Jessie Black Box Set 2

by Larry A Winters

  While Snyder had furnished the majority of his “humble headquarters” with cheap, industrial office furniture, he’d lavished money and attention on his own office, which was luxurious and beautiful. He walked behind a huge mahogany desk and dropped into a leather swivel chair. He gestured at the two visitor chairs and Jessie sat in one. These were leather as well, and very comfortable. As her body sank into the leather, she imagined that Snyder had wooed many a potential client in this chair, impressing and pampering them before handing their cases off to one of the minions in the cubicle farm to arrange a quick settlement. A feeling of doubt began to creep into her mind. Had coming here been a bad idea?

  “Scotch?” Snyder said.

  “Excuse me?” It was barely after noon.

  “Cigar?” Snyder tapped a humidor on the corner of his desk. “Cuban. The good stuff.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Do you mind if I have one?”

  “Yeah, kind of.”

  Snyder seemed to find this amusing. “Fine. But the Scotch is twenty-five-year single malt. I’m not letting you turn me down on that. It’s too great an insult.”

  He set two glasses on his desk and leaned sideways to open one of the desk drawers. He withdrew a bottle and filled both glasses with brown liquid. A powerful smell filled the air. Snyder pushed one of the glasses across the desk to her and raised his own in a toast. Jessie hesitated, then picked up her glass and clinked it with his.

  She sipped. Scotch was not her thing—she wasn’t much of a drinker, other than an occasional glass of wine—but she had to admit it went down pretty smoothly. “It’s good.”

  “Good? That’s a five-hundred dollar bottle of Balvenie.”

  “I’m flattered you would share it with me.”

  Snyder drained his glass in one long swallow, then refilled it. He sighed contentedly and leaned back in his chair with the fresh drink in his hand. “So why are you here?”

  “I have a potential referral for you.”

  He laughed, coughing up some of his drink. “No, seriously.”

  “I am serious.” She told him about Kelly’s death, then laid out the Rowlands’ case in as much detail as possible—which wasn’t much, since Judge Dax had not given her access to the pleadings. She also told him what the Rowlands had told her—Boffo’s attempt to settle the case, their anger when the Rowlands refused. She finished by recapping her meeting with Judge Dax.

  “Dax is a real bitch,” he said.

  Jessie waited for him to continue. Snyder slowly finished his drink. “And?” she said.

  “I appreciate you thinking of me for this case. Although I’m pretty sure I wasn’t your first choice.” He offered her a knowing smile. “I’m not interested.”

  “Why not?”

  “Tell me why everyone else turned you down.”

  Jessie sighed. “They all thought the chances of winning were too low.”

  Snyder let out a snort. “What a bunch of pussies.”

  His crude tone made her stiffen. “What’s your reason?”

  “You lost me when you told me the Rowlands refused to even consider a settlement offer. I like clients who settle. Quick and easy, money for everybody. The last thing I want to do is go to some musty old courtroom and drone on in front of a judge and a jury, and talk to a bunch of boring expert witnesses. How would my girlfriend put it? Ain’t nobody got time for dat shit.”

  “I don’t think I’ve met your girlfriend. She sounds interesting.”

  “She’s a peach. The bottom line is, from what I’m hearing, the Rowlands want a courtroom showdown. I don’t go in for that Perry Mason shit.”

  “So it’s not the thought of losing that bothers you. It’s the thought of working.”

  “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds….” He considered. “True.”

  “Sometimes if you go to trial, the award can be larger than a settlement. Isn’t that true? Think about it. You could take a settlement offer from a company like Boffo, or you could beat them on the merits and let a jury decide how much they should have to pay. The Rowlands retained Kelly on a contingency basis. I’m sure they would do the same with you. You would take a percentage of the damages verdict, which could be substantial, and make a difference in the world by putting companies like Boffo on notice that endangering children won’t be tolerated.”

  Snyder clapped. “This is why I share my good Scotch with you, Black. You’re endlessly entertaining. ”

  She ignored the backhanded compliment. “I’m sure all the hard work has already been done by Kelly. The legal research, the expert reports, the initial filings. All you need to do is pick up her work, stroll into the courtroom, and wow them with your good looks and charm.”

  Snyder’s smile widened. “I do have those in abundance.”

  “Beat a company like Boffo, and you’ll be buying plenty more bottles of overpriced Scotch.”

  “It’s not overpriced.”

  “Will you at least think about it?”

  “Why do you care so much?”

  “Because this is an important case.”

  “Why?”

  “Because a child—”

  “Why is it important to you?”

  “That is why.”

  Snyder rocked back in his chair and watched her with a knowing smirk. “I’ll need to see the file before I agree. Make sure all the annoying legal work is already done, like you say.”

  Jessie hesitated. She needed to call the Rowlands. “Do you have a spare conference room where I can make a call?”

  He put on a hurt expression. “Why not call from here? Are you trying to hide something from me?”

  Jessie took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Of course not, Noah. Here is fine.”

  13

  Jessie called the Rowlands while Noah Snyder poured himself a third glass of Scotch.

