When they made it out to the rental car, and Sal opened the passenger door for Gemma, she could see the distress all over his face. “Don’t beat yourself up, Sal,” she told him as she began to get in. “I mean it.”
But Sal couldn’t help it. Anguish blanketed him. “I have cost you so much,” he said.
“Cost me?” Gemma asked, looking at him. And then she got back out of the car. “You haven’t cost me anything, Sal, what are you talking about? You, the most generous man I’ve ever known, has given me nothing short of everything. And don’t you forget it.”
Sal looked at this woman he loved, and pulled her into his arms. But even with her love, the torment he felt for all the pain he had caused her throughout their marriage was still there. She could say whatever she wanted to say, but for a hard man like Sal, sugary words would never be enough to take that depth of truth away.
CHAPTER TWO
The front entrance door to the law office of Gemma Gabrini opened, and Ted Coggan could have heard a pin drop when he entered. He already knew the players. His people had scoped them out. The lady in red was Barbara Jiles, Gemma’s pleasingly plump paralegal. She was the brawn of the support staff, the one who would run interference if anybody even thought about disrespecting her boss. She had a wealth of information, a treasure trove, but she was as loyal as a birddog and could not be relied upon for any intel.
The skinny guy in one of those skinny slim suits was Curtis Kane, Gemma’s long-time secretary. He was loyal too, but unlike Jiles, Ted’s people concluded that Kane could be bought. Not with money, Kane wasn’t betraying his beloved boss for money. But if the right guy came along with good sex and the perfect bod, Kane could be valuable. Kane could tell them everything they needed to know while believing, because he was blinded by the man beside him, that it was only just a little pillow talk.
Both he and Jiles were standing at a file cabinet behind the reception desk, apparently searching for a file, when Ted walked in. Now they were staring at him, mouths agape, as if they were looking at a ghost or, as was actually the case, a tall, dark, extremely gorgeous superstar criminal defense attorney. The average Joe wouldn’t know Ted Coggan from any other lawyer. Barbara Jiles and Curtis Kane, who were steeped in the legal profession and knew all the superstar attorneys, weren’t average Joes.
“Good afternoon,” Ted said with a smile as he walked toward the reception desk.
“Good afternoon,” Barbara said, still staring at him.
“May we help you?” Curtis asked, still staring too.
“You may,” Ted said. “I’m here to see Mrs. Gabrini.”
“You’re Ted Coggan,” Curtis couldn’t help but say.
Ted smiled. “That’s right.”
“You’re the next Johnnie Cochran,” Curtis said. “You’re the chocolate F. Lee Bailey. You’re as big as Ted Wells!”
Curtis was overdoing it as usual, and his overkill broke Barbara out of her stargazing trance. She looked at Curtis. But Curtis was still in star-worship mode. “Mark Geragos ain’t got nothing on you on any given day,” he continued. “David Boies, please. He don’t have a thing on you either!”
“Alright, Curtis,” Barbara said, trying to smile but with an edge in her voice. “We get it.” She looked at Ted. “Do you have an appointment, Mr. Coggan?”
“Actually, I don’t. I didn’t think I would need one. But I can always go find another attorney to assist me.” He behaved as if he was about to turn and leave.
“No!” both Curtis and Barbara said in unison. Curtis even hurried from behind the desk. “This way, sir, I’m sure she can see you right now.”
Ted inwardly smiled. Thought so, he thought, as he followed Curtis. For the right price, this one could most definitely be bought.
Curtis escorted Ted down a hall that led to Gemma’s private, closed-door office. Curtis knocked one time and then opened the door. Gemma, who was seated behind her desk, her skirt suit coat off, was just about to take another bite of her big, messy fat burger, when the door opened.
“I hope you found that file,” she said without looking up. And when she did look up and saw who was standing at her door, she almost choked on the part of burger she already had in her mouth.
When she looked up, and Ted saw her beautiful dark face, he was equally taken aback. Damn, he thought as he looked at her. Her photographs didn’t do her justice at all! He didn’t usually go for dark-skinned women of any ethnicity, but he was feeling this chick. He could see himself feeling her, in fact, all the way to the bedroom.
