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By now, Dan had learned to walk to the passenger side of the Jaguar F-Pace SVR (the “company car”), when Maria accompanied him. She liked to drive. Being relegated to shotgun had been a bit jarring at first, but he’d adapted. The only real problem was that the universal law these days seemed to be that the driver programmed the radio, and Maria’s musical tastes—largely FM pop—were difficult to bear. How long could a grown adult listen to those thumping bass beats and sappy lyrics? He preferred opera—you could appreciate great vocalists without being distracted by the foreign-language lyrics he didn’t understand.
“Do we have time to get food?” Maria asked.
“You just ate. And complained about fitting into your jeans.”
“Just something light. My tummy’s rumbling. Maybe a takeout sushi burrito?”
“Drive. You can snack later.”
She grudgingly complied. “Looking forward to seeing the mayor again?” She hung a left toward downtown.
“I’m hoping she doesn’t bear a grudge.”
“Because you accused her of being a murderer?”
“I didn’t exactly accuse her...”
“Just made a highly aggressive suggestion?” Maria laughed. “I’m sure she’s forgotten all about it. By the way, for the record, I like her.”
“I do too.”
“Yeah, but you like her because she’s a snack.”
“Would you stop that?”
“I’m impressed that a petite Latinx woman with no connections can turn herself into the most prominent woman in the city. I really admire what she’s accomplished. She’s a spitfire.”
“You’re right about that.”
“She’s like a political Disney princess.”
“Let’s not go overboard, Maria.”
“I thought about going to work for her. Back when she ran the first time.”
“Seriously?” He gave her a quick once-over. She had never struck him as the political type. “What stopped you?”
“Mr. K made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
He understood. “You want to take the lead on this?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re lead counsel. Just don’t ask her out while I’m standing there. Totes awk.”
“Would you stop? I can’t ask out a client. And she’s not my type.”
“Why not?”
“Too high-profile. High-society. Probably high-maintenance. I’m just a regular guy.”
Maria stopped at a red light and gave him a long look. “Is this a joke?”
“Not at all.”
“Dan, you live on a boat. You’re a gourmet chef. You go in for extreme sports.”
“Lots of guys—”
“You drive a Bentley!”
He shrugged. “Mr. K told me to do something special with my signing bonus.”
She pulled into the parking lot, grinning. “Yup. You’re just a regular joe. Salt-of-the-earth. Now let’s go find the mayor.”
* * *
Inside the mayor’s office, Dan was greeted by a slender woman in a two-piece suit. Toni blonde. Too much eye makeup. Cat-eye glasses. Clipboard. “Good afternoon. I’m Benji Ringgold.”
“Pleased to meet you.” He and Maria shook her hand. “Benji?”
She adjusted her glasses. “Long story. When I was little I had a lot of hair, and my nana thought I looked like this dog from the movies.”
Of course. “We’re here to see the mayor.”
“I know. I’m her Chief of Staff. I manage her appointment schedule.”
“She’s expecting us.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t guarantee you an audience.” Benji glanced at her clipboard. “Mayor Pérez is extremely outgoing and has a tendency to schedule more meetings than she can manage.”
“She’ll want to see us.”
Benji had a professional, no-nonsense attitude. Not unfriendly, but efficient. He could see where she might be useful to someone who tended to be friendlier and more accessible than a mayor could afford to be. “You’re lawyers, right?”
“Why?” He wasn’t sure if he should be offended. “Do we not look like lawyers?”
“You’re tan, ripped, and you use hair mousse. No, you don’t look like a lawyer. More like a Chippendale’s dancer.”
Observant, and a smartass sense of humor. He liked this woman already. “Nonetheless, we are attorneys, and the mayor is expecting us.”
“We need someone to solve problems, not exacerbate them.”
“That’s our specialty.”
“Which one?”
“The solving one.”
“I hope you can solve this little problem we’re having. The mayor doesn’t need the distraction. This is the worst possible time.”
“It always is. Is she in her office?” He was prepared to do an end run around this gatekeeper, if necessary.
“No. She’s on the beach. I’ll have someone show you the way.”
Of course. He’d walked the beach with her before. “No need.”
He turned toward the door, but Benji stopped him. “A word, if I may.”
“Okay.”
“Do you understand how important the mayor is to this city?”
“We do,” Maria answered.
“And I probably don’t need to tell you that some people can’t stand the thought of a strong woman in a position of power. That’s true of men and women both. Sexism runs wide.”
“That’s what you think these charges are about?” Maria asked.
“I know that’s what they’re about. And I don’t want them to go any further than they already have.”
“We will do whatever—”
“I love Camila Pérez,” Benji said, with an unrestrained enthusiasm that impressed him. “I would lie down on the tracks and die for her. If it weren’t for Camila, I’d be a lonely woman sitting at home with her cats. Camila gave me a life. She’s the best thing that ever happened to this city, maybe this country. The thought that her career could be curtailed by a sexist dirty-tricks campaign makes me physically ill.”
