connie” Gonzalez, an attractive woman in her early thirties sitting next to Tenika, spoke first. “What do you want us to say?” Her accented voice bounced off the three walls of built-in bookshelves crammed with law books. “The name on the door out there says ‘Jayson Cook.’” She pointed at herself, adorned with abundant jewelry from her ears to her fingers. “I’m just your paralegal, and Tenika’s the secretary, and—”
“Office manager,” Tenika interjected with a nudge. She put a smile on her pudgy, baby face and adjusted her dark, full-figured body in her chair.
Connie giggled and nudged her friend in return. “Oh, forgive me, amiga. Office manager.” She faced Jayson again and rubbed her thumb against her index and middle fingers. “I go where the money is, and last I checked, you’re it.”
Victor Chen, sitting to Jayson’s left, offered his opinion. “Connie speaks the truth,” he said as he grabbed a paper napkin to dab at a spot of coffee that had landed on his tie. “I’ve only been here for a few weeks. I’m your intern and my job’s to help out any way I can. If you say you’re defending Brian Stone, then my job’s to help you defend Brian Stone.” He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of coffee.
Jayson shifted his gaze from left to right as he addressed his staff. “I understand your loyalty to me because you know which side of your bread is being buttered, and I respect that, I do. But what I want to know is how do you feel about this case? I mean, let’s get it all out in the open and clear the air so we know where we stand.”
“Well…” Tenika said, barely above a whisper.
“Yes, Ms. Spencer?” Jayson asked, calling her by last name as a joke.
She pursed her lips and shook her head slowly. “I—I remember when it happened two years ago; the church bombing that is. They showed that little angel’s picture on the news and I broke down and cried when I saw it.” She raised her right hand. “That’s the God’s honest truth. I cried and said out loud, ‘I hope they catch the animal who did it and shoot him down like a mad dog.’”
Jayson nodded. “I bet we all felt something similar two years ago when it first happened, Tenika. And how do you feel now that we’re representing the accused?”
Tenika blew on her coffee, took a sip and made a face. She set the mug down and answered while tearing the tops off two packets of sugar and emptying the contents. “Well, I’ve been with you from the very beginning, back when you had that office in Roxbury. But let’s just say I’m glad I just answer the phones and keep things organized around here.” She folded her arms across her chest.
Jayson took her gesture to mean she had said all she wanted to say. He turned to his paralegal. “And you, Connie? You’ve told me that you and your boyfriend sometimes argue about what we do. Is this going to be a problem for you?”
Connie shook her head. “Not no more. We’ve finally agreed to leave our jobs at work. And it’s not like he’s investigating homicides or anything. He’s mostly chasing car thieves these days. Besides,” she added, “I might have to trade him in pretty soon anyway for something with more zip, ya’know?”
Victor raised his hand. “Is it okay if I say something else?”
Jayson resisted the urge to laugh at the young man’s gesture. “Of course, Victor.”
“Well,” the twenty-four-year old law student said, “I had lunch with a bunch of classmates from Northeastern and they told me that at their internships, they spend all day in some closet-size room shuffling paper. One of them told me at the firm where she works, when one of the partners enters the room, the interns have to leave right away without speaking to him. I told them about how you’ve been, you know, letting me do stuff and even asking for my opinion, and they all told me how lucky I was. I told them that you—” He stopped and put his hands to his lips. “Oops, I’m doing it again, using ten words instead of five. Aren’t I?”
“Yes you are,” the two women and Jayson said in unison. The three broke into laughter.
Victor rubbed his face with his right hand, embarrassed. “What I mean is, I’m with you, Jayson. Whatever you say, I do.”
Tenika laughed. “Very eloquently said, Victor.”
Victor smiled. “Thanks, Tenika…um, I think.”
Jayson chuckled, then grew serious. “This is going to be a tough one. Once this thing gets going, the media’ll probably be on it. The DA’s people have had a year and a half to get all their ducks in a row. They’ll be trying their usual tricks—withholding information, promising the moon to anyone at the jail who can coax Stone into admitting something incriminating, coaching the police on what to say, you know.”
“Who’s representing the Commonwealth?” Connie asked.
“It’ll be Samira Rahmani behind the wheel,” Jayson replied.
Connie whistled. “The Iranian wolf?”
