“Have you seen one of these shows before?” the man asked. “I have no idea how these women can do all these things with their—”
“I’m not here to chitchat. What’s the status? And, in the future, I refuse to meet you at one of these places,” Adam insisted.
Having been in this business for so many years, the man well knew that many people who hired investigators felt they were of a different, better class. He could understand where their attitude came from since they were typically in positions of power and had fought their way to the top. He often wondered, though, how ignorant these people were not to consider that he likely knew things about them they wouldn’t want made public—like the assignment they had hired him to do. Remembering this was his last meeting before he retired, he slapped Adam on the back just to screw with him and said, “Sure thing. Here’s a copy of what I gave them.”
Adam took the envelope and was about to shove it into his bag and leave when he felt the man’s giant hand wrap firmly around his wrist. “What the hell are you doing?”
“It stays with me. You can look at it right here,” the man responded, his affable look changing to a steely glare.
While Adam’s antennae went up, he wasn’t about to be bullied by some lackey he paid. “Listen,” he said, shifting his tone to one of camaraderie, “I respect and understand your need to protect yourself. You can trust me. I am, after all, paying you a very hefty sum, and I’m sure you’d like me to continue to do so.”
The man laughed out loud and slapped Adam on the back again. “You’re threatening me. Oh, that’s rich,” he said, intensifying his gaze and squeezing Adam’s wrist even tighter. “You little shithead, do you have any idea how many heads of state I’ve dealt with? CEOs and politicians? Can you imagine the secrets I hold on them? And you think I don’t have information on you and your little pip-squeak partner friends?”
Adam was stunned. He searched his brain for a way to exit what should have been an easy meeting and return to the safety of his hotel. He’d worked with this man for years and had never experienced this behavior. Mustering whatever charm he had to the surface to overtake the fear, Adam said, “Let me buy you a drink as an apology. We got off on the wrong foot tonight.”
A sudden smile came across the man’s face, and Adam felt the pressure on his arm abate. “I knew we’d see eye to eye. Now, why don’t you take a look at this document before I torch it? Then, we can discuss my additional terms.”
“Additional terms?” Adam asked. “This was the end of the assignment.”
His companion roared with laughter. “You are a hoot! Of course it’s not the end. There’s more they want and unless you want me to get it for them, there’s much more I’ll need from you.”
“How much more?” Adam asked.
“With all I know about you and what’s been going on, I’d say seven figures is fair.”
Adam’s mouth hung open in shock, while the woman at center stage began shooting ping pong balls from her hooha, some of which whizzed perilously close to his head.
CHAPTER
42
GRETCHEN LOOKED FORWARD to her meetings with James. He was smart, savvy, and, most importantly for her, he felt like her hero. She knew how ridiculous that sounded but it was how she felt, and it was a good feeling to have after years of being in her self-imposed solitude. He also respected her privacy and didn’t push her. Over the past month, they’d met three times. Each time, she’d opened up a bit more about who she had been and sadly, who she was now. When it got too painful, they’d stop talking about her and he’d tell her his plans.
Gretchen was amazed a kid James’ age was earning a significant income from clients all over the country. What had started as a lark, was a successful and profitable business. He was waiting for her at his door. Looking at his eager, smiling face, Gretchen realized James had become more than a hired gun. He was her friend. She’d forgotten how good that felt.
“It’s a beautiful day. I thought perhaps we could walk and talk if that’s okay with you.”
“How much time do we have?” Gretchen asked, a bit nervous about a change in routine.
“All the time in the world. My parents are gone until next Monday. They drove down to southern Illinois to visit my grandparents. I have the house all to myself,” he answered with a huge smile on his face.
Gretchen couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Hmm, you look like someone who’s about to have his first party without his parents. When’s it happening? Tonight, or have you planned a weekender?”
James stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down before he answered. “I don’t really have any friends my age. I never fit in at high school. Partying was the kind of thing all the kids wanted to do, but it never really interested me. I’ve always hung out with people much older than me…you know, like you.” He looked over and smiled.
“Well, I can understand that. You’re incredibly smart and on your way to becoming a successful business owner while most of your peers are pledging frats or sororities or getting notches on their belts.” Gretchen empathized. “But you, you’re someone special, and nothing can beat that. And, I’d love to go for a walk while we talk.”
“Great,” James said, a smile lighting up his face. “Give me a minute. I’ve got to get something.” He turned and ran into his house.
He came bounding out with a bundle of puppy joy running beside him. Straining to the end of the leash, the puppy started to run, stumbled over its oversized paws, and threw its weight into Gretchen. Laughing and bending down to greet the new addition, she asked, “What do we have here?”
“His name’s Sam. He’s a shepherd mix. I got him from the humane society. He’s eight weeks old, neutered, and ready to rumble. I hope you like dogs.”
“I love them. We always had dogs when I was growing up,” Gretchen responded, squatting while Sam cuddled between her legs and licked her face. Laughing, she sat on the ground so the pup could thoroughly check her out.
