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Dan could have used his phone to text everyone into the kitchen. “Avengers Assemble” or something like that. But texts were easily ignored, even when he leaned in on the exclamation points and added emojis. Experience told him there was a far more effective means of luring his teammates out of their private offices.
“Do I smell food?” Jimmy asked. His cardigan was unbuttoned, which was his way of observing Casual Friday.
“Indeed you do.” He lifted his sauté pan off the burner. “Homemade gnocchi with Pomodoro.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened. “Homemade? Like you made all the little pasta pillows?”
“I did.”
“You put the crinkles on the ends?”
“I did.”
“That must’ve taken forever.”
“Nah. I made the pasta dough and kneaded it this morning around sunup.”
Jimmy took a bite. “I am in heaven. What’s in the sauce?”
“Champagne vinegar. Parmesan. Basil sprigs. And a few secret ingredients.”
“You added vanilla extract.”
“I would never. I scraped the seeds from vanilla beans. Huge difference. The rich complexity and flavor notes of a true vanilla bean become a one-note sweetness when distilled to an abstract.”
Maria wandered into the kitchen. “I don’t care how you made it. If it tastes as good as it smells, I’m in. Does this have meat in it, Dan?”
“I want you to eat it, not scorn it.”
Garrett was the last down the stairs. “Suppertime?”
“Yes, Snoopy. Grab a plate, then let’s gather in the living room. We need to talk about what this case has turned into. This may be our last chance to share a meal for a while. So let’s make the most of it.”
Jimmy covered his mostly full mouth and spoke. “If we’re going to make the most of it...”
“Yes, Jimmy. There’s dessert. Profiteroles and homemade vanilla toffee crunch ice cream.”
Jimmy beamed. “Best law firm ever.”
* * *
After Dan briefed them, Garrett was the first to break the silence. “I think we should let Mr. K weigh in on this murder business. He might not like the latest development.”
“Mr. K has always told us we can take cases on our own.”
“When time permits. But something like this could bring down the whole firm.”
“He’s the one who brought Ossie to our attention. You think he’ll want to abandon the kid now?”
Garrett twisted his neck. His conservative leanings—and his former prosecutor status—were beginning to show. “I...just don’t know.”
“As it happens, I’ve already sent K a text. Hoping for an answer soon. But one way or the other, I’m taking this case.”
Maria leaned forward. “You think Ossie’s innocent.”
“I do.”
“You might be wrong,” Garrett said.
“I’m not.”
“No one is right all the time, Dan. Not even you.”
“Granted. But I’m not wrong about this.”
“I’m in,” Jimmy said, plopping his plate down on the table. “I like the kid. I don’t want to see him get railroaded.”
Garrett’s teeth ground together. “We don’t know that he’s being—”
“I know the cops are already circling the wagons,” Jimmy said, “trying to put him away forever, because he’s the obvious suspect. The easy suspect. Or maybe there’s another reason we don’t know yet. In any case, I don’t like it.”
“One thing is for certain,” Dan said. “We don’t know everything there is to know about what happened. We don’t even know half what we need to know. We need to start investigating. Garrett—given your obvious reservations, can we count on you for this?”
Garrett drew up his shoulders. “I am a member of a team. If the team takes the case, I’ll give it one hundred percent.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. Jimmy, I know you’re already snooping around—”
Jimmy cut him off. “Why is it you call Garrett’s work ‘investigating,’ and my work ‘snooping around?’”
He blinked. “I’m sorry. I know you’re already delving into your social contacts—”
“Oh, much better.”
“—and now you need to do it even more so. And we need to talk to those relatives. When so much money is at stake—anything is possible.”
“Dan,” Maria said, “what about maybe getting a jury consultant?”
“You’re the only jury consultant I need.”
“Maybe not this time. You can read faces and Jimmy can check people out on social media, but I think there’s going to be an onslaught of publicity about this case. We have to make sure no one slips into the jury box who has already decided Ossie is guilty. Or finds the facts so disturbing they vote to convict just to feel like they’ve done something.”
“I still think you’re better at it than some alleged jury expert.”
“And I think I need help. For that matter—maybe we should run some mock trials. Get people in off the street. See how the facts play out.”
“You know I hate all that crap. This has become a cottage industry for so-called experts taking money from defendants foolish and rich enough to pay them.”
“We have a young boy’s life on the line, Dan. Not to mention a billion dollars.”
“Still—”
The doorbell rang.
He turned, annoyed. “Anyone expecting a client? A package?”
All three shook their heads.
“Whatever. I’ll go.” He opened the front door—
His lips parted wordlessly.
The woman on the other side of the door peered back at him. Tall. Strong. Obviously worked out regularly. Dressed all in black. Red hair in a bun. Asian dragon tattoo on her neck.
