“Do you gamble?” asked Agent Lee.
Avery almost laughed, but realized Agent Lee probably wouldn’t appreciate her sense of humor. “I played cards in college and bet on a few basketball pools during March Madness.”
“What about the four trips to Las Vegas where you won nearly fifty-six thousand dollars all told?”
“It wasn’t illegal. I played well and won. I reported it as income on my taxes.”
“How did you spend your winnings?”
Bailing my mother out of jail. Paying for rehab numbers five, seven, and eight. “I splurged on my friends, paid some debts.”
“You didn’t have any debts, Ms. Keene,” Vance corrected from the corner of the office.
“Exactly,” agreed Avery. “I paid them.”
“No, I mean you’ve never had any debt except for student loans.” Vance emerged from the shadows, brandishing a file. “According to your credit reports, you have never failed to pay your credit cards off within thirty days. So, exactly what debts did you settle with your winnings?”
Avery jutted out her chin. “With all due respect, Chief, my financial affairs are not germane to my employment. Can you tell me what’s going on here?”
Chief Roseborough shook her head. “Answer the questions, Avery.”
“There’s nothing to answer.” She glared at Vance, then at Lee. “I gambled in college, made some money, and spent it. I went to Vegas during law school and got lucky. I pay my taxes and come to work on time. What else do you want to know?”
“What is your relationship with Jared Wynn?” asked Agent Lee.
“As I just said, I met him yesterday at the hospital. He subsequently asked me to meet him to discuss his father’s condition and the power-of-attorney decision. We talked for an hour or two, then he drove me home.”
“And this photo?” The elegant finger of the Chief tapped at the damning image.
“It is of a polite kiss on my cheek in gratitude.”
“For what?” The potentially lewd question came from Vance, whom she had quickly learned to hate. “Why would Jared Wynn be grateful that you stole his birthright and his father?”
“I did nothing of the sort,” she ground out, her grip on her temper slippery. Her stomach, a new barometer of mood, began to tighten with anxiety. This morning’s command performance had a purpose. Looking to the Chief for support, she reminded her of the situation: “Justice Wynn asked me to do this, and I’ve done my best to figure out why. Jared understands that now, and he was appreciative of my willingness to speak with him. End of story.”
“Not quite.” The Chief stood then and circled the desk. “The FBI has received inquiries about the validity of Justice Wynn’s decision and your role. I asked you here this morning to allay their suspicions. But eluding their security detail didn’t help; nor does this photo.” She perched on the mahogany edge and leaned forward, bringing her gaze level with Avery. “There are legitimate questions about what happened yesterday.”
Vance chimed in: “You must admit, Ms. Keene, your sudden rise in power and liaison with Justice Wynn’s son are cause for concern. Not to mention your convenient discovery of his nurse’s body after she was executed.”
Avery turned in his direction, exasperated. “Rise in power?” she stammered. “You really think I killed Nurse Lewis?”
“Everyone in this room knows what hangs in the balance.” Vance closed in, flanking her.
“I have nothing to gain by hurting Nurse Lewis or Justice Wynn.”
“Nothing?” Vance’s query held more than a note of doubt. It reeked of a trap, steel-jawed and menacing.
Unable to avoid it, Avery responded severely, “I’m just doing as Justice Wynn asked.”
“Then perhaps you can explain why you received a wire transfer into your bank account at four this morning, in the amount of five hundred thousand dollars?”
The steel jaws clanged shut.
NINETEEN
“Five hundred thousand dollars?” she sputtered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Which wouldn’t matter. Whether she’d seen it or not, obviously, she had received the money. From someone, somewhere. “I know nothing about a transfer.”
Vance flipped open the folder and removed a thin sheet. The page floated down onto the desk’s surface, beside the Chief. The bank name at the top was a familiar one. “This is a transaction record from your bank, received this morning. An electronic transfer of five hundred thousand dollars from an offshore account, posted right after your rendezvous with Jared Wynn.”
