by J J Miller
“I thought HardShell was doing much better and bigger than Bravo.”
“It is, by a long shot. But Bravo is growing and McClean’s always ready to pounce on Quinn’s mistakes. Since the robbery, he’s been contacting all our clients, saying we can’t be trusted. And if HardShell was doing anything illegal, McClean would let the cops know, for sure.”
“Scooter, is there anything that Quinn wants to keep hidden from the authorities?”
Scooter shifted.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe what?”
“Well, you know how Chip was super uneasy about HardShell handling illegal goods?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, well, I think maybe he had good cause to worry.”
There was a pause. This was my cue.
“Scooter, do you believe Chip is a good man?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Do you believe he’s guilty of killing Bo and Nate and stealing all that cash?”
“No. I just don’t think Chip was like that.”
“That makes two of us. Listen, Chip needs someone who can essentially say what you just told me in court. The jury needs to know that he is a good man.”
A spark of fear hit Slovak’s face. He began shaking his head.
“No, Mr. Madison. I can’t.”
“He needs you, Scooter. I need you.”
“Quinn won’t like it. He’ll think I’m a traitor and that I’d be dragging HardShell’s name through the mud. And I know Quinn. He’s been fighting like hell to keep his business going. He’ll do anything to protect his company. He’s at war now and I don’t want to appear to be on the other side.”
“This is not about taking sides, Scooter. Don’t think of it like that. All I’ll be asking you are questions about your colleague and friend. You count yourself as a friend, don’t you?”
“I guess, but we’re not close.”
“But you got him the job?”
“Yes.”
“Because you felt like you owed him.”
“Yes.”
“Because he saved your life?”
“Yes.”
“Well, now you can help save his life. I can’t put it more plainly than that. And all that’s required of you is to simply state the facts about Chip’s employment, his job performance, and your assessment of his character.”
“You want me to talk about how he saved my life, don’t you?”
“No. I don’t. Let me be clear: I don’t want you to talk about that at all. You’d appear completely biased, and it would ruin your testimony.”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”
“Chip’s got no one in his corner, Scooter. No one.”
“He’s got you.”
“That’s not enough.”
“But if Chip didn’t kill Nate and Bo, then who did?”
“That’s not what this trial has to resolve. This is about countering the effort to hang this crime on Chip. What I need to focus on, what we need to focus on, is making damn sure he gets his day in court. Can I count on you to help? Can Chip count on you?”
Slovak nodded.
“Yes. Okay, Mr. Madison. I’ll do it. I’ll testify.”
I had to refrain from doing a fist-pump. Something had gone right in this case for a change.
Chapter 25
After Slovak left, I sat in my office to contemplate the turn of events. Who had called the DEA on Quinn? And how did they clean up the lab so quickly? Maybe after the drone incursion, they thought a bust was imminent. Whatever the case, the raid was something I could raise in court when Rollins was on the stand. It provided an in to exposing HardShell’s seedy underbelly.
My door had been left open after Slovak left. I lifted my head at the sound of soft knocking to see Megan standing there.
“This just came for you,” she said, coming forward and handing me an envelope with a knowing smile. “I think I know who it’s from.”
I dug my finger in and tore it open, all the while looking at Megan with my eyebrows raised. It was a good luck card from Abby. She must have been following the case in the news, and knew the trial was coming up fast.
Caught off guard, I put the card right back in the envelope and placed it on the desk.
“Now I definitely know who it’s from,” said Megan. “Abby, am I right?”
“Wrong, it’s from my mother,” I said flatly.
I leaned back in my chair and looked at my watch. It was almost five on a Thursday afternoon but suddenly it felt like the weekend.
“Hey, why don’t we go for a drink?” I asked Megan.
“Normally, I’d say yes but I’ve got to pack. Remember?”
It had slipped my mind that Megan was off on a mini break. One of her close friends was getting married in New Orleans, and she was taking Friday and Monday off. When she mentioned the wedding to me initially, she didn’t ask for any time off. But after she told me she was the matron of honor, I insisted she take a long weekend and enjoy herself. Her boyfriend Sam was going too, and it was not hard to tell she was smitten. I was happy for her and hoped like hell that he didn’t break her heart like the last prick she got serious about.
I’d processed the fact that I’d be without Megan for two working days, then promptly forgot all about it.
I must have looked a little bummed that she turned me down for a drink.
“Brad, you could use a break yourself.”
Megan hardly ever said this to me. I think she admired my work ethic and knew that I tended to lose myself in cases.
“Don’t be absurd. I’m preparing for a trial, Megan. I can’t afford to take time off.”
“I don’t mean go on vacation. I mean you need to get your brain off the job for a while. A night, even.”
“You know that’s impossible,” I said, tapping my tight temple. “This thing doesn’t have an off switch.”
“Sounds to me like you’re just making up excuses.”
“I’m not.”
“Why don’t you call Jack? You do know the Lakers are playing tonight?”
