[Kate Lange 01.0] Damaged

by Pamela Callow

  “I see,” she murmured. But she couldn’t erase the memory of what CJD had done to Craig Peters in his final moments.

  Just don’t think about it. I have a much better chance of being hit by a bus.

  With that reassuring thought, she took a deep breath and knocked on Randall’s door.

  “Come in.”

  She walked into his office. Its clean lines and sharp angles calmed her mind. She had been a lover of Victorian architecture for years, but this modern aesthetic seemed so confident of its own inherent strength, she felt herself drawn to it.

  Randall stood and walked around his desk. “Kate!” He ushered her into his office, solicitously holding her elbow. His grip was sure, strong. She swallowed. Despite the tempering of her resolve, his proximity made her pulse hammer.

  She gently pulled her arm away and lowered herself into one of his ingeniously designed chairs.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She didn’t want to get into the details. No more personal stuff. This was her boss. She gave a brisk smile. “Better. Thank you.”

  He sat behind his desk and studied her. “You took a beating.” His gaze was frank, not pitying.

  It pierced her reserve. Damn him. She looked away. “Yes.”

  “Kate…” There was something in his voice that made her gaze swing back to him. “I was very concerned about you.”

  The memory flooded her. So. It hadn’t been her imagination.

  It had been dim in her hospital room. She’d been dozing, the drugs from the surgery dulling her pain. Then she’d heard footsteps. Quiet. Too quiet. She stiffened. Was it John? A whimper of fear escaped her. Her fingers scrambled for the help button.

  “Kate. It’s okay,” the voice had murmured. It was a familiar voice. It was unexpectedly tender, soft. A hand hesitated over her brow, then lowered. It smoothed the hair off her forehead.

  Then he was gone.

  She’d thought it had been a dream. Had assumed the arrangement of roses and lilies had been delivered by a florist during her surgery. Not by him. “Thank you for the flowers. They were beautiful.”

  She had told herself it was an act of compassion. Or an act of repentance.

  But when he said, “You are welcome,” she knew.

  It had been something else.

  She looked away, her heart pounding. She forced her voice to sound cool, collected. “I understand you were the one who tipped Ethan off.”

  He nodded.

  She didn’t want to imagine that phone call. It must have cost Randall a lot to call Ethan for help. “Thank you.”

  He ran his hands through his hair. “I feel somewhat responsible for putting you in that situation.”

  She had thought about that in the hospital. Randall hadn’t been part of the TransTissue conspiracy. That was a relief. But Randall had wanted to use her against John to build his case. Even though it was his responsibility as managing partner to protect the firm’s interests, there had been a personal element to involving her. It had been one final power play, a master stroke to turn John Lyons’ protégée against him. And it hurt that he would still try to do that.

  “I didn’t know you’d run into him in the parking garage, Kate.” His eyes sought hers. “I swear it.”

  “But you insisted I come in and meet with you.”

  “I had received information that Lyons had a financial interest in BioMediSol. I knew that he had settled TransTissue’s claim. I wanted to find out what you knew.” He leaned forward. “But when I called you, I thought he’d bailed out on me. I would never have insisted you come in if I’d known he was still in the building.”

  She studied him. He hadn’t meant to put her in danger.

  He was asking for forgiveness. And she wanted to tell him she forgave him. But to do so would acknowledge an intimacy that made it all the more imperative to retreat.

  Instead, she shrugged. Then smothered a wince when pain shot down her arm. “I knew more than John wanted me to. I was a threat.”

  To her relief, he followed her retreat. “How did you find out about the criminal activity at BioMediSol? Didn’t John take you off the case before the settlement?”

  “Yes.” She leaned back in her chair. “But I’d done some research and had heard about U.S. cases where there was fraudulent screening. Then I learned that the funeral home was trying to convince families to donate bodies. I realized something was up.” She made no mention of her break-in at the funeral home. When the police came for her statement in the hospital, she told them about the BioMediSol records she stole. She also told them about the Department of Health letter from Claudine Wright. Then she waited for the charges to be laid.

  Instead, she received a phone call from Detective Ferguson, informing her that the police had decided they did not have enough evidence to proceed with charges—which she knew was untrue—and with a strict caution to not ever again attempt to investigate potential criminal activities. The message was clear: they were covering her butt this one time. She wondered if it had been Ethan who’d pulled the strings for her.

  Randall’s gaze had not left her face. She wished she knew what he was thinking. Despite his apology for the danger he’d put her in, he was still her boss. She’d breached a few ethics and broken a few laws to uncover the fraud.

  But he’d be a fool to fire her when LMB was desperately spinning its image to mitigate the scandal from John Lyons’ criminal activities and suicide.

  And he was no fool.

  She waited.

  He cleared his throat. “Kate, you have integrity, a need to find the truth that sets an example for our firm.” Admiration warmed his eyes. “I know you’ve been wanting to move to the litigation group.”

  “That’s what I was hired to do.” She couldn’t resist the arch look she gave him.

  “When you are able to take on some files, let’s have another chat.” He stood. He held her eyes with his own. And despite her resolve, a flush heated her chest.