“Mrs. Gabrini,” Curtis said, “I present to you Mr. Ted Coggan. And yes, it is THE Ted Coggan child!” Curtis regained his composure. “He is here to see you.”
Gemma swallowed hard and took a napkin to wipe her mouth. Whenever her adrenalin started racing and she was ready to get excited about something that she knew was silly in the long run, she slowed herself down. She took her time. She got serious. “Next time,” she said to Curtis, her voice calm and measured, “buzz me on my desk intercom and let me know I have a visitor.”
It was Curtis who swallowed hard this time. He knew Gemma could be the best boss in the world, fun-loving and all of that, until she got serious. “Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“That will be all.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Curtis said, as he and Ted shared a that was a read look. Curtis then closed the door and headed back toward the lobby and the reception desk. But he smiled. He and Ted shared a look, and not just an innocent one either. That brother was on the DL. Then he snapped his finger. Thought so, he said.
Ted, walking toward Gemma’s desk, said words even she knew he did not mean: “Would you prefer I wait until you finish your lunch?” he asked her.
“It’s okay,” Gemma said. “Have a seat.”
Ted fully expected Gemma to gather up her messy, awful-looking burger, throw it in the garbage where he felt it belonged, and give him her undivided attention. He was, after all, Ted Coggan: Gorgeous, brilliant, and a woman’s dream! But, to his surprise, Gemma continued to eat her messy, very tasty burger, despite his presence. He sat down.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Coggan?” Gemma was on her lunch break. She had to be in court later this afternoon. She wasn’t going to starve herself because some celebrity attorney showed up.
Ted smiled, deciding to see what she was made of by throwing proper etiquette in her face. “No apology for eating in front of a client?” he threw at her.
But Gemma threw it right back. “No apology for showing up without scheduling an appointment?”
Ted couldn’t help but smile. “Touché,” he said with a slight bow of his head, and then he opened his legs spread eagle across the floor, purposely revealing the bulge between his legs.
Gemma noticed the bulge. By the way he was lifting his hips to draw attention to it, she couldn’t help but notice it. But if he thought he was going to win her over with that little sensual maneuver he was kidding himself. Sal had a bulge too. And Sal’s was bigger. “How can I help you?” she asked again.
“You can help me,” Ted said, “by helping me.”
“On a case?”
“On a case.”
This did intrigue Gemma. She’d never worked with an attorney of Ted Coggan’s caliber. She’d worked with numerous attorneys who tried to use whatever gifts they had at their disposal to entice her into their beds, she was well accustomed to the games men played, but not one of those guys had ever been in Ted Coggan’s league. He had a legal mind and reputation that was second to none. “The case you’re talking about is a Vegas case?”
“It is. One of my longtime clients was here with her boyfriend on vacation and managed to get herself arrested for boyfriend’s murder.”
“Okay,” Gemma responded.
“I managed to get her out on bail, which is a good thing, but I noticed a problem in your town.”
Gemma finished chewing a bite of burger. “A problem?”
“Yes,” Ted said. “The judge ke
pt citing the fact that I was a nationally recognized attorney as if I was asking for special favors because of that fact. ‘I don’t care how many times you’ve been on CNN and MSNBC,’ he kept saying, even though I never mentioned being on either network. I almost thought he was going to deny my client bail because of who I was.”
Gemma nodded. “I feel you. Vegas is a big city on the Strip. It’s very small and cloistered everywhere else.”
“But thankfully bail was granted. But that experience spooked me, so to speak. And I decided to do something about it. That’s why I’m here. I think it would be better if you took over as lead attorney and I remain in the background, giving advice and consultation, but otherwise letting you be the face of her defense. Are you interested?”
Gemma was interested, but she needed to know more first. “Why me?” she asked, as she completed her burger and threw the remaining scraps, along with the saran wrap beneath it, into her wastebasket.
“I decided to go with you because you have a reputation in town as a fierce advocate, and a very ethical one.”