“Yeah, of course I do.”
I was lying. It had totally slipped my mind.
“And you do remember that Mrs. Lindstrom said she would get you courtside seats whenever you wanted, don’t you?”
She was right. As part of her thank you for settling her divorce so quickly and favorably, Nina had offered me use of her Lakers season pass whenever I wanted.
“No, I’d actually forgotten all about that, Megan. I guess I could call Nina.”
“And then give Jack a call.”
“Ah, yeah. About that. Jack won’t be allowed to come out and play any time soon. I can tell you that right now.”
“Why not?”
I didn’t want to go into the fact that he’d been shot. “He’s busy being super daddy.”
Megan sat herself on the edge of the desk. She picked up Abby’s card and waved it in my face.
“Then call someone else,” she said. “You need to go let your hair down, and something tells me that the ideal person for you to do that with is reaching out to you.”
“I told you. That card’s from my mother.”
Megan cocked an eyebrow.
“Perfect. Then pick up the phone. Call you mom,” she said, air-quoting the last word. “And take her to the frickin’ game.”
She slapped the card back down on the table, got off the desk, and headed for the door.
“All this will still be here when you get back,” she said, standing in the doorway. “But it’s going to do you no good to sit here and stew. You need some perspective. And a date with your mom is just the ticket.”
“You’re sick, you know that?”
“Yes, I do know that. Go show your mom a good time. Maybe she needs it just as much as you.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.”
Megan marched back to my desk, placed both hands on the edge and leaned in toward me. “Brad, you do know she’s split
from her husband, don’t you?”
Megan’s words jolted me. There was no way to hide it. Megan smiled as she read my furrowed brow. She took out her phone, tapped away, scrolled and tapped then showed me the screen. I took the phone from her hands. She was right, if the story could be believed. Abby and her husband were spending time apart. I felt so stupid, the way I acted that night in Vinnie’s.
Megan took her phone from my hands, and began gathering her things to leave. She stood in the doorway as she pulled her coat on, watching to see if I took action before she left.
“Go,” I said to her, picking up my phone. “I’m calling. You can go now. I’m doing it.”
“You’d better.”
I began searching my contacts.
Megan reached for the handle to close the door.
“Say hi to your mom for me,” she said with a wink.
Chapter 26
“Hi, Brad. What’s up?”
The tone of Abby’s voice was cool. Not cool as in hip. Cool as in, “maybe me answering this call was a dumb idea, and I’m going to make a fast exit.”
I cleared my throat. “First, I just wanted to apologize for the other night, if I was being rude.”
“If? I came over to say hi, I asked you back stage, and for all your lack of enthusiasm you basically told me to fuck off.”
“I’m sorry, Abby. You were the last person I expected to see that night.”
“Seemed like I was the last person you wanted to see.”
“That’s not it at all. I was glad to see you. And if I’m being honest, maybe I was trying too hard to hide it.”
There was a pause. I heard Abby take a drink. A few seconds passed before she spoke. “In case you didn’t realize, this silence here is an invitation to keep talking.”
“Right,” I said as I tried to choose my words carefully, walking a dreaded line that threatened to expose my vulnerability. “Seeing you was a nice surprise. I just wasn’t ready for it. And the way you were so open and friendly… it just took me back to how I used to feel about you. And the problem with that is that it’s inappropriate now.”
“It’s inappropriate for you to like me?”
“You know what I’m saying.”
“I think so, but only one of us knows what you mean.”
“It’s inappropriate because you’re married. That’s what I was wrestling with.”
“Jesus Christ. You men. It’s hard to tell who you’re at war with—yourselves or the people you care about.”
Abby didn’t take this opportunity to even hint that her marriage was on the rocks. So maybe the article Megan showed me was just another made-up Hollywood story. Whatever Abby’s status was, now was not the moment to probe.
“Well, I’d like you to know that I can wear my big boy pants and be friends with you if that’s what you want.”
“I don’t know what I want. I was just happy to see you. But you did your best to show me you didn’t feel the same. And then you just up and left. Your loss, Brad Madison. Marcus King is fucking amazing, and you blew the chance not just to see him but to meet him.”
I leaned back in my chair. “I’ll kick myself over that, for sure.”
I opened my drawer and pulled out a bottle of Talisker 10 and a glass. Abby must have heard the soft pop of the cork.
“Oh, good. You’re fixing yourself a drink. I hate to drink alone.”
Her voice. Her humor. Her no-bullshit approach. This was everything I liked about her all those years ago.
I took a sip of my scotch. “Thanks for the card. That was sweet of you.”
“Well, I know you’ve got that trial coming up. And I know that’s what your mind will be on twenty-four-seven.”
“I’m really behind the eight-ball on this one.”
“You’ve got to win this one, Brad. I couldn’t bear to see Wesley Brenner use it for his own political gain.”
Her words surprised me. “Have you been following the case?”
“As a matter of fact, I have.”