“We will make every effort—”
“Do more. Do everything and then some. Bury this old-school BS. Please!”
An employer who inspired this level of devotion must be someone special. “We will do our best.”
“We talked to other lawyers. Didn’t hear anything helpful.”
He looked her square in the eyes. “That explains why our boss sent us. He calls us the Last-Chance Lawyers. Believe me, if there’s anything that can possibly be done here, we will do it.”
* * *
Dan threaded a path through the back alleys and eventually made his way to the beach. Fortunately, he’d followed this path before and had an excellent memory. It only took him about ten minutes to find the beach. Maria trailed close behind.
He loved the St. Petersburg beach. Best in the world, as far as he was concerned. Main reason he’d stayed here, even though he technically didn’t have anything tying him to Florida anymore. Not even a home, at least not in the conventional sense. But he loved to feel the salty spray bathing his sinuses. He loved the reassuring heat of the sun on his face and the cry of pelicans diving across the horizon. In the distance, he could see children playing, running, building sand castles. Not a better place on earth.
He spotted his quarry sitting on a sand dune, a small raised hill that gave her a relatively discreet vantage point. So far as he could tell, there was no security detail, no entourage, no press secretary. And she didn’t seem to be doing anything in particular. Just gazing out at the water.
“Mind if I share your dune?”
Mayor Camila Pérez looked up. Petite. Windswept hair. Dragonfly brooch. Red eyes.
She rose and greeted him. Her smile was as strong as her grip. “We meet again.”
“So it seems. You remember Maria?”
“Of course. Join me? The office swirls with endless emergencies. This campaign finance business. A former employee who has disappeared. I came out here for some peace. I need quiet time to gather my thoughts and plan for the future.”
“I think our boss already reached out to you. You’re looking for someone to represent you on charges of campaign malfeasance, right?”
“I’m looking for someone to crush the bastards who are trying to destroy my political existence.”
“Same difference. More or less.” He was glad to see she wasn’t letting this sap her spirit. “You think this is politically motivated?”
“I know it is. It always is.”
He held up his hand to block the sun. “Who wants you out of office that badly?”
“Many people. Bigots. Sexist swine. If I’m removed, I’ll be replaced by the deputy mayor—a Caucasian male. And many people in this town will be much happier.”
“I would hate to see that happen.”
“I would hate it even more. So I need to lawyer up. Some people already see my administration as a sinking ship. We will show them they are wrong, yes?”
“Yes,” Maria said firmly.
“I haven’t worked this hard and come this far to let these penny-ante charges lay me low. Sit with me.”
He took the invite and sat beside her on the dune. Maria appeared to hesitate.
The mayor noticed. “I will share my blanket.” She pulled it out from under herself and unfolded it to accommodate three people.
“I don’t mean to be trouble,” Maria murmured.
“You are not. If I was wearing those jeans, I’d take care of them too.”
“You’re a fan of D&G?”
“I cannot afford such things.”
“Oh, they aren’t that expensive.”
“That is not what I mean. I can’t afford to be seen in such things.”
Ah. “I feel like we should clear the air,” he said. “We have some history. If this is going to be awkward, Maria can take the lead. You may not be comfortable having me involved at all.”
The mayor waved a hand in the air. “Don’t be silly. You were only doing your job.”
“That’s very understanding of you, mayor.”
“And please call me Camila, at least when we’re not on camera. All my friends do.”
“If you wish—Camila. Glad there are no hard feelings.”
“Listen to me. In my world, there is so much backbiting, scheming, controversy. I have learned to sense when someone cannot be trusted. You put me on the witness stand and did your job, but there was no malice in it. I much prefer that to the people who come into my office offering smiles and gifts—but in truth, bear only hate.”
He thought he understood what she was saying. “I don’t think I’d care for the world of politics.”
“You would survive. You’re tough, I can see that. And you have good instincts. A gift for seeing beneath the veneer. Piercing the facades people erect to conceal reality.”
“Connecting the dots,” Maria added. “That’s what he calls it. Careful observation, putting info into deep storage, then using it to make connections most people miss.”
He objected. “You’re making me sound like some kind of weird computer. The HAL 2000.”
Camila laughed. “You like classic movies.”
“The good ones.”
“I’d much rather watch a classic with real characters and clever dialogue than watch CGI superheroes fight every six minutes. Favorite movie?”
“City Lights.”
She clutched her chest. “My heart aches every time I see it.”
“And yours?”
“Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Naturally.”
The more time he spent with her, the harder she was to dislike. “What can you tell me about these alleged campaign finance improprieties?”
Camila sighed. “Back to business so soon?”
“If I’m going to talk the DA out of pressing charges, I need to understand the issues.”
“Fair enough.” She drew in the sand. “There are two problems, though more than one instance of each. The first relates to a loan I took to finance my last campaign.”
“From a bank?”