Jayson nodded. “Yep, and you know she’s tough and crafty. And Omar Anderson’s in the passenger seat. He takes everything so personally, so be ready for anything.”
“Have you met with Stone yet?”
“Not yet,” Jayson answered. “First I’m looking over the police reports, the crime scene photos, and so forth, to see what we’re up against. Then I’ll meet with him to see how he’s doing. After that I’m meeting Samira and Omar to talk things over.” He stood and buttoned his suit jacket. “Then if there are no objections let’s get at it.” He pointed at his office manager. “Tenika, we’ll probably start getting calls from the media soon. Stall them. Tell them we’ve just gotten on board and want to get up to speed. If our other clients call, let them know it’s business as usual here. I’m still devoting full attention to their cases, you know.”
“Right,” she said. “Anything else?”
“Yeah,” Jayson replied. “Pay extra close attention to keeping me on track with respect to schedules, appearances, dates, time, reminders, all that—for this client and the others. We don’t want to give anyone the impression that we’re overextended. Send me messages on my e-calendar or call me, whatever you have to do.”
“Don’t be disturbed by that little voice you hear in your head, chief,” Tenika announced. “It’s not that you haven’t taken your medication. It’ll just be me reminding you about an appointment.” She glanced at her watch and slowly rose. “Maybe I better get out there and hit the phones. Could even be a potential husband for me.”
“Looking to beat a possible five-to-ten stretch for burglary, no doubt,” Connie quipped.
“At this point, anything less than rape or murder and we can talk,” Tenika retorted. She opened the door, stroked her chin and gazed at the ceiling. “What I need is a nice embezzler. Someone with some money stashed away.”
Jayson laughed. “Thanks, Tenika. Go ahead and grab the phones.” She closed the door behind her. Next, he addressed his intern. “Victor, I skimmed over at least two dozen newspaper articles about St
one and the investigation and bookmarked them. I’ll get them to you in a couple of minutes. I want you to read them over from top to bottom and dig up anything else you can find. Call your friend at the news station and round up any of their stories over the past two years even remotely related to this. Write me up a synopsis.” He rolled his eyes. “And please—”
Victor held up his hands. “I know. I know. Keep it short. What else?”
Jayson walked past him and positioned himself on the other end of the table. “According to what I read, Stone wasn’t in town long before he got involved in Morgan’s Church of the True Savior. Do a search on that fancy computer of yours and find out whatever you can about Morgan and that bunch. I had nothing else to do with them after the court ruling. I want to know what those idiots were up to at the time of the bombing and what they’ve been up to since.” He marched to the door and opened it. “Tenika,” he called. “Turn the air conditioner up, would you? It’s warm in here.” He turned back to Victor. “Get started on the church and I’ll get you what you need for the other stuff after I talk to Connie.”
Victor backed up his chair and got to his feet, clearly excited. “I’ll get on it.” At the door, he met Jayson face to face. He stood two inches shorter than Jayson, but at five-ten enjoyed being the tallest person among his circle of Asian law student friends at Northeastern University.
Jayson smiled and put his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Hey, do it like that Hamilton synopsis you gave me last week, only shorter. I know you worked hard on it, and I really appreciate it.” He patted Victor on the back. “Go to it.” Victor nodded several times, then all but sprinted to his table in the next room.
Jayson closed the door and pivoted to face Connie. They had developed a relationship based on mutual trust, respect and friendship. Still, because the blinds that hung over the connecting door and walls had been raised, he felt reasonably comfortable with the two of them being alone in the room. He also derived comfort from the realization that Connie’s eyes, set in her youthful face covered with layers of make-up, had fixated on someone in the office, but not him. Nevertheless, he stayed at the opposite end of the table as he spoke to her. “Victor’s a good kid.”
Connie glanced at the door and grinned. “Good? He’s absolutely adorable. I could just eat him up.” She winked. “And I bet I could teach him a couple of things.” She wiggled her hips, performing a little dance jig. “Um-hmm, let him get a hold of some of this extra spicy picante sauce and he—”
Jason wagged his index finger. “Now he’s a nice boy, Connie. You just keep your claws off him and he’ll stay that way.”
Connie widened her eyes. “Kid? Boy? He’s a young man, Jaymeister, and a real cutie at that. And you know what? He absolutely idolizes you. The other day he asked Tenika where you buy your clothes.”
