| |
The man in the penthouse sat behind his huge redwood desk with hands calmly folded in his lap. There were no other chairs. The woman on the other side of the desk was forced to stand. Because he wanted it that way.
“Thank you for coming to see me today, Shawna. Is it all right if I call you Shawna?”
She smiled a bit, but it didn’t take psychic powers to see the smile was nervous. “Sure. I mean, that’s my name, isn’t it?”
He glanced at the dossier on his laptop, complete with photos, spreadsheets, and records going back to her grade-school years. “That’s your given name. Shawna Marie, correct?”
She said nothing.
“Do you like working at the courthouse?”
Her weight shifted from one foot to the other. “It’s a job.”
“It is that.” He smiled, but in a way he knew was more unsettling than reassuring. Like the smile of a cobra.
“Pays the bills.”
“And feeds your...what is it?” Clickety-click. “Three children. And that nephew you’re putting through school.”
“He’s great boy. Smartness off the charts.”
“I’m sure.” Clickety-click-clack. “B-average student.”
“Well...yes.”
“And you hope to send him to college.”
“Yes.”
“Community college?”
“Well...maybe at first.”
He looked at her for a long time. He could do a piercing glare without even trying. “You’ve lasted at the court clerk’s office longer than most.”
“I run a tight ship.” She laughed, but he did not join in. The laughter sounded forced. It faded awkwardly. “I like to think I do a good job.”
“You have your hands on the tiller?”
“I like to think so.”
“Know what’s what?”
“That’s part of the job.”
“What are your thoughts about this murder trial that’s getting so much attention?”
He could see that the mention of the case made her supremely uncomfortable. “You mean with the mayor?”
His eyes turned patronizing. “You know that I do.”
“I don’t know much about it.”
“Now you’re being disingenuous.”
Her reaction was slow, and her discomfort increased. Possibly, he speculated, because she didn’t know what the word meant. Which was exactly what he had intended. “I don’t think so...”
“Do you believe she’s guilty?”
Shawna looked as if she wanted to scream and run, but of course, she wouldn’t. She knew who he was. Every word he spoke was intended to remind her how powerful he was. That’s why he orchestrated this meeting in his penthouse suite. To convince her that he was not someone she wanted to trifle with.
“I don’t know.” Another awkward laugh. “To tell you the truth, I’ve never liked that woman. Kind of uppity, if you ask me. Thinks she’s so all that.”
“Do you think Judge Hayes likes her?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
He stared at her and waited. A long time.
“I have heard him say some things about her that...weren’t great. I mean, not now. Before the case began.”
“He doesn’t care for the mayor?”
“He’s a little...old school when it comes to women. Prefers seeing them in...traditional roles.”
“Did he mind you running the court clerk’s office?”
“Oh no. I don't think so. But in his mind, that’s basically a better-than-average secretarial position. Lawyers, that’s different. Politicians, that’s different.”
“Hayes doesn’t like women in positions of authority?”
“Like I said. Old school.”
He smiled and leaned forward. The cobra was ready to lunge. “See, you’ve already told me something I didn’t know. You understate your value, Shawna. I think you could be valuable to me. If you wish to be.”
“What...um, what is it you might want?”
“Information. The most valuable of commodities.”
“Like...?”
“I want to know what’s going on behind closed doors. In chambers. In conference rooms.”
“How would I know—”
“You’ll make it your business to know. Ask the judge’s clerk. The bailiff. The judge’s wife, if necessary.”
“That would be awkward.”
“Who knows, we might have an opportunity to...influence the judge’s decision.”
She looked at him incredulously. “Judge Hayes cannot be bought or swayed.”
He laughed, so loudly he surprised himself. “Naïve girl. Everyone can be bought. Everyone has something they’d do anything for. It’s simply a matter of knowing the price. And making sure you can offer it.”
“I have no way of knowing what’s happening in private meetings.”
“Use electronic eavesdropping devices.”
“Oh, I could never—”
“You’ve done it before.”
The expression drained from her face. “I—don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, but you do. I’m referring to one of your past transgressions. One of many.” He pushed to his feet and leaned closer to her. “I’m talking about Gabriella Valdez. And what you did for a certain someone. Who was in fact working with me at the time. We had big plans that fell apart.”
“You—You were behind—”
“That doesn’t matter now. I never dwell on the past. I focus on the future. I need to make sure this trial goes the way I want it to go, and I’m concerned about this lawyer the mayor has working for her. He has an annoying history of winning, successes that undercut my plans.” He felt his fists clenching. He willed himself to relax. “You will bring me information, whenever you can. I will expect daily reports. I want to know everything there is to know and then some.”
“I—I can’t do that.” Her voice trembled. “I’d lose my job.”
“Only if you’re clumsy. Or stupid.”
“Still—I can’t—”
“Would you rather lose your job or your life?”
Her knees wobbled. “Are you—Are you—”
“All I need to do is make one phone call. The DA will learn that you were in league with a certain person currently residing in the penitentiary. That you bugged the consultation room on the third floor. You will be fired. And then you will be tried on criminal charges. And what will happen to you in prison?” He patted his hand against his chest. “It’s such an ugly place, prison. Ugly and violent. Almost anything could occur. And so often does.”
“I was just trying to get money for my nephew.”
“And you succeeded. But actions have consequences.”
“I can’t spy on a judge.”
“You can. Or you can suffer the consequences. It’s entirely your choice.”
“Please.” Her voice choked. She couldn’t speak for several seconds. “I wouldn’t survive prison.”
“You’re right. You wouldn’t.” He eased back into his chair. “Do we have an understanding?”
“Yes. Of course. Anything you want.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He suddenly reached across the desk and grabbed her arm. “And just to be clear, you will send me a daily report on every development in the case. But you will also report on the activities of that defense lawyer. Watch him like a hawk. If you see anything that might make him vulnerable—a misdeed, a questionable choice, an infelicitous turn of phrase—you will tell me immediately. Any chance to have him fired, removed, disbarred, or eradicated from the face of the earth—I want to hear about it.”
He settled into his chair, eyes fluttering, hands once again calmly folded in his lap. “I don’t like to lose. And I do not intend to let it happen again.”