“Unfortunately, no. I had already taken as much from banks as they were willing to lend. This came from two friends. About a hundred and fifty thousand, total. I needed it to pay for the final surge of advertising.”
“Apparently it worked,” Maria said. “You won by a large margin.”
“Yes, it worked. But now my opponents want me to pay for it dearly. As you likely know, Florida limits the amount you can receive from individuals. Basically, it’s $2700 per cycle, per donor. If this loan is reclassified as a donation, it will vastly exceed the limit.”
“Did you paper the loan?” he asked.
“Of course. We drew up a note and executed it. I have copies of all the papers for you.”
“Good. I think we can deal with that.”
“You think we can win?”
“Ultimately, it doesn’t matter if we win. If you have to pay a fine, so be it. I just have to convince the DA there was no criminal intent. The prosecutor who I think has been assigned to this case is a reasonable human being. What’s the other problem?”
Camila drew in her breath. “That is more complicated. Most of the television advertising run during my campaign was paid for by a PAC—a political action committee. They have the freedom to do much that I would not be allowed to do personally, including raising large quantities of money.”
“Every candidate uses PACs. So what?”
“The PAC supporting my campaign— the St. Petersburg Committee for Change—was headed by Dr. Albert Kazan.”
“The architect? The one who designed and organized The Meeting Place?” A previous case—the one that put Camila on the witness stand—left Dan extremely familiar with Kazan, and everything he did to make St. Pete’s premiere public park a reality. “You worked with him on that project, right? Eminent domain. Tax breaks.”
“Yes, and that is the problem. By law, candidates and their campaigns are not allowed to have direct contact with PACs. It must be independent. No coordination.”
“Which is unrealistic and pointless, since the money is all going the same place. But those are the rules. Otherwise, PAC money is subject to the usual campaign finance regulations.”
“And if that happens to the huge sums Kazan collected, I will never be able to make it right.”
“Is there evidence of coordination?”
“According to the district attorney’s office, my campaign manager, Frank Esposito, met with Kazan on two occasions during the last week of the campaign. Frank says they only talked about the park. The DA suspects they talked about the campaign.”
“Were any third parties present?”
“I do not know.”
“I can’t see Kazan turning against you. Much less your own campaign manager.”
Her eyes turned downward. “I would hope not.”
He had the strong sense there was something she was not telling him. “I need to talk to my friend in the DA’s office. Find out what they have. This may be all smoke and mirrors. I want to nip it in the bud before it gets a lot of media play.”
“Too late.”
“Ok, before it gets any more. Some people never remember how a story came out. They only remember that accusations were made. I don’t want this messing up your reelection campaign.”
She sighed. “I had such ambition for this city. Build the future by reclaiming the past. Bring in new business. Expand tourism. Renovate downtown with bright colors and modern enterprises. Mass transit.”
“You’ll do all that. We just need to make these accusations disappear.”
She spoke slowly. “I...have been contacted by the National Democratic Committee.”
Maria leaned in. “You’re on their radar? That’s fantastic! Isn’t it?”
“There’s a Senate seat that may become vacant soon. They were exploring the possibility of me running for it.”
“The US Senate! That’s incredible! Our mayor!”
“And it needn’t stop with the Senate. There’s been talk of me addressing the next national nominating convention. Many expect the next Democratic presidential candidate to be female, possibly a woman of color. I would fit right in.”
He knew a convention address was widely seen as a testing ground for someone perceived to have major political possibilities. Possibly even presidential possibilities. Mr. K had it right. She had enormous potential—which was no doubt what turned her into a target. “We’ll prepare a report addressing each allegation and explaining that your actions did not violate the rules. Garrett’s researching this as we speak, and Jimmy is pulling all your campaign filings. Who knows—maybe this stems from a bookkeeping or accounting discrepancy. At any rate, I’m sure I can convince them there’s no basis for criminal charges.”
“I thought attorneys never made predictions about outcomes.”
That was the smarter approach. But he thought Jazlyn was too smart to be dragged into anyone’s political agenda. He could bring her around. “We’ll do everything possible. We won’t let you go down without a major fight. You’re kinda Maria’s hero, you know.”
Camila pressed a hand against her chest. “Me?”
Maria looked as if she wanted to crawl under a rock. “I didn’t say that...exactly.”
“She compared you to a Disney princess.”
Camila laughed. “I am nothing like a Disney princess!”
“She even told me she’d thought about working for your campaign.”
Camila pivoted. “Do you dislike working with this man?”
Maria’s face was a bright crimson. “Only when he acts like this.”
“My staff is almost entirely female. I could use a smart cookie like you in my reelection campaign. If I still have one.”
“And you will,” he insisted. “But stop trying to poach our talent. We’ll do everything possible to help you.”
“Good.” She thought for a moment. “Seriously? A Disney princess?”
“I’m sorry.” Maria looked completely flustered. “I didn’t intend to trivialize you. I meant no offense.”
“None taken.” She paused. “Wait, which Disney princess?”