CHAPTER 17
Traffic was miserable the next morning. By the time Bryce pulled into one of the underground parking spaces at Norcross Daniels, he was running late. He’d been tempted to use the SmartPark on Jefferson to avoid being seen in Melanie’s car, but it would have meant a four-block hike to his building, and with Jesse Lee Colton still on the loose he didn’t want to chance it. Better to take another ribbing from Asa than a bullet in the back. He stepped out of the old Honda and reached into the back seat for his coat.
“Oh no. Are you kidding me?”
The camel hair was covered in dog fur. Bryce slapped at it a few times, but the black and white hairs refused to budge. No matter, he thought. It wasn’t as if he were going to wear it into the meeting. He’d stop by Gemma’s desk later and see if she had one of those sticky roller things.
The sound of screeching tires alerted him to the approach of another car. Bryce saw a black Audi TT roar down the ramp and pull into a handicapped spot by the elevators. When the driver’s door flew open, he saw Asa carefully hang a disabled parking permit on the rearview mirror before getting out. Bryce felt his nostrils flare.
What a jerk.
For a moment, he considered taking the stairs. The office might be on the tenth floor, but it’d be worth it not to be trapped in the elevator with Asa. He was still feeling the effects of the EpiPen, though, and even if he did make it all the way, he’d be sweaty and out of breath by the time he got to the meeting. He’d just have to grin and bear it.
Asa had already pushed the button when Bryce walked up. He glanced pointedly at the coat.
“Long time, no see,” he said. “How was the vacay?”
“I was only gone for two days.”
“I see you got yourself a new set of wheels, though.” He looked back at the Honda and smirked. “You really outdid yourself this time, bro.”
Bryce gritted his teeth. He’d been hoping the guy hadn’t noticed.
“It belongs to a friend; mine’s at the detailer.”
Asa was watching the numbers over the door count down, looking oddly self-satisfied.
“A lot’s changed around here since you left.”
“Is that what this meeting’s about?” Bryce said.
“It is indeed. The population of Norcross Daniels is about to increase by one.”
The doors opened and the two of them stepped inside.
“Who is it, do you know?”
Asa moved his fingers across his mouth in a zippering motion.
“My lips are sealed.”
Fine, Bryce thought; he’d find out soon enough. As the doors closed, he kept his mouth shut and stared straight ahead.
The meeting was being held in the large conference room. By the time they got there, the senior attorneys were already seated around the table and the paralegals were standing along the walls. Bryce grabbed a cup of coffee at the cart and took the last seat at the table. As he sat down, he felt a jolt of surprise. Sofia Cardoza was sitting directly across from him. He’d barely had time to consider the implications before Preston Daniels walked in and called the meeting to order.
“I know we’ve all got work to do this morning,” he said. “So I’ll make this brief. After long and careful consideration, Norcross Daniels has hired its first senior female attorney: former municipal court judge Sofia Cardoza.”
Sofia smiled and dipped her chin at the smattering of applause, most of which came from the paras.
“Sofia’s exceptional work ethic is legendary and her history on the bench offers us a rare opportunity to gain insight into the jurist’s point of view, but it’s the impressive roster of new media clients she brings with her that we’re especially excited about.”
Daniels’s admin passed through the room, handing each person a list of Sofia’s clients. Bryce glanced at the first few names and set it aside. He’d look it over later.
“This is an amazing opportunity for all of us,” Daniels continued. “Sofia’s grasp of the unique challenges facing high-profile, media-savvy companies has positioned her to become one of the finest legal advocates in that sector on the West Coast, making her a magnet for the kind of new-economy clients Norcross Daniels will need as the legal landscape continues to evolve. With Sofia Cardoza on our team, we’ll be moving squarely into the twenty-first century and beyond.”
Bryce took a sip of coffee to hide his smile.
This from a man who still referred to computers as “fancy typewriters.”
“Of course, every legal firm has its own unique way of doing things, and Sofia is anxious to get up to speed as soon as possible. Therefore—at her suggestion,” he said, nodding in her direction, “I’m assigning one of you lucky young gentlemen to show her the ropes.”
Bryce felt a kick under the table and saw Asa grin as he straightened his tie. So, that’s what the guy had been so smug about, he thought. The old man must have given him a heads-up before the meeting. Ordinarily, showing a new hire the ropes would be left to an admin, but Sofia Cardoza was an important acquisition. After Daniels’s effusive introduction, it was clear that whoever he assigned to squire her around would be seen as a man on the move. In spite of himself, Bryce felt a twinge of jealousy.
Well, better him than me, he told himself. Sofia might be beautiful, but she could be willful and impatient, too. Asa was going to have his hands full. Then Bryce glanced back at Daniels and felt a chill. The man was staring right at him.
