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Dan walked to the street nearest the marina. He didn’t feel like spending the night alone on his boat, and since Jazlyn had already given him the get-lost speech and he wasn’t dating anyone, he called Maria. He said they needed to confer on their trial strategy, but she didn’t need his help to devise a trial plan.
He just didn’t want to be alone.
Maria said she’d pick him up. About three minutes later, he saw a shiny Jag SUV zoom onto the street. Even in the darkness, it was an impressive automobile.
The car pulled up beside him. He opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. “Thanks for coming. I thought we might discuss—”
He glanced at the driver.
It was not Maria.
Dark glasses, beard, and a low-slung hat obscured most of his face.
Before he could open the door again, the driver floored it. In seconds, they were doing sixty down a straight stretch of city road. If the driver made it to the highway, he could maintain that speed for a long time.
Jumping out of a speeding car in the dark seemed like a poor idea, so he tried conversation instead. “Who the hell are you?”
The driver smiled. “I’m your personal chauffeur. Where can I take you?”
“Home.”
“To your boat? The Defender? Registration #FV67392?”
He felt a chill in his bones. The man was showing off, making a point. Effectively. “Yeah. That one. Take me there.”
“In time. Perhaps.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m just here to deliver a message.” He careened around a curve, hitting it so hard wheels lifted off the pavement. “From my boss.”
“And who would that be?”
“Names aren’t important.”
“Useful, though.”
“My boss is concerned about this case you’re handling.”
His teeth clenched. “Your boss wants me to quit?”
“Nah. That would attract too much suspicion. You can keep the case. Just make damn sure you lose.”
He scanned the car, searching for something he might be able to turn into a weapon. He didn’t see any contenders. Could he somehow signal? Get someone’s attention? Seemed unlikely. Grab the wheel? Too dangerous. Punch the driver? Equally risky. “You realize I’ll probably lose even if I try to win. The prosecution has a strong case and the press has already convicted her.”
The driver jerked the wheel one way then the other, throwing him wildly back and forth across the Jag. He braced his arms against the top and side of the car, trying to avoid bashing into the dashboard. Was this some bizarre suicide mission? If the driver crashed at this speed, they were both dead.
He pulled out his cell phone. “I’ve put up with enough of this. Take me home or I’m calling the cops.”
“Put that thing away.”
He held his finger over the screen. “Last chance. Take me home.”
“Put it away, Pike.”
“Dialing.” He touched the screen.
“Put it away or you’re dead.” A glint of reflected light told him the driver held a gun.
He weighed the chances he might be able to wrestle the gun away. It was not impossible. The driver had to keep one hand on the wheel, and for matter, had to keep his eyes on the road. Or should.
But could he get the gun before the man pulled the trigger?
Doubtful.
He eased the phone back into his pocket.
“That’s a good boy. Now listen. We’re watching you, understand? We’re watching you every second of every day. Inside the courtroom and outside. We have eyes everywhere.”
He remembered earlier, when he thought he saw someone outside the bakery. Was that this goon? Or someone else working for the same boss?
“Go ahead, try the damn case. But you make sure you lose. Botch a cross-examination. Give a lame closing. We don’t care how you do it. All we care is that the bitch ends up behind bars where she belongs. For a good long time. Until she’s no longer a contender. For anything.”
“Are you that afraid of her?”
“It ain’t about bein’ afraid. It’s about being smart.”
This seemed like an extreme way to eliminate an opponent, even given today’s toxic political environment. There had to something more to it. “Do whatever you like. You don’t scare me.”
The driver grinned. “We won’t just be watching you, of course. We’ll be watching Maria Morales. You like her, right?”
He did not respond.
“We’ll be watching Jimmy Armstrong. We’ll be watching Garrett Wainwright. We’ll be watching Jazlyn Prentice. And what’s that cute little girl of hers called? Esperanza? We’ll be watching her too.”
His eyes turned cold. “Representing clients literally is my business.”
“Well, do a crappy job of it, or everyone you know in the world is dead. Got it, Pike?”
He realized he was breathing hard and fast. His pulse raced, almost as fast as the death car he was riding in. “I noticed you didn’t threaten my client.”
“Boss don’t wanna do that. Says it might turn her into a martyr. He wants to destroy her a different way.”
By turning her into a convicted murderer. “Are you waiting to hear me agree? Do you want me to sign a contract in blood?”
“You’re a smart boy. We’re confident you’ll use common sense.” All at once, much too suddenly, the driver slammed on the brakes. Dan’s head crashed into the dash. The driver must’ve laid a mile of tread on the pavement. “We’ve arrived.”
He looked out the window. They’d done a complete loop. He was back where the man had picked him up. And if he wasn’t mistaken, that was Maria’s car a few feet in front of them.
Before he knew what was happening, the passenger side door popped open and a strong pair of hands shoved him out of the car. He toppled face-first onto the pavement. The car peeled off into the darkness. He didn’t have time to get a license number.
Slowly, he pushed himself off the pavement. He sat upright, then touched his face. His chin was bleeding, and his head felt like it had been cut open.
He heard a car door open. Maria ran toward him. “Dan! What happened?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
She helped him to his feet. “Are you okay to walk?”
“I’m fine. Just a little...shaken.”
“Who was that?”
He limped toward her car. His left ankle felt twisted, maybe sprained. “Someone who does not want us to win Camila’s case.”
Maria pulled out her phone. “I’ll call the police. Then Jazlyn.”
“No.” He clamped his hand over her phone. “They can’t do anything. I have no ID to offer. And it might be perceived as a stunt to garner sympathy.”
He braced himself against her car and eventually opened the passenger door. “Our priority is Camila. Doing what’s best for her and her case. Even though someone very much doesn’t want us to.” He slowly lowered himself into the seat. “And they are...watching.”