“I’m starting to think you showing up at Vinnie’s was no coincidence. I’m picturing a crazy stalker wall—you know, covered in cut-outs and photos and freaky messages scrawled in red.”
Abby laughed. “Let me stop you there before that swelling head of yours breaks a window. I’m following the case because Wesley Brenner is using it as a platform to get back into the Senate.”
“You’re not a fan, I take it?”
“The man’s revolting. He groped me at a charity event a few years back. I gave him an earful and you should have heard what came out of his mouth. It was a hateful, disgusting rant littered with the c-word. So, no, I’m not a fan.”
The thought of Brenner attacking Abby like that made me furious. I thought it best I change the subject.
“How’s Hollywood treating you?”
“Good. I’ve had a great run, but I don’t know how much longer I’ll keep doing it. You know, one day you’re top of everyone’s leading-lady list, next the only offers that come your way are for lame rom-coms.”
The conversation veered to my own life, then to Bella, and Claire. I told Abby that Claire had remarried and that Bella wanted to spend more time with me.
“Do you still love Claire?”
“No, not in that way. Not like I used to. It took a while but it’s not there anymore. I want her to be happy, but from what Bella’s said all is not well between Claire and Marty.”
“When we were together you were only just getting divorced.”
“I know.”
“I was sure you were the perfect man for me, but then I wasn’t. There was something that always bothered me.”
“What was that?”
“Like it was too soon for you.”
“You’re probably right. But I don’t regret it. How’s married life for you?”
“Tommy and I are separated,” Abby sighed and took a swig of wine. “It’s not malicious or anything, we just realized we’re not on the same path.”
“Sorry to hear that. Are you seeing anyone or is that off the cards?”
Abby hesitated. “Yes and no.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means mostly no.”
“Is there a chance we—?”
Abby shushed me quietly. “Don’t Brad.”
Suddenly I was confused again.
“Look,” she said. “I don’t know where I am at the moment. I like you a lot. So much so that it makes me feel I need to be guarded. Like you were with Claire, I’m not in the best emotional state, and I can’t just grab onto another relationship to steady me. You know what I mean?”
“Sure, it’s about timing.”
“Yes. And to be totally honest, I wasn’t happy with how things went the other night. I mean I was happy to see you—”
“Like I said, I thought you were married.”
“I know. I don’t hold that against you at all. It’s just that it reminded me of how committed you are to your job. You eat, live and breathe being a lawyer. And that’s why I sent you the card. I really admire that about you. But I’m not sure how much room there is for other stuff. Other people.”
“Abby, I’m not a machine. I have actually held down a job and a relationship before.”
“I know, Brad. I’m sorry. See? This is what I mean about my emotional state. I’m making out like it’s you, not me. I’m sorry. I don’t feel like I’ve got my sea legs yet, if you know what I mean.”
“I get it.”
“I’m really sorry how things ended between us. I do care about you. I don’t want you to hate me.”
“I don’t hate you. But I hate Wes Brenner even more after what you told me.”
“Well, you’d better make sure you don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose.”
“That’s easier said than done.”
“Brad, you were born to do this. You’ll find a way, I’m sure. You’re a brilliant lawyer. I’ll be rooting for you.”
“Thank
s.”
“I’ve got to go. Goodnight.”
“Night,” I said.
I put the phone down on the desk, my head in a haze. I took the bottle and poured myself another belt.
And another.
Chapter 27
The next morning my office smelled of stale whisky. I picked up the glass from the night before and the wastepaper basket and walked to the breakroom. I emptied the trash and got a new plastic liner from a drawer and fitted it. I then washed the glass, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and headed back.
It was odd to not have Megan there to greet me.
A recollection of my conversation with Abby came to mind. Not so much the words as the feel. The sound of her voice, the ease of our rapport. The thought hung there for a few moments then I just let it go. Observing it like that, it didn’t make me feel anything other than a resignation to fate. Life and love is so much about timing. If Abby and I ever had a time, it had passed.
I sat down at my desk and surveyed the files placed there. All were related to Chip’s case. I thought of Scooter, hoping he wouldn’t pull out. I couldn’t blame him if he did. I knew full well the courage it would take for him to speak in Chip’s defense. Before he left, I reassured him we’d have ample time to prepare before he took the stand. Still, I know from experience that he was likely to try and pull out.
As I was thinking, my eye fell on my journal which was still open on the page where I made notes during my meeting with Scooter.
I leaned forward and picked up the book. Immediately, I was drawn to a sentence I’d underlined. It was something Scooter had said about Quinn: He’ll do anything to protect his company.
I couldn’t remember why it was that I’d underlined it. I mean, it wasn’t like I didn’t know Quinn was willing to break the law to keep his empire growing.
Henry Tuck then came to mind. Him sitting in this office, telling me he was having a hard time getting his money out of HardShell. That his partner was resisting Henry’s wishes, telling him to hold off for a year.
But what if Rollins didn’t want Tuck to cash in, period?