“Understood. I have appointments the rest of the day anyway. Apparently, there are a lot of—what do you call yourselves out here—ah yes, salt-of-the-earthers clamoring to invest in film.” Armond shook Robert’s hand, then nodded at Victoria. “I’d like to wrap up the engagement agreement between Renoir and your firm tonight, as well as the final trip details. My last meeting is tomorrow at noon, and I’m leaving as soon as it’s done. I need to be back in LA for a dinner meeting. Will that timing work for you?”
“It’s perfect. If we can meet around five tonight, that will give us enough time,” Victoria answered.
“See you then. Robert, Mary, I’ll see you the next time I’m in town. Kat,” he said leaning toward the speaker, “let’s connect this week.”
As soon as she heard the door shut, Kat asked, “Okay, what the hell is going on: an engagement agreement, trips, planning meetings?”
Victoria smiled. “Renoir Productions is about to triple my annual revenue. I’ll tell you about it later. Robert, where are we on tracking down potential witnesses? Did the firm answer our interrogatories about the identities and locations of the female attorneys who worked at the firm?”
Robert flashed the answers on the wall and told Kat to open the email he’d sent so she could follow along. “They did, and big surprise, they have no idea about the current location of the majority of those no longer at the firm. But, they did give us a list of names, so I’ve hired an investigator to track them down.”
Looking at the screen, Victoria nodded. “I know a few of them. Hopefully I can add some meat to the bones about what they did at the firm and where they stood in line for partnership.”
“V, some of these names look familiar. Didn’t a few of them contact you after you were let go, interested in being involved in any litigation you might bring? What the hell happened to them?” Kat asked.
“Yeah, they did. Bizarrely, when I called them, those who hadn’t disappeared told me they were no longer interested. I’m not wasting my time and energy on people who don’t have the backbone to stand up for themselves.”
“While I understand your frustration, Victoria,” Robert began, “empathy is critical. Obviously, it would be better if we had witnesses willing to testify they worked fourteen-hour days for that golden partnership ring only to be tossed out at the last minute, but it’s not unusual in this type of case for them to be all-in at the beginning and chicken out once they realize their names, stories, and testimonies will be bandied about publicly. Remember, some of them went on to work at other firms, and they don’t want to muck up their careers by getting in the crosshairs of three of the most powerful lawyers in the country. We can’t just toss them aside. We need to continue communicating with them, in hopes that one or more will change her mind and agree to testify.”
“I get it but nothing will change unless women say enough is enough, support one another, and do something about it,” Victoria responded, feeling suddenly overwhelmed and tired. She really didn’t want to be the lone woman fighting the firm. She never asked for her personal business to be the fodder for the press and the courts. Yet, here she was, and she was determined to see it through. At times, she couldn’t help but feel annoyed that others apparently expected her to fix the problem while they sat back and watched.
Sensing her best friend was feeling overwhelmed, Kat jumped in. “Why don’t we see what we find out about these potential witnesses once the investigator finishes his report, and then reconvene? There’s no point in going round and round about whether they will or won’t testify when we haven't even found them yet. Besides, your situation is different. You have the Miami case against the insurance company and the misdeeds of its board, you were the one trying to point out to your firm the problems you saw with the claim handling, and Armond is completely on your side. You’re probably one of the few women who has left the firm who actually has support from one of its male partners. All of that is good for your case, I’d think. Robert?”
“I agree. There are a number of facts in V’s case that are different from the typical case. Let’s see what the investigator turns up. Then, we’ll make some decisions. In the meantime, I think we should continue working on our trial strategy.”
“Great, count me in. V?” Kat asked.
“I think you and Robert should proceed without me at this point, as it looks like I’ll be out of the country with Armond. Assuming she’s not winging her way to the Pacific Coast to join Renoir Productions, Mary will set the next meeting for you two,” Victoria added quickly before Kat could begin interrogation.
Mary laughed. “I’ll let you know if I change my mind, but so far, I’m happy working for Ms. Ballbuster.”
CHAPTER
16
“THEY’RE ON THE move to locate women who worked at the firm. They’re quite serious about finding them, and they’re paying me a hefty sum to do the job.”
They stood huddled in the alley behind a nondescript bar in Chicago’s Old Town neighborhood. It was a moonless, black night and a cold, soaking rain had begun to fall. While he didn’t always like his clients, this one was different. There was a strong stench of rotten running through him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, and truth be told, he didn’t need to know, at least not yet. As long as the money continued to show up in his offshore account, he was happy to do his job. He had no qualms about getting paid by two masters. His own special brand of ethics allowed them to coexist. No one gives a shit about ethics anymore, he thought, and by the time this ends, I’ll be long gone.
“Here’s a list of some of the women and their current locations. The other women you won’t be able to locate. Understood?”
“I have a reputation to uphold. I can’t simply say I can’t find these other women. I need to show what I did to track them.”
“Here’s a news flash. I don’t give a rat’s ass about your reputation, but go ahead and tell them whatever story you need to maintain control. I’m making your job easy by telling you the outcome you’ll provide,” his contact said, as he turned and walked away.