She lifted stricken eyes to the Chief. “I’ve never seen this before,” she whispered. “I swear to you, I don’t know where this came from.” Suspicions weren’t the same, she reasoned.
“Have you traced the origin of the transfer?” inquired the Chief.
“Not yet. Whoever made the deposit took great pains to disguise their identity.” Special Agent Lee shifted closer, surrounding her in a triumvirate of suspicion and disbelief. “If you will cooperate, Ms. Keene, we can try to keep the press to a minimum. Maybe avoid revoking your law license.”
Anxiety became terror. “Revoke my license? On what grounds?”
“Fraud, to start.” Vance spoke from above her head, the dark baritone carrying the ring of inevitability. “If you conspired with Jared Wynn to defraud his father or to thwart the justice’s intentions…”
“And if you had anything to do with the death of Jamie Lewis, we’ll seek to add a charge of murder,” finished Agent Lee.
“The FBI has asked me to place you on administrative leave, pending an investigation,” Chief Roseborough added. “As of now, I see no reason why I should not comply.”
Beneath the cool delivery, Avery heard the opening for explanation. An explanation she would dearly love to offer, but could not. She shouldn’t have a thousand dollars in her account, let alone half a million.
The agent’s threats spun in a maelstrom. Revocation of her license. Administrative leave. Fraud. Murder. Head swirling, Avery reached for slippery control, forcing her mind to focus.
Any charges would mean an end to her career. Even if exonerated, she’d be fortunate to get a gig defending jaywalkers and flashers. Reputation was all you had when you’d been born without the relationships.
Avery got to her feet and planted her hands on the desk, pleading, “Chief Roseborough, please. You can’t believe I killed anyone. I went to her apartment to find out what she knew about Justice Wynn. And I snuck out to meet with Jared because he asked me to, and I was worried and confused.”
“Explain the deposit,” barked Lee. “Tell us where the money came from and who it’s for. Was this payment for a hit?”
“God, no!” Avery stumbled back. “I didn’t kill anyone, and I didn’t accept a bribe.”
“I don’t believe you.” Agent Lee snatched up the sheet and waved it once. “No jury will believe you either.”
The Chief rose as well. “Avery, give us some explanation. Anything.”
“I would—if I knew. Chief, I haven’t done anything wrong,” she repeated shakily. Yet she—as much as the others in the room—understood the tenuous connection between crime and punishment. The allegation was often more than sufficient. Innocent until proven guilty was an urban myth. Terrified, she mumbled, “Yesterday morning, I was a law clerk.”
“Avery, I’m sorry. But my hands are tied.” The Chief paused, her face imperturbable. “You are on administrative leave, effective immediately.”
Agent Lee added, “Until you can explain your newfound wealth, Ms. Keene, we have no choice but to restrict your access to governmental property. You will surrender your badge, and your access to the Court’s systems will be suspended.”
He recited the restrictions in the flat affect she assumed they’d been taught in FBI school. Avery tried to listen, but the words swirl
ed in a blur of sound. Save us. Finish it. Protect Justice Wynn. In the square. She couldn’t do any of that from behind bars.
It was then that she realized no one had placed her under arrest. A clerkship on the district court had taught her the rules of the game in federal court. She took a step toward Agent Lee, cutting off the dry recital from the FBI. “Am I being detained?”
“Not yet.”
“Indicted?”
“No.” Agent Lee cast a look at Major Vance. “Until we have more information, we’re willing to hold off.”
Vance added, “However, we expect you to relinquish your power of attorney to Mrs. Turner-Wynn. If you do so, neither Agent Lee nor I will pursue this matter any further.”
She studied both men. “No.”
“This is not a request, Ms. Keene,” said Agent Lee, taking a step toward her. “You are under investigation, and it would be improper for you to exercise authority in this matter. Take the offer.”