“Prudence Hancock.”
She smiled. “So pleased you remember me, Mr. Pike. May I come in?”
“We’re—in the middle of something.”
“This won’t take long.”
“How can I say no to the Chairman of the Citizens for Responsible Democracy?” He opened the door and ushered her inside.
He didn’t need psychic powers to know what was going through the minds of his teammates. He’d let the serpent into the garden. And they did not like it.
He’d met Prudence once before, though he’d seen her in the courtroom several times. She was Conrad Sweeney’s top assistant, executing his orders with efficiency, effectiveness—and ruthlessness. Her organization was a charitable front Sweeney used to maintain his public facade.
Garrett rose. “What brings you to our office today, Ms. Hancock?”
“Can’t you guess?” She strode across the room with the air of a dominatrix, then seated herself on the sofa beside Maria, who looked distinctly unpleased to have her so close. “I want a powwow. On a matter that concerns us both. You’re representing the kid claiming to be Ossie Coleman on murder charges, right?”
Dan’s eyes narrowed. “How can you know that? We haven’t even entered our appearance yet.”
“There’s not much I don’t know, Mr. Pike. And absolutely nothing my boss doesn’t know.”
He shouldn’t let her get to him, but something about her steely cold manner seriously creeped him out. “Is your boss having me followed? Do you have a spy at the jailhouse?”
More frigid smiles. “That would be telling. And completely irrelevant.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Why are you here?”
She spread her hands wide. Maria dodged to avoid making tactile contact. “I’ve come to offer you my assistance. My help, and Dr. Sweeney’s help, of course.”
“Doctor Sweeney?”
“He has recently received honorary doctorates from three universities.”
“That he gave generous donations to,” Jimmy grunted.
“Is there something wrong with contributing to higher education?”
No one commented.
“Did you hear the part about me offering to help? Dr. Sweeney is concerned about your client. He thinks your boy is being treated unfairly and wants to help.”
Dan took a step closer. “He thinks Ossie is innocent?”
“My employer is not prepared to take a position on that at this time. He wants to wait until more evidence has been uncovered. But he does believe this business with the estate has become complicated. Perhaps dangerous.”
“Sweeney knows the family, doesn’t he? Especially the patriarch. Zachary Coleman.”
“He’s known the family for some time. And that is...part of his concern.” She reached into her pocket—she did not carry a purse—and withdrew a checkbook. “We are prepared to make a sizeable contribution to your defense fund.”
“What’s in it for you?”
“Nothing. Can’t you believe Dr. Sweeney wants to prevent injustice in his own town?”
“I can believe a huge egotist wants to be perceived as more important than he is.”
“You’re too cynical. My boss is a generous man.”
“When he sees an advantage in generosity. What is it he wants in exchange for this contribution?”
“Nothing, really. He would just want to be informed about and involved in the defense.”
“He wants to know our plans? Strategies? So he can undermine them? No thanks. We don’t need your money.”
“I can assure you there are no strings attached.”
“There are always strings attached.”
“Couldn’t you use some financial aid? A case like this requires—”
“We have all the resources we need, thank you.”
“Ah, yes. From the mysterious Mr. K. Is that why you’re turning me down? Are you afraid Mr. K might not like it?”
“I know he wouldn’t like it.”
She made a tsking sound. “So sad. A grown man like you, completely dominated—and you don’t even know who this K is.”
“I know who he is. I just don’t know his name. He withholds his identity from everyone to insure—”
“Not from everyone.” She grinned.
“What?”
“No secrets from Dr. Sweeney.”
“I think it’s time for you to leave.”
She slapped her knees and rose, peering at him almost nose-to-nose. “Maybe you and I could continue this conversation...somewhere more private.”
Behind her, he could see Maria making a gagging face. “That will never happen.”
“Never say never.”
“Okay. Then how about I say, Go to hell.”
She strode toward the door, shaking her head. “None of us knows what the future holds. If you change your mind, just whistle.”
She let herself out.
Jimmy shivered. “Man, that woman gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
“I know,” Maria said. “I feel like I’ve been lap dancing with Cruella DeVille. What’s her game, Dan?”
“No clue.”
“It’s not impossible that Sweeney genuinely wants to help,” Garrett said. “He is a public figure and a major policy maker in this town. Maybe he wants to prevent an injustice. Just as you do, Dan.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Deep breath. “But no. Sweeney doesn’t do anything unless there’s something in it for Sweeney. I don’t know what that is. But we need to. Because blind spots will doom us.” He turned his head abruptly. “Maria? Hire your jury consultant.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re sure?”
He rubbed his hands together, as if trying to fight off a chill. “No stone unturned this time. No stone unturned.”