  “I think I found a lawyer to take your case.” She ignored Snyder’s arched eyebrow.

  Over the phone line, she heard Deanna say, “Great! Thank you so much….”

  Ken, who was also on the line, cut in. “What do you mean, ‘think’?”

  “He needs to see Kelly’s files before he can make a final decision.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t exactly a lie, either. “Will you please call Cheyenne and authorize her to show us your case file?”

  There was silence on the line. She heard a hum of hesitation from Ken as he presumably mulled over her request.

  “Oh for God’s sake, Ken, why not?” Deanna said.

  “Okay,” Ken said. “We’ll call her.”

  The call disconnected. Jessie waited.

  “So you haven’t seen Kelly Lee’s file,” Snyder observed.

  “Not yet, but the Rowlands are arranging for us to have access.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you have an ulterior motive for being here?”

  Jessie shrugged. “No idea. Maybe because you drink too much?”

  Even though his gaze had become watery, she could feel him scrutinizing her. “You genuinely care about the case,” he said. “I know you well enough to believe that. But there’s something else going on here, too.”

  “There’s nothing else, Noah.”

  “You want to see her files, and not just to prove to me that taking over the case will be a cake-walk. I know there’s more going on here than Jessica Black, good Samaritan, trying to play matchmaker between an orphaned client and Philadelphia’s least-respected attorney-at-law. You’re using me, but I’m not sure to what end.”

  “There’s no mystery. I really am a good Samaritan.”

  Snyder laughed as if she were an endless source of delight for him. It was getting harder to throttle her urge to smack the smug look off his face.

  “You know what I think, Jess? I think that you think your friend Kelly Lee was murdered. And I think your boss, the great and mighty Warren Williams—who hates me, by the way, so you might not want to mention my name to him—doesn’t want you sticking your nose into a
case the PPD wants to bury. But you’re doing it anyway, on your own time. Tell me if I’m hot or cold.”

  All she could do was glare at him.

  He grinned back at her. “I think you’re using me as cover. An opportunity to see Kelly Lee’s files without actually doing it yourself and getting fired. Come on, tell me I’m right. I never get tired of hearing it.”

  She chewed her lip. She didn’t trust Snyder and didn’t want to tell him anything he could later use against her. “I don’t know if Kelly’s death was really an accident. That’s a question for the police. I’m just trying to help the Rowlands.”

  Her phone vibrated, saving her from the discussion. Ken Rowland said, “Cheyenne will meet you at Kelly’s office. You know where that is?”

  “The Gardner Building, right?”

  “When will our lawyer get in touch with us? What’s his name?”

  “Soon.”

  Jessie disconnected. “Do you have a car here? Mine’s in a garage.”

  “Wait a second. You think I’m going with you? I’ve got appointments.” He reached for the bottle of Scotch. It was empty.

  “Maybe we should take a cab.”

  “Maybe you should take a cab. Bring me the file.”

  Jessie hesitated. “I don’t—”

  “Let me guess. You want me to go with you because Warren told you to stay out of this. Because he doesn’t want you looking into … what did you call it? Something that should be a question for the police.”

  She winced. “Will you come with me or not?”

  He sighed, as if the fifteen minute trip would be an immense undertaking. “I guess I can move my calendar around.”

  They caught a cab and took it across town. The Gardner Building, an impressively tall office tower, was one of several in this area of Philly, which was dominated by the even taller towers of One and Two Liberty Place. According to a plaque on the Gardner Building’s brick façade, the other tenants ranged from a small marketing agency to the Philly office of a global accounting firm.

  A food truck tempted her with the smells of grilled steak, cheese, onions, and peppers. She considered indulging. She was hungry. But she didn’t want to wolf down a cheesesteak in front of Snyder. Some activities could not be performed gracefully, and eating a cheesesteak on the sidewalk was one of them.

  Not that Snyder was paying her any attention. The silver-haired lawyer was looking at his reflection in the glass and chrome storefront of one of the neighboring buildings, fixing the knot of his tie.

  The squeal of air brakes distracted her as a city bus pulled to a stop and disgorged a stream of men and women. Most of them headed for the Gardner Building’s entrance.

  “You know, I looked at office space in this shithole,” Snyder said. “Total ripoff.”

  Snyder was calling this place a shithole? That was a joke, given his own HQ. “The good news is you can work on the case from your own lovely office,” she said.

  There was an impish glint in his eye. “I still haven’t agreed to work on the case at all.”

  “But you’re here.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “I’m still not exactly sure why.”

  “Because deep down inside, you’re a good lawyer dedicated to our noble profession?”

  “Definitely not that.”

  Jessie opened the door for him, since it didn’t look like he was going to do the honors. He strolled past her into the building’s lobby.

  “Unless we find some kind of magical documents that guarantee success on a massive scale, I think we’re both going to be leaving here disappointed.” His voice echoed in the large, marble-laden lobby. “However, I will be less disappointed than you, because there’s an excellent cigar store down the street, and this outing gives me a nice opportunity to check in and see their new stock.”

  She didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. They stepped into one of the elevators, along with two men in business suits. Jessie touched the number for Kelly Lee’s floor. The doors slid closed and the car ascended.