“I’ve also been on a losing streak lately. I’ve lost more cases than I have won. Why me?”
She was sharp too, Ted thought. Not to be bullshitted this one, he noted. “Because you’re a fighter,” he said. “You won’t give up on a case.” Then he smiled. “Most of your cases of late have been pro bono work. You did the work for free. It’s high time you were paid for your considerable services. My client will pay well I assure you.”
He was right. Gemma had not had a paying client in quite some time. She often handled some cases out of the public defender’s office whenever they had a backlog, and she was paid for that work, but it was almost always an underpayment. Having a client who was willing to pay top dollar for her services would be a welcomed change. She pulled out a legal pad. “Give me the background,” she said.
Ted smiled. “Does that mean you’re onboard?”
Something inside of Gemma told her not to get onboard. There was something about Ted Coggan that bothered her, and not in a good way, and it had nothing to do with his lame attempt at seduction. But she couldn’t deny his legal expertise, something she could use herself. She wanted to be a better lawyer, and she felt Ted could very well teach her a thing or two. “Yes,” she said. “I’m onboard. What’s your client’s name?”
“Her name is Rabina Chen,” Ted said, well satisfied now.
“C-H-E-N?”
“Correct.”
Gemma wrote as he spoke. “Asian?”
“Taiwanese, that’s correct.”
“What does she do for a living?”
“Off the record, she’s a madam,” Ted said, and Gemma looked up at him. “A Beverly Hills madam,” he added.
“She’s a madam,” Gemma asked, “as in she pimps out girls?”
“She gives high-class call girls an opportunity to spend time with high-class gentlemen at her estate in Beverly Hills. No-one knows anything at all about her profession. It is the best kept secret in Hollywood. It will remain so with you. Because on the record, she’s just a wealthy widow.”
“Was her deceased husband murdered too?”
Ted smiled. “Oh, you’re quick. No ma’am. He was not. He died of natural causes. You can look it up.”
“A rich widow,” Gemma wrote on her legal pad. Then she looked at Ted again. “Off the record,” she said, “did she ice the boyfriend?”
“Oh, yes. She’s already admitted to it.”
Gemma studied him. “Let me guess: self-defense?”
“Self-defense,” Ted said with a nod of his head. “It’s your job to set her free. She’s not just a client to me, she’s somebody I care deeply about. She must be victorious. I will have the legal skill to make that happen. I need you to use the respect you have in the Vegas legal community to make it happen. By any means necessary.”
Gemma leaned back. “When do I get to meet our client?”
“Not yet,” Ted said, rising to his feet. “I’ve got to work on sharpening her defense a little more before we reveal it even to you.”
Gemma stood up too. “Okay.”
“You’ll mainly work with me for now,” Ted said. “Once we sit down together, develop a firm strategy, then I’ll set up a meeting with Rabina where we can get her trial ready, which is where you will come in.”
“I’ll handle the trial,” Gemma said.
“Right,” Ted said. “With an assist or two from me, of course. But always behind the scenes. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize my client.”
Gemma nodded. She could appreciate his devotion. “Agreed,” she said.
“Maybe by next week I’ll have some meat on the bones, something firm to work with. Miss Chen, as you can imagine, is very upset still by this turn of events. Especially since they will not allow her to leave Vegas until the trial is complete. This is a very taxing time for her. But let’s meet next week and see what we have then.”
“Sounds good,” Gemma said. “What hotel are you staying in?”
“None right now. I have to get back to California today on a case. But I’ll stay at The PaLargio when I return. It’s where I always stay whenever I’m in town.”
Gemma smiled.
“What?” Ted asked, as if he didn’t already know.
“My husband’s cousin owns the PaLargio.”
“You’re serious? Really?”
“He owns it. Dominic Gabrini. But we call him Reno.”
“Reno? A Reno in Vegas.”
Gemma laughed. “I know.”
“This is a strange little town,” Ted said with a shake of his head. “And what about your husband? Is he in the hotel business too?”
Not that she knew of. Sal did not discuss his business ventures with her like that. “No,” she said.
“Is he around? Maybe I can meet him.”