  He said softly, “Welcome back.”

  She braced herself for what she knew she would see in his gaze. Be strong.

  But his eyes were questioning. Not demanding. And in those brilliant depths she found something entirely unexpected: tenderness.

  What was even more unexpected was her reaction.

  She liked it.

  She eased herself out of the chair and walked to the door. She turned. “Thank you. It’s good to be back.”

  She felt his eyes on her as she limped into the corridor.

  So much for resisting him.

  If she wanted to continue at LMB—and she most certainly did, after Randall’s promise to move her into the litigation group—she had to learn to deal with Mr. Barrett. Right now, she had the upper hand. She knew it, he knew it. She’d been through a hell most people did not physically survive. If they did, they emerged with trauma that ruined their lives.

  But not her. Hell had tempered her confidence, strengthened her resolve and eradicated her fear. Her wounds—both old and new—were now healing. She was ready to plunder everything that her life promised.

  She would no longer hide from things that threatened her. That included Randall Barrett.

  She was ready to be all that she’d wanted to be.

  She luxuriated in the knowledge that her career was finally going in the direction she wanted it to go. Finally she’d get the files she yearned for. Triumph bubbled inside her. She knew it was short-lived champagne fizz. She’d had time to do some thinking over the past week. Recuperating at home had shown her what she’d been missing: the simple companionship of her dog, the undemanding friendship of Enid and Muriel, the pleasure of sharing a meal with someone. She wanted more challenging work but not at the expense of the rest of her life. Hopefully, Randall would respect that.

  If not, her options were looking good. She’d generated a lot of litigation business for firms across Canada. Class-action suits against TransTissue were springing up all over the place. TransTissue was screw
ed; law firm profits were on the rise. The law of supply and demand was alive and well.

  * * *

  She returned home at 5:30 p.m. Alaska greeted her with his usual delight. “Come on, boy.” She grabbed an apple and they sat together on the steps of her back porch. The sun was warm on her neck. Alaska lifted his nose to the breeze. The earth was pungent, full of promise. Tiny buds in vibrant green poked through the soil.

  The little buds were brave and bold, sure of their place in the dark depths of her garden. She would get some fertilizer. She would weed the garden. She would invite Enid and Muriel to tea and let Muriel crumble the earth between her fingers.

  Spring always came late in Halifax. Now that it was here, she would soak up the sun.

  Author’s Note

  DAMAGED was inspired by a tissue brokering case that originated in the U.S. but had ramifications in Canada. It was so diabolical that it seemed like the perfect case to launch the Kate Lange series.

  If you have enjoyed DAMAGED, please consider leaving a review. Just a few words and a rating will help more readers find my books!

  With my thanks,

  ~ Pam

  Acknowledgments

  I wholeheartedly thank those who took time from their busy schedules to share their expertise with me:

  Constable Jeff Carr, Media Relations, Detective Curtis Pyke, Forensic Identification Technician, and Sergeant Jeff Clarke, Major Crime Unit, all of the Halifax Regional Police Department, who patiently took me through police procedures;

  Dr. Martin Bullock, M.D., FRCP, who helped me understand the forensic pathology process;

  Ms. Cindy Burchell, who broke down the blood testing process for me; and

  Ms. Judith Ferguson, LL.B., who graciously gave me an impromptu briefing on child protection while we waited for our kids’ soccer practice to end.

  Any mistakes in this book are mine alone and I apologize in advance to those who generously shared their expertise.

  Writing is an act of faith. I am fortunate to have had so many friends support me:

  The talented author Kelly Boyce, who originally critiqued this book, and shares the same passion as I;

  Authors Julianne MacLean, Cathryn Fox and Stella MacLean, who I’m lucky enough to have as mentors and friends;

  My RWAC chapter: the road would have been longer—and lonelier—without them;

  My father and my sister, who have always been there for me;

  My brother (and best friend) who always makes me laugh; and

  My fellow traveler, best friend and creative sounding board, Linda Brooks.

  Last, but foremost in my heart, I want to thank Dan, Julia, Katrina and Peaches. They are the ones that live with me every day, yet love me, anyway.

  Pamela Callow, JD, MPA, is the bestselling author of the Kate Lange legal thriller series. With over a quarter of a million copies sold, Pamela Callow’s critically-acclaimed series has been compared to works by Robin Cook, Tess Gerritsen and John Grisham. DAMAGED was a “Need to Read Pick” with Top Ten Bestseller placement everywhere books were sold across North America. The series has been translated and published in eight countries.

  A member of the Nova Scotia bar, Pamela Callow holds a Master’s degree in Public Administration. Prior to making writing a career, she worked as a Strategic Services manager with an international consulting firm.

  She is currently working on the next release of the Kate Lange thriller series. She would love to travel to all the places where her books are published, but in the meantime, she drinks coffee, spoils her pug, goes for walks and occasionally burns supper. She recently joined a barbershop chorus.

  Visit www.pamelacallow.com for more information about her series, behind the scenes peeks, photos, events, newsletter and more!