Avery shook her head. “Unless you can prove I’m a danger to Justice Wynn or that I coerced him into appointing me, you have no jurisdiction over my guardianship. Either arrest me or leave me alone.”
“Chief Roseborough?” Agent Lee spun toward the justice, looking for assistance. “Mrs. Turner-Wynn should have her husband’s power of attorney.”
“I am very aware of Howard’s relationship with his wife,” the Chief demurred. “It would not be in his best interests or consistent with his wishes to give her control over his legal or health affairs.”
Obviously surprised by the response, the FBI agent argued, “Then what do you recommend?”
“I recommend you do as Avery suggests. Either arrest her or leave her alone.”
“Then you leave us no choice.” Vance waved a hand at the FBI agent. “Agent Lee, place Ms. Keene under arrest.”
Lee folded his arms, not moving toward Avery. “Hold on, Major, we’ve got—”
“No grounds,” Chief Roseborough interrupted. “Which is why you will do no such thing. I have agreed to place Avery on administrative leave pending your investigation and proof of malfeasance.”
“I agree we don’t have cause to arrest…yet. But with all due respect, this isn’t what we asked for either. I requested immediate termination. Administrative leave was a compromise. I’ve only known her a couple of days, and I have a difficult time placing any trust in her veracity or judgment.”
“What do you suggest?” the Chief asked.
“That Agent Lee detain her as a material witness, at least,” Vance suggested. “And that she relinquish guardianship to a third party, if Mrs. Turner-Wynn isn’t the right person. She is a flight risk.”
“I’m standing right here,” Avery reminded them sharply. “I don’t plan to go anywhere.”
Major Vance jabbed a finger at the damning report. “In a matter of days, you’ve amassed quite a bit of power and a small fortune. I don’t think we can afford to wait for the hat trick.”
Avery turned to plead with the Chief. “I promise you, I have no reason to run. I didn’t want any of this, but I want to do what he asked of me. Please.”
The Chief studied her, then stood, forcing everyone to step back as she rendered her verdict. “I will certainly cooperate with the FBI in this matter, but the management of the Court’s employees is not your domain. Avery will be on administrative leave, but she holds Howard’s power of attorney. I would urge against a material witness warrant, Agent Lee.”
When Vance moved to protest, Lee shook his head once. “We appreciate the Court’s cooperation in this matter, Madam Chief.” He turned to Avery. “I will need you to go to the Hoover Building with me.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said no.” Avery bent and collected her bag. She plucked out her badge, having neglected to put it on that morning. Special Agent Lee had made wearing it unnecessary as he’d bundled her past security. She slapped the badge on the desk.
“Chief Roseborough, I will accept the forced leave of absence. There’s nothing much I can do about the restricted access. But until they have any evidence that I’ve committed a crime, I will not be going anywhere other than home.”
“We can make your life very difficult,” Agent Lee warned.
“Because I’ve been having such an easy time so far this week?” Avery spoke past the knot in her throat, the tremors of nerves that expected handcuffs in an instant, finding instead the bolster of righteous indignation. She turned away from the FBI agent. “Chief, I am Justice Wynn’s clerk. I know the bounds of civil liberties, and I won’t be pushed past them. He wouldn’t want it, and you shouldn’t ask me to.”
Chief Roseborough watched her silently, then released a low chuckle. “I won’t. He trained you well, Avery. You’re dismissed.”
Clawing for dignity, Avery made her way out of the office and past the inquisitive eyes of the Chief’s secretaries. Her composure held as she entered the elevator and rode down to the lobby. A stream of clerks waited in line near the metal detectors.
A brunette with a piquant face and the soul of an archconservative called out, “Hey, Avery! Going the wrong way, aren’t you?”
Her life was ruined. Whether they found anything to condemn her or not, a forced administrative leave and the publicity from Jared would end her life in DC. But no one had to know that yet. “I’m taking some leave to deal with this stuff for Justice Wynn.”
“Hope he’s going to be okay,” offered a short, burly man whose IQ had been recorded in The Guinness Book of World Records. “We’ll be pulling for him.”