CHAPTER
17
EVER SINCE HER daughter saved her life, Gretchen had experienced nightmares. They’d come slowly at first, like fog floating gently into town. But they’d picked up steam, and the most recent ones had her moaning and crying so loudly her husband now routinely woke her to stop whatever terror she was dreaming.
She was getting so little sleep she had a hard time staying awake to care for her daughter. The other morning she’d almost fallen asleep at the wheel driving to one of her daughter’s classes. It was only her daughter’s squeal of delight at something she’d seen outside that snapped her awake. Gretchen realized she was becoming a danger to herself and her family and could no longer delay facing the consequences of her conduct.
Close to two hours after leaving home, Gretchen pulled off the highway and drove another three miles down a two-lane road, weaving through dense forests and bobbing over rolling hills. She made another turn and finally saw the sign announcing her destination was just two miles down the road. Turning onto the town’s main street, she pulled into a parking spot for bank customers only. After a brief argument in her head, she walked in and handed her key to the lone banker sitting at his desk, playing with his phone. She signed in as requested and waited.
A few minutes later, Gretchen stood in the cold and eerily silent, private safety deposit box room and waited for the banker to leave and shut the door. She took out her key and looked at it. Once I begin this journey, she promised herself, there will be no turning back. She drew her shoulders back and with determination, opened the box. Two items lay inside. Gathering her resolve, she picked up the thumb drive and then the folded paper. Everything about that day more than two years ago came rushing back.
They had just returned from the beach after enjoying one of the last summer days before her daughter’s first day of pre-school. When they’d walked through their f
ront door, an envelope was lying on the floor, having obviously been slipped under. Gretchen had thought nothing of it as it was the way countless other work assignments had been delivered in the past, particularly if it was something important to one of the partners. She had tossed it on her desk and gone about the rest of her day.
Once her daughter was in bed and her husband was in the shower, she wandered into her office and picked up the envelope. Turning it over, she noticed it was marked confidential, and when she opened it, everything changed. Only two things were inside: the thumb drive and note. She had popped the thumb drive into her laptop and stared dumb-founded at the unfolding scene. Her first lucid thought was that someone was going to be mortified when they realized they’d mistakenly sent her a personal video. It was a sex party of some sort. Everyone had masks on and little else. Then a door in the back of the room opened and shock replaced curiosity. Someone who looked exactly like her entered and was the only unmasked person in the room. The camera zoomed in on her face, and a man off camera called her name. Over the next few minutes, her spitting image began performing a variety of sexual acts. She never watched the end.
Shaking her head in an effort to keep the past at bay, she forced herself to open the note and reread the words that had changed her life:
No one need know.
Gretchen suddenly felt dizzy and sweat broke out on her forehead. She grabbed the wastebasket under the table, fell to her knees and retched over and over until the retching turned to tears.
Sitting on the ground, she put her head in her hands and tried to catch her breath. Detesting herself for her weakness, she grabbed the counter and pulled herself up, shoving the items back into the box. After cleaning herself as best she could, she opened the door, signaled to the banker, and walked with him and waited while he used his key and then hers, to return the box to its crypt.
Gretchen walked out of the bank, got into her car, and sat and watched the people in the small town walk by, intent on their daily lives. While she was exhausted, she was surprised at how settled she felt. Recognizing she could not do it alone, Gretchen made the call she should have made years ago. She had failed today, but she would be damned if she would fail again.
CHAPTER
18
JENNY LOVED HER new home. It hugged a cliff in Corona Del Mar and seemed to hang over the ocean. While the structure itself was beautiful with west-facing glass walls, blanched wood floors, imported Italian marble, and fireplaces framed with hand-carved reclaimed wood, the feature that had sold her was its private access to Little Corona Beach. When the realtor had walked her down the long, flower-laden private stairs and opened the private access gate, she had been dumbfounded. There really wasn’t another word for it, she thought, recalling the magic of that day. Spread out before her had been a small beach cove, hidden by rugged cliffs that cocooned it in privacy. Black rock formations jutted up along its coastline, holding miniature oceans complete with sea urchins, snails, crabs, and the occasional star fish—all caught and available to observe until the next tide changed the scene. There was also a swimming lane, built by Mother Nature, between a string of rocks that ran from the shoreline to where the cove opened to the deep ocean. She had envisioned herself swimming there every morning. That had been six months ago, and she’d never been happier.
She had a routine she only varied, reluctantly, when a storm was rushing in or the June gloom was too heavy. Every morning, she would pour coffee into her favorite cup and walk down to her ocean paradise. If the weather was warm and sunny, she’d swim laps. If it was too chilly, she’d sit on the beach, finish her coffee, walk back up, and use her lap pool. In the evening, she’d sit on her deck, drink a glass of wine, and simply inhale all California had to offer. She had decided that it was the sound of the waves she connected with. For her, they were invigorating in the morning and calming in the evening.
As she took her first sip of wine, she heard her phone. Frowning at the interruption of her private time, she reluctantly headed in to answer. When she read the caller ID, she scowled and demanded, “What could you and I possibly have to say to one another?”