James was grateful Sam had done exactly what he’d hoped—bring a bit of unguarded joy to one of his favorite clients. While he knew he couldn’t get this involved in all his clients’ lives if he wanted to grow the business to its potential, Gretchen had become one of his favorites, and she’d also given him legal advice.
“Okay, let’s go. He’s not a great walker yet. Kind of dawdles along,” James warned.
“He’s perfect,” she answered, scratching behind his partially-folded ears. “Absolutely perfect. Would you mind if I held his leash?”
“Not at all,” James answered. As they neared the corner, he asked, “Is there a point where you’d like to start?”
Gretchen felt panic rising and her heart racing. Once she began, there’d be no going back. For more than two years, she’d kept the shame of it to herself, but she couldn’t go back to being afraid of what she’d done—if she’d really done those things.
As if reading her mind, James offered, “If it’s easier for you, I can ask questions and you can answer.”
“That would be better.”
“How long ago did this happen—the envelope under your door?”
“About two years ago. This coming August will make three,” she answered, clearly remembering the day. “Do you have the envelope it was delivered in?”
“I don’t. I tossed it right after I opened it. It was a plain manila with no origination marks of any kind. Other than a confidential mark, there was no handwriting or postage or return address. None of that was unusual though, as I’d of-
ten received work the same way.”
“Did you watch it right away?”
“No. I thought it was work. I waited until later that night.”
“Tell me a bit about your work: where you worked, how long you were there, what you specialized in,” James said, wanting to step away from her having to relive watching it for the first time.
Gretchen felt surprisingly at ease as she watch
ed Sam play with a leaf blowing in the wind. For the first time, she felt no emotional pain remembering her former life. “I’d been a lawyer for almost seven years. I worked with officers, directors, and the management of companies, helping them with corporate governance and regulations.”
“Okay,” James said. “Now, once again, in English, please.”
Gretchen nodded in appreciation. “Now you know how I feel when you talk. There are rules and regulations that companies and management must follow. I helped them stay on track and ensured that they didn’t screw the pooch, so to speak.”
“Can you give me an example?”
“Sure. Let’s say you own a company that wants to do business with a foreign entity. The US has certain rules and regulations that control that type of interaction, one of which is the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act. If you violate the provisions of the act, the federal government can charge you with a crime. Simply put, I would help shepherd your business toward achieving its goal without being penalized.”
“Hmm. Could you have pissed someone off by, for instance, preventing a deal because you didn’t like the cut of their jib?”
Gretchen thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess anything is possible, but that’s unlikely. Typically, if I was concerned about a transaction, I’d alert the person handling it and we’d think through ways to get it done without the questionable person or money.”
“What if someone had been financially hurt by your advice? Maybe they’d want you out of the picture.”
Gretchen bent down to scratch the pup’s belly as he rolled around in the soft grass, exposing his stomach and kicking his gangly legs into the air. Thinking for a minute, she looked up at James, squinting to keep the sun out of her eyes. “I suppose that’s possible, but the decision wasn’t mine to make. The company’s management had to sign off on any changes.”
“Yes, but you were the one who alerted them to an issue and gave the recommendation of go or not go, true?”
“All true.”
“So, I think it would be important for you to make a list of companies you represented where you quashed a deal or stopped an investor from getting involved.”
Nodding her head in agreement, Gretchen stood to continue their walk.
“I hate to ask this, but were you involved in any extra-curricular activities?”
Gretchen glanced at James sideways and decided to give him a bit of a hard time. “You mean like soccer or running a marathon?”
“No, no. Like…well…were you and your husband into alternative lifestyles?”
“You mean were we hippies or into Rastafarianism? No,” she answered, wondering how much more painful James was going to make this for himself before he simply asked.
James glanced at Gretchen and saw she was just about to burst out laughing. “You’re yanking my chain, aren’t you?” he said, relieved.
“Yes. And, no. We did not, nor do we, engage in free living, alternative arrangements, or sex with more than each other. We’re quite traditional.”
“So it’s safe to assume then, that this was not from a jilted lover or some sex psychopath?”
“Yes, very safe.”
“Is there anyone you can think of who might have been jealous of you? Perhaps a coworker?” James continued.
“No one I can think of. I was well-liked as far as I knew and was on the partnership track. I would have been up for consideration by the nominating committee over the next year or two.”
“Why didn’t you ever go to anyone with this?”
“Two reasons. First, I was afraid I had done this, and if I had, my career and my marriage were at risk. Second, the note implied that if I went to anyone, it would be available in the public domain. I believed them.”
“Okay. I think that’s enough for now. But I do want you to concentrate on that list. See what you can recall. Now, let’s head back to the house. I want to show you what I’ve found.”
CHAPTER
43
“WELCOME HOME,” VICTORIA stretched and said out loud as her plane landed at O’Hare. The crew had been nice enough to agree to her request to leave LA before dawn. That meant that, even with the time change, she could make it to her apartment, take a quick shower, and still get to her office by noon.