“I know you two will want to get started right away, Bryce, so take the rest of the day to clear your schedule. Starting tomorrow, you’ll be getting Sofia up to speed and putting together a support team so she can hit the ground running. Don’t let us down.”
Bryce was stunned. He’d promised Melanie he’d only be in town for one day; now he was committed to a week or more helping Sofia settle in. Not only that, but he had nowhere to stay. Going back to his condo was a nonstarter—if Colton could get into his building once, he could do it again—but driving back and forth from Fossett every day would be untenable. Nevertheless, it was an honor to be singled out by the boss, and when he saw the furious look on Asa’s face he couldn’t help feeling pleased.
As the room emptied, Bryce and Sofia remained seated, eyeing each other over their cups of coffee and sharing embarrassed smiles. Remembering Daniels’s comment that she’d asked for someone to assist her, Bryce wondered if she’d also suggested that he be the one to do it. If so, things between them could easily turn awkward. He’d have to make it clear at the outset that their relationship would remain strictly platonic.
“So.” Sofia grinned.
“So yourself.” Bryce leaned forward. “Why didn’t you tell me about this when I saw you last week?”
“I wanted to,” she said. “But it would have been indiscreet to say anything in front of the others. If you had joined me for a drink like I asked, I would have.”
Bryce felt his face warm, remembering how anxious he’d been to rebuff what he’d assumed was a come-on. Sofia was a beautiful woman whose personal style could be flirty—even seductive—at times, and wiser men than he had made the mistake of taking it seriously, to their detriment. He’d have to be careful not to read more into her behavior than was actually intended.
“I think Asa was counting on being the chosen one. When the old man picked me instead, he looked like he was ready to spit.”
“Yes, I saw that.” She giggled. “Poor thing.”
“I have to confess, though, Daniels really threw me a curveball with this assignment. I’ve been out of town the last few days and it was a complete surprise.”
“But where have you been?” She sobered. “Was it to do with Jesse Colton?”
Bryce hesitated. During the brief time that he and Sofia had been together she’d gotten an earful about the breakup with his ex-wife, and he wasn’t sure how she’d react if he told her he was seeing Melanie again. He was still unsure about their future together, and at this point the two of them weren’t even close to a full reconciliation. Better not to say anything than to try to justify something that might never be.
“An old friend asked me for some legal help,” he said. “The chance to get out of town was serendipitous.”
“But now you’re back and Colton is still free.” Her look was serious. “Surely, you’re not planning to return home.”
“No. Even with increased patrols in the area, I still don’t feel safe going back to my condo.”
Sofia reached for his hand.
“Then please, stay with me,” she said. “Strictly as a friend. When I accepted the judgeship, my house was equipped with an alarm system tied directly to the police. I have a lovely guest bedroom; I’ll even give you a key. You could come and go as you wish—”
“And if Colton found out where I was, we’d both be in danger.” Bryce shook his head. “It’s a generous offer, but I can’t let you risk your life for mine. Colton’s days as a free man are numbered. Until then, I’ll just have to lie low and be patient.”
She withdrew her hand.
“Of course. You must do what you think is best.”
Sofia nodded, as if to say the matter was closed, but Bryce had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time they had this conversation.
“Is this your first official day at Norcross?”
She shook her head, releasing a cloud of perfume.
“Monday,” she said. “Until then, however, there is much to do. I’ll be counting on you to meet my needs.”
Bryce nodded, reminding himself of his own good counsel. This was just Sofia being Sofia, unconsciously using a tactic he’d seen her employ in court to great effect when he was with the DA. When caught off guard, she used innuendo to distract and unnerve the competition while she considered her next move. In spite of Daniels’s declaration that hers was a senior position, it had been a while since Sofia was a full-time advocate and Bryce would be willing to bet that much of her recent success had been in arbitration, rather than at trial. There was also the pressure of being a “first” at Norcross Daniels weighing on her. Not just the first senior woman, but the first Latina in a prestigious firm of conservative old white guys. Rather than worry about whether or not she was trying to beguile him, Bryce told himself, he should see her behavior as a form of self-defense.
“So,” he said. “When do you and I get started?”
“Tomorrow. I am due in court at one o’clock this afternoon and there are still preparations to be made.”
“Who’s hearing your case?”
Sofia wrinkled her perfect nose.
“Samuel Hightower.”
“Ouch. Looks like you drew the short straw.”