  They stood in awkward silence, Snyder tapping one Italian shoe against the floor of the elevator car and humming tunelessly. The elevator made a rattling, clanging sound as it ascended. Snyder arched an eyebrow. “Told you this place was a shithole. Maybe I’m wrong and we won’t leave disappointed. Maybe we won’t leave at all.”

  The two businessmen gave him wary looks.

  “We’ll be fine,” Jessie said.

  “Hey, maybe we should look into a class action lawsuit against the elevator company.”

  “One thing at a time.”

  “You still dating that cop?”

  “What?”

  “The homicide detective you banged in the alleyway?”

  The two businessmen made a valiant effort to pretend they weren’t listening. Jessie felt her face and neck flush. She gritted her teeth. “I don’t see how my personal life is any of your business.”

  “I’m just making conversation. I like you. I want to know more about you.”

  The elevator jerked to a stop. The doors opened and the two businessmen hurried out. She wished she could follow them. When the doors slid closed again and the elevator resumed its climb, she was alone with Snyder.

  “Why don’t you tell me about your love life?” she said.

  Snyder shrugged. “Sure. Sharing is caring, right? I’m single at the moment.”

  “What about your girlfriend? The one who says, Ain’t nobody got time for dat shit?”

  Snyder burst out laughing. “For the record, no matter what else happens, even if we plummet to our deaths in this elevator, everything was worth it just to hear you say that.”

  “Glad I could entertain you.”

  “But back to you. Bumping uglies in an unmarked police car in an alleyway? I’m very envious. I think that’s much more impressive than any of your courtroom victories.”

  “How about if we focus on the case?”

  “Sure thing. Why do you think she was murdered? Did her ghost appear to you, Hamlet-style?”

  “I never said I think she was murdered.”

  “That was a Shakespeare reference by the way. I’m very cultured. And you definitely think she was murdered. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  “Her assistant’s name is Cheyenne.” The elevator chimed and the doors opened with a hiss. “Try to be respectful, okay? The woman’s boss just died.”

  “When am I anything less?”

  14

  Snyder strolled out of the elevator and headed for Kelly Lee’s office suite. Jessie followed him, annoyed to have to jog in his wake. Snyder grasped the knob and they walked inside. There was a small waiting room for clients, with chairs, a couch, and a reception desk. A young woman with bright, blue hair and skintight jeans leaned against the desk. Snyder came up short. “Oh.”

  Jessie had to struggle not to roll her eyes. At least now, maybe there was something about the case that Snyder would find interesting.

  “You must be Cheyenne. I’m Jessie. This is Noah Snyder, the lawyer who’s going to take over the Rowland case.”

  “Might take over,” Snyder said.

  “Thanks for coming,” Cheyenne said. “Kelly kept her files in her office. Through that door.” She pointed. “I’ll be in here, gathering up my stuff. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “I guess you’re out of a job, huh?” Snyder said. His eyes seemed to sweep up and down her body at regular intervals. Apparently, he’d forgotten his assurances to be respectful, assuming he even knew what the word meant.

  “It looks that way,” Cheyenne said.

  “I might be able to give you some work.”

  Cheyenne shot Jessie a look, and Jessie tugged Snyder toward the office before he could creep her out even more. “Come on, Noah.”

  They passed through the doorway from the lobby to Kelly’s office. At first glance, it appeared to be a typical lawyer’s lair, with furniture straight out of a high-end office catalog, diplomas and ba
r certificates, on the walls, and a bookshelf. But on closer inspection, the bookshelf only held a handful of law books. Most of the shelves were dominated by books Jessie didn’t recognize. She scanned the spines, seeing titles about game theory, poker, betting, acting, selling, and negotiation.

  “I have this one,” Snyder said. He pulled a thick volume off the shelf. “It was written by a hacker who used social engineering to get access to all kinds of secure information. Great tips about how to make people trust and believe you.”

  “I usually do that by telling the truth.”

  Snyder shook his head. “Looks like Kelly Lee didn’t share your moral limitations.”

  “Kelly was moral. That’s why the Rowlands’ case was so important to her.”

  “Yeah, that and millions of dollars.”

  Jessie bit her lip. She was here to learn what had happened to Kelly, not to judge her.

  Snyder walked around the office and opened a few cabinets. Jessie glimpsed office supplies. “Not a bottle of liquor to be seen,” he said, opening another cabinet. “Not even one of those little travel-size ones.”

  “Haven’t you had enough today?”

  “Never. And look at this chair.” He came around her desk and set the swivel chair spinning. “Her poor back.”

  The chair looked normal enough to Jessie. She gripped the back to stop its movement. “We’re not here to drink or relax, Noah.” She sat in the chair and started opening drawers in the desk. “We’re here to review the Rowland file.”

  “You really think I’m going to hang out here with you and read?” Snyder’s expression was incredulous.

  “Why else did you come here with me?”

  “I’m asking myself the same question.”

  Jessie found nothing in the drawers. She got up and walked to a filing cabinet on one of the walls. She opened the top drawer. “Well, I’m sorry to bore you.”