Sal had been out of town for nearly two weeks now, but that wasn’t his business. “Maybe we’ll have dinner sometime. Before the case wraps up.”
“Excellent. I’ll have my office fax over the contract ASAP.”
“Sounds good.”
“Have a nice day, Mrs. Gabrini.” Ted turned to leave. But then he turned back. “Oh, and Mrs. Gabrini,” he said, “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you to remind your staff that my visit never occurred and our association is not for public consumption. Confidentiality of the highest order, in other words?”
Gemma nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “You don’t have to remind me.”
Alfalfa “Alfie” Farino dropped his cigarette on the New Jersey sidewalk, squashed it with his big brogan shoe, and then made his way across the busy highway to the Bed, Bath, and Beyond parking lot. Sal Gabrini, his boss, sat in the backseat of the SUV, while Crawley and Narb, Sal’s men, sat up front. Alfie opened the door and got into the backseat too. “He just went in,” he said to Sal.
“Which floor?”
“Fourth.”
“Was he alone?”
“He was alone.” Alfie handed Sal the key. “Mean-looking sonafabitch.”
“I got his mean alright,” Sal responded, taking the key.
“What do you want us to do, boss?” Narb, the driver, asked.
“After you drop us off you swing around back and wait. If you see any cops, or anybody looking like any cops, you keep going. We’ll find our way back.”
Narb cranked up, drove across the highway to the rundown Peekaboo Hotel, or what most people called the Hooker Hotel, and stopped at the curb. Sal and Alfie got out of the backseat and made their way through the revolving door into the lobby. It reeked of urine and cigarettes. Sal buttoned his double-breasted suit as Alfie led him across the lobby, through the heavy stairwell door, and up the stairs to the fourth floor.
They were there on what was called a volley mission. They were there to warn Marley Dim about the importance of established territory and what happened to men like him when they crossed those boundaries. Dim should already know better, he’d been in
the racket long enough, but his actions weren’t bearing that knowledge out. So in case he was as dumb as his name, Sal decided to personally pay him a visit and make himself clear.
They walked down the fourth floor corridor to room 419. Sal stood on the doorknob side of the door, and Alfie stood by the door hinge. Alfie then put his ear against the flimsy door, to listen for movement inside, but he heard nothing. He looked at Sal and nodded his head. They pulled out the guns they had in the small of their backs, Sal swiped the keycard, and then he pulled down the handle and entered slowly.
As soon as they entered, they could hear snoring coming from the bed that was at the far end of the room, facing the door. They could see Dim’s big lump of a body lying under the bed coverings.
But as they began to gingerly walk that way, Sal began to walk even slower. Something was off. It was obvious that the man in the bed was Dim’s big-ass body. His clothes on the floor beside the bed proved that. But how in hell, Sal wondered, could the big man make it up to his room, change his clothes, get in that bed and be fast asleep and snoring this quickly? His ass just got up here. And that was when Sal smelled a setup.
“Drop!” he yelled to Alfie, and as soon as he yelled it Marty Dim rose up in bed with a gun in each hand, and began firing. He hit Alfie multiple times, causing Alfie’s body to jerk backwards as if he was in some fucking Matrix movie; as if he was trying to get away but the bullets kept pulling him back. Then he fell back onto the floor with a hard hit, his eyes wide open. No doubt about it: he was dead.
Sal saw his man fall but he couldn’t deal with that loss now. He rolled and started firing back, determined to kill that motherfucker if it was the last kill he had. But a door opened in the bedroom and another man with another set of firepower started shooting too. Sal knew he was outmanned and outgunned and wasn’t going to survive any bullet-for-bullet gunfight.
He got up, dived toward Alfie’s lifeless body, and lifted Alfie in front of him. Only Alfie was dead weight and it felt to Sal as if he was lifting pure steel. But those days in the gym, and the muscles Sal had to back it up, paid off. He held onto Alfie and fired back at the two gunmen to keep them in retreat rather than in advance, as he managed to get his ass out of that hotel room.
Until You Come Back To Me, Book 5 Page 3