  If you enjoyed DAMAGED, see what’s in store for Kate Lange in

  INDEFENSIBLE

  the second book of the series

  When Elise Vanderzell plummets from her bedroom balcony one gorgeous summer night, her children awaken to a nightmare.

  Their mother is dead.

  Their father is charged with her murder.

  Lawyer Kate Lange knows all about nightmares. She’s survived the darkest period of her troubled life and the wounds are still raw. Now she’s been handed a case that seems utterly unwinnable: defending her boss, high-profile lawyer Randall Barrett.

  A prosecutor’s dream suspect, Randall is a man who was cuckolded by his ex-wife. A man who could not control his temper. A man who had argued bitterly with the victim the previous day in full view of his children.

  With limited criminal law experience, Kate finds herself enmeshed in a family fractured by doubt. Randall’s teenage son is intent on killing him. His daughter wants only to feel safe again. And the entire legal community would like nothing better than to see Randall receive a public comeuppance.

  As Kate races to stay a step ahead of the prosecution, a silent predator is waiting for the perfect time to deal the final blow.

  “Indefensible is a superbly plotted and suspenseful thriller…”

  — Omnimystery

  ~ turn the page for an excerpt of INDEFENSIBLE ~

  Enjoy an excerpt of

  INDEFENSIBLE

  Chapter 1

  Friday, 5:05 p.m.

  The siren song of the end-of-workday bustle on Halifax’s historic waterfront did not reach law firm McGrath Barrett. Ensconced in the top two floors of one of the city’s landmark office towers, McGrath Barrett cocooned its staff from the hubbub of the everyday world with plush carpeting, heavily paneled cubicles and glassed-in offices. Perfect working conditions for honing concentration and maximizing billable hours.

  In theory.

  Late afternoon summer sunshine beat through Kate Lange’s office window and landed squarely on her back. Even with air-conditioning, the relentless heat dampened her skin. She slid her office chair sideways. Didn’t matter. The sun just poured through the glass lining the far wall, issuing the one siren song that McGrath Barrett could not deflect. It urged her to abandon the personal injuries tome on her desk with its impossibly small print.

  She rubbed her temple. Just two more cases to review. Get it over with, Kate. Just like you got through that brutal discovery today. It had finished an hour ago. Her head still throbbed from it, but she needed to check a couple of cases before she could end her workweek in good conscience.

  And then—a run in the park followed by a night on the town. Hunching over the book, she scowled at the text, mouthing the words. Anything to make them penetrate the late-day haze surrounding her brain.

  Ten minutes later, she flipped closed the research book and pushed her chair away from the desk.

  Done. It was Friday. It was past 5:00 p.m. It was sunny. As if that weren’t enough to please the residents of Halifax, it was the start of the Natal Day long weekend, Halifax’s civic holiday. Three days off. In the middle of summer. She was crazy to be sitting at her desk. And from the hush outside her office, it sounded suspiciously as if she was the only lawyer still lingering.

  The phone rang while she was shoving files into her briefcase. She stifled a groan. It had better not be a client. With a quick glance at the pure blue sky beyond her window, she snatched the phone off the cradle.

  “Hey there.”

  Kate’s shoulders relaxed at the sound of Natalie Pitts’ throaty voice. “Hi, Nat.” She balanced the phone in the crook of her neck and began stacking the reports she would take home with her.

  “What’re you up to tonight?” Natalie Pitts had been Kate’s best friend and roomie during her university years. She had moved away after she finished her degree in journalism, only returning in May with high ambitions and a broken heart.

  Kate eyed the pile of case reports she’d assembled. It was disappointingly thick. That’s what happens when you don’t get your work done, Kate. Well, at least she didn’t have to lug home that massive personal injuries book. “I’m heading down to the Economy Shoe Shop later tonigh
t with the gang from work—you know, Joanne and some of the other associates.” After Kate saved McGrath Barrett’s ass in May, she had suddenly been on everyone’s speed dial. And, Kate had to admit, they were a decent bunch of people, despite the professional elbowing. All of the junior associates were younger than she, still on the singles scene. Kate and Joanne were the only associates in their thirties who were partnerless. The ones with kids hurried home on Friday nights, glad to put the workweek behind them. “Do you want to come?”

  “Can’t tonight. I’ve got to work tomorrow.” Nat had miraculously landed a job as a reporter for the Halifax Post, no mean feat in the internet-plagued newspaper business. “Do you want to go out for supper before you meet your friends?”

  Kate hadn’t seen Nat since last week. But Alaska, her Siberian husky, had been waiting all day. Even though her dog walker, Finn Scott, took him for walks, she still felt guilty if she didn’t come home right after work. “Do you want to come over for a bite, instead? My kitchen is under drop sheets, but we can eat on the deck.”

  “Sure. You can give me the tour. I’ll bring takeout. See you in an hour.”

  “Can you make it for seven? I’ve got some errands to do and I’d love to go for a run.” Kate smiled. “I was able to do the full route on Wednesday.”

  “Hallelujah! So the leg didn’t bother you too much?” Kate’s quadriceps had received a nasty stab wound from a scalpel in May—one of several injuries she’d sustained in her battle to the death with the Body Butcher, the city’s first serial killer.