Jayson nodded. “He’s gonna be an outstanding lawyer some day.”
“He wants to go into criminal law, but his parents want him to go corporate.”
“I know. He’ll do what’s right for him.”
Connie grabbed her notebook and pen. “Well, whatcha got for me?”
Jayson leaned on the arm of the chair in front of him. “I’m looking at how to possibly get the DA to go for second degree. I need some ammunition. No premeditation. That kind of thing. Look it up for me. And after I give Victor those news articles, I’m going to give you a few decisions on searches and seizures. Shepardize them and find out if anything’s happened recently. Especially check out automobile searches. If those cops found a map in Stone’s car lying in clear view, I’m the frickin’ pope.”
“You got it. Anything else, Your Eminence?”
“Nah. That should keep you busy for a while.”
“Jayson, can I ask you something?”
“The answer’s no. I pay you all too much as it is.”
Connie giggled. “Not that…not today, at least.”
“Go ahead.”
“What did Renee say about this?”
Jason pulled the chair out and sat. He took a deep breath and stared at the table as he spoke. “She doesn’t like it. You know she could become head of anesthesiology pretty soon. She’s worried this case will hurt her chances. She’s also afraid it’ll disrupt our lives like that other one did three years ago.”
Connie wiped her forehead with her fingertips. “Whew! What an awful time that was. I remember the angry phone calls and letters and stuff. Remember that box of dog shit somebody sent us in the mail?”
“Yeah, poor Tenika,” Jayson said. “I’ve never seen her so upset. That’s one of the reasons I moved the office to Brighton—besides the fact that I needed bigger and better space.” He waved his hands in the air as if erasing the memories. “Well, thanks for asking. As the saying goes, ‘This too shall pass.’ Now let’s go do what I hope the state is going to pay us handsomely to do.”
Connie sashayed out of the room. Jayson stood and gathered his things while reflecting on Renee’s interactions with him since he informed her about the Stone case. She had been polite, but a bit distant. No doubt she had devoted some of her Saturday visit with her parents to complain about his new client. Jayson liked Renee’s parents, both successful college professors, but he knew they didn’t approve of him completely. Renee had confessed to him years ago that, had her mother and father’s desires been met, their daughter—their only child—would have married a corporate attorney; someone who sat in a fancy office on the twentysomething floor of some high rise building. The erudite professors found their son-in-law’s association with accused criminals to be somewhat unseemly.
A knock on the door interrupted Jayson’s thoughts. He turned and opened it.
Taneka positioned herself halfway inside the conference room. “Some woman’s on the phone. Sounds young. Says she wants to talk to you. Wouldn’t give her name but she said it’s important. She’s got a bit of a Spanish accent, I think.”
Puzzled, Jayson moved his eyebrows closer together. “You sure she wanted me, not Connie?”
“She asked for you.”
Jayson checked his watch and brushed by her, heading for his office. “Well, no name, no me. You know the rules, Tenika.”
Tenika chased behind him. “I know, but she said it’s about your daughter. She said you’d want to talk to her.”
A few seconds later Jayson sat at the desk in his office staring at the telephone. It rang once and he picked it up. “Hello, this is Jayson Cook.”
“Hello, Jayson. It’s been a long time,” the soft female voice on the other end said. “This is Leslie. I’m back.”
Jayson closed his eyes and ground his teeth together the instant he heard her voice. “That’s got nothing to do with me. Don’t call me again,” he commanded, and hung up. He pressed the intercom button and heard Tenika’s familiar and comforting voice. “If that woman calls again, I’m not available,” he said. He disengaged the intercom and turned his chair so that his back faced the desk.
Jayson stared out his window at the traffic on Cambridge Street two stories below. The sun shone brightly although not directly into his office. Two flowering pear trees in front of the church across the street had all but completely exchanged their exquisite white spring flowers for shiny green leaves. People hurried about, some in short sleeves and short pants. He watched the young striders—Boston College and Boston University commuter students, and the old amblers—several strolling to or from Saint Elizabeth Hospital up the street.
He swung his chair around and faced his desk again, then lowered his head, resting it in his hands and exhaled deeply. “Goddamn it,” he whispered. “Not Leslie.”
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Guilt by Association Page 4