by Carsen Taite
“We’re on a break. It’s been a rocky start.”
“I heard. In case you haven’t figured it out already, Ester knows everything that goes on, and if you supply her with donuts, she will tell all.”
Lloyd looked surprised at the nugget of intel. She didn’t blame him. She’d kept him and everyone else at arm’s length since she’d started, not interested in becoming too attached to the work or the people. She’d failed miserably at the last item on the list, and when Camille tossed her off the Wilson case, she realized how attached she’d become to the work.
“Donuts, got it.”
She hated to ask, but she had to know. “Any ideas on who’s leaking to the press?”
“Not a clue,” he said, not meeting her gaze. “The courtroom is packed with cops for opening statements, and I’ve seen a few of them huddled with the AUSAs, but it’s not like anyone’s raising their hands. You know, I have a friend whose father works at the paper. Maybe I should give him a—”
“Stop, right there. Don’t even finish what you’re about to say.”
“What?”
“You call the paper, or your friend talks to his father, and the next story won’t be about Wilson, it’ll be about how officials in the judge’s office were looking to undermine the objectivity of the free press. They’ll have a field day with it.”
“You know, I didn’t even think about that.”
West smiled to ease the harshness of her warning. She was pretty sure this was the closest Lloyd had come to admitting he might be wrong about something. “It’ll work itself out.”
“Well, it may not. Did Ester tell you about the TV in the jury room?”
“She mentioned it.” West had only heard a snippet of what she imagined was the bigger story, and she was dying to know more. “Were they seriously all just sitting there watching the news?”
“If they were, the judge’s decision would probably be pretty easy.” He told her what he’d just relayed to Camille. “Judge Avery wants research notes in thirty minutes.”
West shook her head. “Then you better stop talking to me and get online.” She turned back to her computer, but Lloyd’s only move was to shuffle in place. “You need something?”
“Help a guy out? She always likes your research memos better than mine. If you help me out, I’ll make sure she knows.”
West looked at the pile of files on her desk and the notes on the computer that she’d lost interest in typing up about five minutes in. If she helped Lloyd, at least she’d be doing something interesting, and with that realization came another. She didn’t need the spotlight. In fact, she might be able to use working in the shadows to her advantage.
“Okay, I’ll help you,” she said, “but on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“Your name and your name only on the notes. If anyone finds out I helped you, you’re cut off. Deal?”
Lloyd narrowed his eyes at her like he was trying to figure out her angle, but only for a second. “Deal.”
West shoved aside the files on her desk and motioned for him to take a seat and sign on to Westlaw. If she played her cards right, Camille would never know she’d done the work, and with a little professional distance, she might have a better shot at convincing Camille to do some very personal and decidedly unprofessional things.
Chapter Fifteen
Camille stretched her arms over her head and yawned. In thirty minutes they’d start the fourth day of trial for the week, and she was grabbing a few solitary moments in her office before the bickering began anew. Every day so far had started with either a fight about evidence or a come-to-Jesus meeting with counsel about the pervasive press leaks. Today was no different, and the newspaper on her desk boasted another story about the defendant’s past—part fact, part speculation—but full of references to the allegations from sexual assault victims who seemed eager to talk to reporters under the guise of anonymity.
She thumbed through the folder on her desk that contained another set of memos about various evidentiary topics that were likely to come up based on the witnesses the government planned to call to testify today. The heading of each one was the same. To: Judge Avery, From: Lloyd Garber, but if his name hadn’t been on them, she would’ve sworn West had written every word based on the nuanced detail of the analysis. Leave it to Lloyd to take all the credit.
West had done an excellent job of avoiding her since Monday morning when she’d yanked her from the case. With every objection raised by counsel, Camille regretted her decision, although she knew it was the right one. But the distraction she’d plotted to avoid had only gotten worse in West’s absence, and too many times during the preceding days, her thoughts had wandered to wondering what West was doing, where she was. Totally unacceptable. She needed every ounce of focus she could muster to handle the nonstop barrage of decisions during trial. Maybe she should find West now and try to shake this obsession, get it out of her system once and for all.
“Judge?”
Camille looked at her phone and registered Ester’s voice coming through the intercom. “Yes?”
“I know you said not to disturb you, but your mother is on line one. She said it’s urgent.”
“Put her through.” Camille waited anxiously for the line to ring. She hadn’t spoken with either of her parents since the pseudo-celebratory breakfast they’d shared the day she’d started this job. For her mother to call out of the blue, especially to contact her at work, meant something must be really wrong.
When the line rang, she grabbed it quickly. “Mom, is everything okay?”
“Well, it will be if I can get the hotel banquet manager to quit being such an ass. I mean how hard is it to set up a few cash bars and serve passed hors d’oeuvres? You’d think we were planning a state dinner at the White House.”
“What are you talking about?”