“Thanks.” Avery began to push at the heavy glass doors, but the brunette stopped her.
“Wait,” she told Avery. “The vultures are camped outside with their cameras. See if they’ll let you use the other exit.”
With her badge, she could have, but she was no longer one of the Court. She was an outcast. Still, she’d learned a few tricks from Rita. Always be kind to the folks who make the world run, including security guards and secretaries. After the clerks had clambered into the elevator, she found her favorite security guard.
“What can I do you for, Ms. Keene?”
“Vince, the press is outside waiting for me. They want to talk about Justice Wynn.”
“So you need another way out.”
“And a taxi,” she added on a plea.
“Let me see what I can do.” Vince signaled to his colleague to take over the metal detector and motioned for her to follow him. Five minutes later, he helped her into a cab.
“I really appreciate this.”
He flushed with pleasure. “You just take care of the judge. He’s good people.”
“Yes, he is.”
The guard smacked the top of the cab, which pulled into traffic on Pennsylvania Avenue and began to travel north. “Where to, miss?”
She gave her home address to the driver. In a rush, the adrenaline left her, and she sagged against the broken vinyl of the seat. Her hand came to her mouth as she caught back a sob.
It was over for her. Her life’s work, gone in an instant. All for a man who’d barely acknowledged her existence.
With the FBI and Homeland Security working together, she’d be in custody in a matter of days, if not hours. Scott Curlee would trumpet the story across cable, and she’d be finished. She didn’t have a firm lined up, thanks to Justice Wynn’s stupid ethical rules. No job, no money.
Except for half a million she wouldn’t and couldn’t spend.
Ling’s admonition from the night before came screaming back: Refuse the power of attorney…Your boss thinks you’re a chess piece that’s disposable. This isn’t your fight. Get away from the Wynns.
Howard Wynn had set her up and put her entire life in jeopardy without the courtesy of a simple explanation. Her roommate was afraid to come home, and strange men
were manipulating her exactly like a chess piece on a board. Like an ill-fated bishop—filled with useless power and limited moves.
She’d been an excellent clerk and a loyal worker for Howard Wynn.
She owed him nothing more.
As the driver wound his way through morning rush hour, Avery removed her cell phone and dialed the law firm that represented Justice Wynn.
“Noah Fox.”
“Mr. Fox, this is Avery Keene.”
“Yes, Ms. Keene. We were sorry you couldn’t meet with us yesterday to review Justice Wynn’s estate information.”
Ice coated Avery’s stomach, but she ignored the sense of betrayal. She had to take care of herself. Hadn’t Rita taught her years ago that no one else would? “Mr. Fox, do you have time now to discuss Justice Wynn?”
“Sure.”
“Good. I’m on my way over.”
Ten minutes later, Avery reached the glossy office building and rode the elevator upstairs. She met Noah Fox in the lobby. He extended a hand and welcomed her. “Nice to finally meet you, though I wish it were under different circumstances.”
“As do I.”
He pointed to a hallway and they began to walk. “While we’re all very hopeful, you have a significant responsibility.”
“I know,” Avery acknowledged brusquely.
If she hadn’t realized it before, she certainly understood that now. Problem was, she didn’t want the responsibility. She’d spent a lifetime taking care of one lost soul; she wouldn’t risk her future on another one. A bribery or fraud charge from the FBI wouldn’t simply disappear. A murder charge would guarantee she couldn’t sit for the bar anywhere, assuming she wasn’t rotting away in a federal supermax.
Anything that happened with the justice, any decision she made, would be evidence of a conspiracy. The perfect snare. Keep him alive or kill him, either action would evidence a guilty mind. Worse, she’d have a red flag on every background check, a redacted document in every file. Her legal career lay in ruins—unless she made a grand gesture that exonerated her.
They wound through a corridor, and Avery glanced at the attorney. “Mr. Fox, I need your help.”
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