Picking up her phone, she texted Mary to give her the schedule for the day: Noon to two, no interruptions so I can catch up on the hundreds of emails. Two to three, meet with you to address any fires. After that until five, no interruptions so I can prepare for my hearing. Finally, set calls with Jenny and Kat for a status on my cases.
As the plane rolled to a stop, Chen thanked Victoria for allowing her to practice her makeup skills and told her the Renoir family had hired a car and driver for her to use as she needed for the remainder of the day.
Once Victoria was settled in the car, she checked her phone and saw that Robert had texted her. Dialing his number, she expected to leave a message. “Well, the world traveler has returned. Are you sure you’re ready for us mere Chicago steak and potato mortals?” he joked.
“You can take the girl out of the South Side but—what’s up? I saw your text and thought I’d get your voicemail. I just got off the plane and I’m on my way home to take a quick shower and then head to my office. How are you? How’s my case? I feel like I’ve been gone forever.”
“Everything is good. Kat has been a big help. I must say I didn’t expect it but the spoiled little rich girl from Houston has a brain in that pretty little head of hers.”
Victoria cocked her head as she listened. Robert was prim, proper, and straitlaced. His referring to Kat as a pretty little whatever was rather shocking. Victoria began cautiously, not wanting to scare him back into his proper four walls. “It sounds like the two of you got along better than you thought you would.”
“She’s smarter than she looks, and I’ll deny I ever said that if you tell her,” he said. “We’d like to do something a bit out of the ordinary for your case, and I want to discuss it with you first, of course. Do you have time to meet today?
“Well, now I’m dying to know what it is. Unfortunately, I have zero time today. I have a huge argument in federal court tomorrow, and my day is devoted to preparing and returning calls. I can meet tomorrow afternoon when I’m finished in court. Will that work?”
“Perfect. Just give me a ring when you’re done and come on over to my office.”
“I’ll probably be done around two. Since it will feel like nighttime for me, I’d rather meet somewhere where I can have a heart-healthy Chicago steak and drink some fabulous red, if it’s okay with you. Are you willing to meet me at the mansion?” Victoria asked, wondering if she sounded insane trying to go to the best steak house in Chicago in the middle of a Friday afternoon.
“The old Victoria would have bristled at the notion of imbibing in the middle of the day, and she certainly wouldn’t have suggested a huge steak for lunch. Seems a bit of the lifestyle of the rich and famous has rubbed off on you.”
“I’m in no mood, Robert. I’m jet-lagged and sick to death of looking at soup with eyes, and fish with eyes, all staring at me. I’m starved for real food that doesn’t watch me when I’m eating it. Just meet me there.”
Before he could respond, she hung up.
CHAPTER
44
“I’M IN THE middle of a very busy afternoon, doctor. What can I do for you?” Billy said, making sure his irritation at the interruption came across loud and clear.
“I think it’s what I can do for you,” Dr. Natarajan responded.
Billy looked up from his desk, took his reading glasses off, and sat back in his chair. “You must know by now how much I abhor that type of psychobabble. What is it?”
“You know I’ve worked very hard to resolve quite a few complaints over the years. So far, we’ve been lucky that most of the women were ready for a career change or wanted a slower pace, and so acquiesced to our suggested exit strategy. But
Billy, your pursuit of the newest female associate at the firm is causing problems.”
Billy sighed. “Listen, we pay you well to do your job. Part of it is to handle anything that comes up and make it go away. I don’t interfere with how you do your job, and I don’t want to be bothered with the details. Why are you really here?”
“Sarah came to me.”
“Sarah?” Billy asked, genuinely not following the conversation.
Making every effort not to roll her eyes, she responded evenly, “Yes, Sarah. The newest associate assigned to your group. Big eyes, short hair, big tatas.”
“Ah, yes. Sarah,” Billy said with a satisfied look, quite pleased he had recalled one of the hundreds of associates that work at the firm. “Quite smart that one. Top of her class. She was one of the few exceptions we made about not hiring from Harvard.” Then, with a confused look on his face, he asked, “Why did she visit you?”
Dr. Natarajan used all her self-control not to respond with sarcasm. “Did you have a one-on-one meeting with her in your office the other day?”
Billy thought for a while. He had so many meetings and calls during his days it was hard to remember even a few hours ago.
For a moment, Dr. Natarajan thought, Perhaps I’ve been lied to. Maybe Sarah scammed me and nothing happened.
Then, Billy quickly leaned forward, almost toppling his crystal decanter and glass set. Speaking slowly and deliberately, he asked, “She went to you because of a little grab ass?”
It is quite remarkable, Dr. Natarajan thought. The level of entitlement and the extent of self-denial is unlike anything I’ve seen in all my years of clinical and research work. “She wanted,” she responded, turning to ensure the door was tightly closed, “me to help her file a claim against you and the firm to hold you accountable, and she wanted to keep her job at the firm to boot.”
“That’s utterly ridiculous. I barely touched her.” He paused. “And goddamn if I only touched her shoulder,” he said, looking absolutely bewildered.
Private Agendas: A Victoria Rodessa Legal Thriller Page 18