A sharp intake of breath. “You’ve forgotten, haven’t you? Your father said you’d forget, but I didn’t think you would. I know I started planning a long time ago, but it never occurred to me you would forget.”
Camille rubbed her head and tried to digest the nonsense. “Mom, did you need something? I have a lot going on right now.”
“You did forget. Camille, this event’s been on the books for months.”
Event. Shit. Camille reached for her cell and punched open the calendar app. There it was. Tomorrow night at the Adolphus, a mixer to benefit MADD. Last year, her mother had met the director at a networking event and had latched on to the organization like a lifeline, telling anyone who would listen how her dead son, Carl, had succumbed to the evils of substance abuse and lost his life because of it. To hear her talk, she was the one who’d nearly died, but had clawed her way back to the land of the living by railing against the perils of driving under the influence. When she’d agreed last year to sponsor and help plan a fundraising mixer for the organization, she’d insisted Camille attend in her capacity as state judge, but she hadn’t mentioned it after Camille lost her bench. Now, apparently with her reputation restored, Camille was back on the slate of dignitaries and couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do less. “I’m not sure I can make it. I don’t know if you’ve read the papers lately, but I’m in the middle of a pretty big trial.”
“I’m doing this for your brother. He would want you to be there. Everyone has something. I had to cut my trip short to make it back in time to help. All I’m asking is for you to be there. Well, and you should bring some people. I really want to pack the place.”
Of course you do, so you can look more important than you told them you were, as if that were possible. “I’ll come, but by myself.”
“Bring some people from your office. Don’t you have other lawyers, judges that work with you? Judge Stroud is coming. It’s just down the street.”
Camille stopped looking for excuses. If Stroud was going to be there, he would think it strange if she didn’t show up, especially since her mother was likely to mention her brother if she
made any kind of remarks. But she couldn’t imagine dragging any of the other judges along, and other lawyers were out of the question. Like she was supposed to pressure attorneys appearing before her to go to a benefit. Plenty of judges did that kind of thing, but she wasn’t going to be one of them.
But there were other lawyers that didn’t appear before her. Two were right here in this office, and one of them would probably jump at the chance to hobnob with the Dallas elite, while the other would likely rather do anything but be subjected to a night of networking. But maybe if she asked really nicely.
“Mom, I have to go. I’ll be there and I’ll bring people. See you then.” Camille clicked off the line, determined to act before she lost her nerve. She buzzed Ester. “Will you ask Lloyd and West to come in here please?”
“Only because you said please.”
When they appeared at the door, Camille invited them in. Lloyd handed her the mail, and she tossed it on her desk, more interested in West’s reaction to being called to her office. West met her eyes, but her expression was devoid of affect. What had she expected? Jubilant excitement? If she were West, she’d probably still be stewing over the fact she’d been pulled from one of the more interesting cases any clerk would work.
“Thanks for coming in. I’ll be quick.” Camille picked up the folder of memos on her desk. “First, I want to say this is some amazing work. Top-notch research and writing, and I’m lucky to have you on my team.” She looked at Lloyd as she spoke the words and watched him shuffle a bit at the praise.
“Thanks,” he said, shooting a glance at West. “Lots of interesting issues.”
“Yes, there are. And there will probably be more, but enough about work. I have to go to an event at the Adolphus tomorrow evening and I’d like you both to be my guests. We can walk down after we finish for the day. It’s a benefit for MADD, but don’t worry, you won’t be asked to donate. Just eat, mingle, and make the place look packed, so the deep pockets can show off their donations.” She shut up, wishing she hadn’t run on and shown her true feelings. “Anyway, I would appreciate you being there, but if you have other plans, I completely understand.”
“Sounds great. I’ll be there,” Lloyd said.
Camille didn’t wait to hear West’s answer. “Thanks. Lloyd, I’ll see you in the courtroom. West, can you stay for a minute so I can talk to you about another matter I’d like you to work on?”
West eyed Lloyd as he left. “Have a seat,” Camille said.
“I’m good.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Should I be?”
Camille pointed at the folder on her desk. “Lloyd does great work, doesn’t he?”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t know.”
“Oh really? I spot your fingerprints all over those memos. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you this week.”
West shrugged. “You seem to have done just fine without me.”
“Will you come Friday?”
“Who else is coming?”
Camille frowned. “I don’t know everyone on the guest list, but I’m sure there will be a lot of lawyers who know my parents.”
“If I don’t go, will it be just you and Lloyd?”
“Oh.” It suddenly hit Camille what West was asking. “A bunch of strangers, many of them lawyers who will want a minute or two alone with me because I’m a judge. I could use the buffer. Are you in?”
West held her gaze for a minute, her eyes piercing. “I guess. Should I wear a suit?”
If you want to look better than everyone in the room. Camille let her mind wander to the image of dressed up West. “If you want. I bet a lot of people will come directly from work, so there’s likely to be a lot of suits, but it’s not necessary. It’s definitely not required that you be there. I mean if you really don’t want to, I understand.” She shut up to keep from rambling more.