“Hello, Mother,” Billy said. “It sounds like you’re still miffed about that little tête-à-tête in court a few weeks ago. It would appear you’re going to overreact.”
Hearing her only child sound so foreign and as if he couldn’t care less about her filled her with sadness. It appeared that over the past year, she’d not only lost her husband, but her son too. Suddenly feeling exhausted and depressed, she asked again, “Billy, what could you and I have to discuss at this point in time?”
Sensing her disappointment in him, he became angry.
“Well, what did you think would happen?”
“Excuse me?” Jenny asked, not understanding his point.
“I know that tone of voice. How the hell did you think I’d turn out when you allowed Father to work me all day in the fields and then keep me locked up in meetings all night? If you didn’t want me to turn out like him, perhaps you should have intervened,” Billy finished, trying his best to make her feel sorry for him.
His little speech only fueled her. Standing up straight and turning to look out at the ocean, she responded in a steely voice, “How dare you blame me for your life of privilege. You grew up in the lap of luxury, with one of the largest tobacco plantations in the country as your home and inheritance, assuming your father doesn’t lose it all paying his legal fees.”
Billy had never heard his mother speak like this—ever. During his childhood, she was the obedient wife and loyal mother. She was always there for whatever his father or he needed or wanted. He wasn’t quite sure how to handle this change, so he did what always worked with women. He turned on the charm.
“Mother, I apologize. We got off to a bad start, and it’s my fault. I called to reconnect with you. I don’t want anything to come between us. That’s why I was so hurt when I found out you were trying to enter an appearance in Victoria’s case.”
Jenny could hardly believe what she was hearing. Apparently, her son thought her so stupid that all it took to get back into her good graces was a bit of charm. Shifting into trial lawyer mode and negating any personal feelings, she calmly responded, “I’m glad to hear that Billy. I must say I was quite stunned to hear you threaten me and with a lie about moving family money overseas. Why would you ever think to do that?”
“I was desperate.”
“About what? You have a sterling reputation in the legal community and with women’s groups. What are you worried about?” Jenny asked, genuinely surprised at her son’s candor.
“I’m not worried about me or the firm, but having my own mother on the other side of a case against my firm? My partners wouldn’t have understood, and frankly, they would have asserted immense pressure on me to handle you. If I’m being honest, I didn’t understand it either. Really, after the divorce you and Father just went through, I felt having you work with people who are trying to hurt my reputation was the last thing I could handle. I’ve even contacted a therapist to help me handle all the family changes,” Billy said, mustering the sad sack tone that had always worked with his mother.
“Billy, I’ve never known you to need a therapist. I’m sorry if the divorce and all of this is causing you that much stress. You should have come to me sooner. I’m always in your corner. That was one of the reasons I wanted to work on the case. I thought perhaps I could broker a resolution,” Jenny said, balancing mixed feelings, not at all sure she could trust her son’s sudden emotional barfing.
Feeling like he had his opening, Billy suggested, “Well, if you think you have a way to bring the parties together, I’m always open to that. As you know, there are rarely winners in litigation.”
“I’m always here for you, Billy. I’ll keep my eyes open and see what I can do. We’ll talk again soon. Bye, and Billy, I love you.”
“Yes, love you, too, Mother,” Billy answered, out of duty and pleas
ed with the way the call had gone.
CHAPTER
19
“WE NEED TO ensure our firm is never mentioned in the same sentence as that ruling,” Adam nagged Billy for the third time since last week.
“Adam, your whining is getting old. There is no way we’ll be associated with that decision. Except perhaps if you continue to talk about it in public,” Billy spat as he waved his arm around, pointing out that he, Trever, and Adam were sitting in the business club at O’Hare waiting for their flight to Japan.
“Well, it’s been headline news since the judge issued her opinion,” Adam persisted. They each had private berths on the plane, so once they boarded, any further discussion would be difficult. “If the reports are correct, it’s the first time a US court has allowed a child to be separated from his American parent to be raised in a foreign country.”
“Adam, the consulate general is the one who got us an audience with the Japanese trade minister. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Of course I understand, which is why I’m concerned some dogged reporter will be able to connect the dots be tween the judge, our firm, and our new engagement in Japan. What if the judge can’t handle the pressure? She is, after all, a family law judge. I highly doubt she has any experience being in the limelight like she is now. What if she cracks?” Adam persisted.
Leaning forward with his cigar clenched to the side of his mouth, Trever intervened. “Adam, there is no reason Her Honor will crack, as you so elegantly put it. It would mean she would not only lose her seat on the bench, but she would also lose her law license and her pension.”
Looking up at the server, Trever smiled. “Ah, thank you. Just in time.” After handing a heavy crystal glass to each of his partners, he raised his. “This is some of the finest Texas bourbon ever made. To us, to our newest office in Japan, and to the opening of the firm’s new trade department. I have a feeling we’re going to continue to be in high demand by countries renegotiating their US deals.”
Private Agendas: A Victoria Rodessa Legal Thriller Page 7