Samuel Obadiah Hightower had been on the bench since dirt was young and he was about as close to being a “hanging judge” as there was in the state. A prosecutor’s dream, he regularly gaveled down the objections of defense attorneys, and his repertoire of facial expressions was so obviously biased in favor of the prosecution that the bar association had twice sanctioned him for improper influence. Nevertheless, getting rid of the man had proved impossible. At this point, the city’s defense lawyers were just running out the clock, hoping to avoid his courtroom until the man retired.
“Yours must be one of the last cases on his docket. I hear he’s retiring at the end of the year.”
“December the twenty-second,” she said. “It had not escaped my notice.”
Sofia tossed her head as if making her case in front of the hardest heart on the bench was nothing special.
“We have a good case,” she said. “I am not afraid of that old man.”
As she stood, Bryce had to admire her confidence, even if it was just whistling in the dark. He doubted even Sofia could charm Sam Hightower.
She smiled coquettishly.
“Until tomorrow, then.”
He nodded.
“Until tomorrow.”
Bryce felt a bit at sea as he returned to his office. Gemma had left a stack of messages on his desk and his in-box was overflowing. Even after only a few days away, the shock of being back in the pressure cooker was disorienting and he found himself reluctant to jump right back in.
He stood at the window and looked down at the city. Somewhere out there was a man who wanted to kill him just for doing his job. Sofia had assumed that he was afraid to go out in public, which was true. He was afraid of pain, afraid of being tortured the way Colton had tortured his other victims, afraid of dying before he’d had a chance to really live. But when he thought about Colton the man, it wasn’t fear Bryce felt but contempt. Colton was from a good family, he was educated, he’d had advantages a lot of people didn’t get, and yet he’d chosen to kill—and not only kill but also do it in a particularly heinous way. Having to exercise some caution until a man like that was back behind bars was a small price to pay for bringing him to justice.
Speaking of justice.
Bryce fished Melanie’s keys out of his coat pocket. Maybe he’d just head over to Glen Wheatley’s office and see what the latest was.
* * *
The increased police patrols around MacDonald’s condo had done their job. Jesse Lee had tried several times to get back into the building, but the residents had been warned not to buzz anyone in without an ID and he’d had to abandon his efforts in favor of the second target on his list.
Spotting Vance Rowland at the dinner table had been a stroke of luck and shooting him in front of his wife and kids was especially satisfying, but after the first shot all hell had broken loose and Jesse had been forced to hightail it before the cops showed up. As he sat on the sidewalk outside Norcross Daniels that morning, he was still working on a plan to finish the job.
A man tossed a coin into the upturned hat and Jesse mumbled the obligatory, “God bless you.” That was the funny thing about hiding in plain sight, he thought. Everyone had heard about it and no one believed it. Every man jack thought he could spot a fugitive if he saw one on the street, but even people who were good with faces drew a blank if you asked them to describe the homeless guy they passed every day on their way to work. Cops, of course, were better at it. When you saw the same folks day after day—how they moved, the places they hung out, their methods for wheedling a few bucks out of the public—it sort of stuck with you. That’s why it had been important for Jesse Lee to look like one of the regulars; a new guy on the street would have been spotted in an instant.
But MacDonald was being extra cautious. Even with the stepped-up police patrols, he hadn’t returned to his condo. Sooner or later, though, the man would have to go to his office, and as luck would have it, there was a homeless guy about Jesse Lee’s height and weight whose regular spot was just a few steps from the building’s parking garage—the perfect place to conduct surveillance. He’d simply followed the man back to his hovel one night and persuaded him to give up his clothing. And the hat, of course—the hat was important. By the time anyone found the man’s body, Jesse would be long gone.
He heard a car coming up the ramp and ducked his head, turning his chin slightly so he could see the driver as it emerged without revealing too much of his own face. Chances were good that it wasn’t his quarry; MacDonald rarely left work before six. Nevertheless, he felt a stab of disappointment when the old Honda came into view. Jesse turned away, reminding himself that surveillance was a long game. To win it, you had to be patient.
A woman in a pink coat walked up and stuck a dollar bill in his face.
“Here you go, young man.”
Jesse didn’t really care about the money, but if he was going to pull off his disguise he could hardly ignore her. As he raised his head to offer another compulsory blessing, the Honda turned in front of him and he got a good look at the driver.
MacDonald!
No wonder he hadn’t seen the man’s car that morning. He’d swapped his old BMW for an even older Civic. Was it a coincidence, he wondered, or had Bryce MacDonald done it deliberately to throw him off the scent? Either way, Jesse Lee had only seconds to memorize the car’s details. As he snatched the bill from the woman’s hand, he stared after the receding automobile, committing the Oregon license plate to memory along with the make, model, and color of the car. This was the break he’d been waiting for, he thought triumphantly. The first person on his hit list was almost within his grasp.