“I’ll be your buffer. It’s probably as challenging a job as what you’ve had me doing.”
Camille heard the sarcasm, but chose to ignore it. What would she say, anyway? Secretly, she was glad to know West was doing most of the work.
“Do you need anything else?” West was edging toward the door.
“Hang on just a second.” Camille pulled the inner office envelope toward her, hoping it contained the pleadings she’d requested from the clerk’s office. “I was reviewing the Santiago file, and there were a few old pleadings not scanned into PACER yet. I bet they’re in here.” She twisted the string loose and reached into the envelope. “I’d like you to…” Her voice trailed off as she pulled the contents free and recognized the same block letters she’d seen before.
“What is it?” West asked, her hand on the door.
“Nothing.” Camille forced her gaze from the desk to the door. “Nothing. I’ll talk to you about it later.”
West strode back toward her. “You’re pale.” She reached for the envelope. “And your hands are shaking.” Camille put up a hand to stop her, but West was too fast. She yanked the paper up and read the note out loud.
IT’S NOT TOO LATE TO QUIT. DO IT NOW OR EVERYTHING WILL BE REVEALED. FINAL WARNING.
“Who sent this?”
Camille summoned the strength to answer. “I don’t know.”
“But it’s not the first one you’ve received, is it? What does it mean—‘all will be revealed’?”
“It’s nothing, West. Judges get crazy things in the mail all the time. I received hate mail once a week from a guy I sent to the pen for life. He’s probably still writing to me, completely unaware that I no longer work for Collin County.”
“Camille,” West said, her voice low and quiet, “How many of these letters have you gotten?”
West was standing close. Close enough that Camille could smell her spicy cologne. Close enough to touch. In that moment Camille wanted nothing more than to confide in West about the other notes, about how the prospect of attending the benefit for her brother stressed her out, about how she missed their conversations about the law, about everything. But instead she slipped the note back into the envelope. “It’s nothing.”
Before West could respond, Camille was on the move, envelope in hand. She pulled her robe from the hook by the door, and turned back before she left her office. “West?”
“Yes?” West answered, her expression hopeful.
“Wear the suit. It’s the perfect look.”
* * *
West lingered in Camille’s office after she left, replaying Camille’s words in her head. The perfect look for what? Camille hadn’t spoken to her in days and now she’d invited her to a party? She tried not to read too much into it, but the exchange left her feeling aroused and cautiously optimistic. After a few minutes of driving herself crazy with speculation, she headed for Ester’s desk.
“I’m busy,” Ester said, without looking up. “And I can tell you don’t have any donuts, so I have no use for you this morning.”
West laughed. “You’d think I’d be paid ahead by now.”
“Takes a lot of donuts to sway me.” Ester pushed back from her desk and faced her. “Tell me what you need.”
“The judge received an interoffice envelope with her mail this morning. Do you know where it came from?”
She placed a finger to her temple and closed her eyes. “No, not a clue. Judge had a bunch of mail this morning. I didn’t have a chance to go through it before your sidekick swiped it off my desk. Guess he wanted to impress the judge with another of his many skills.”
Ester’s voice dripped sarcasm, and West wanted to hug her for her keen assessment of Lloyd, but she wanted information more. “Do you know how long the mail was on your desk before he got it?”
“And here I thought you were a lawyer, but it turns out you’re a detective instead.”
Okay, so it wasn’t as much fun when the sarcasm was directed at her. “Come on, Ester, it’s important.”
Ester stared hard, like she was trying to decide if this was serious, but she finally s
aid, “Ben from the mailroom brought it first thing and handed it directly to me. I set it on my desk and went to get a cup of coffee. Wasn’t gone more than five minutes, and when I came back, you two were in there with the judge. When Lloyd came out, he told me he’d taken the mail in to her.” She raised her hands in the air. “That’s all I know. Now, may I get back to work?”
“Thanks, Ester.” West delivered the words on the fly, while she jogged back to her office. When she crossed the doorway, she was surprised to see Lloyd sitting in her chair, typing on her computer keyboard. “Hey, dude, any particular reason you can’t use your own space?” She kept her voice even, but she was pissed. Did he have to horn in on everything?
He closed the browser and stood up. “Sorry. I forgot my Westlaw password, and since you’ve been signing on as me, I figured you might have it saved in your system.”
Something about his tone didn’t ring true. “You need me to help with something?”
“No, it’s all good. I got it. Thanks for the offer.” He edged toward the door as he rambled, his face growing redder. She watched his back until he was out of sight, and then she slid into her chair and pulled up her browser to check the history. There was a sign-in on Westlaw about ten minutes prior that matched his story, but there were also visits to the website for the local paper and TV news outlets, and Yahoo. None of the activity was hers, and it had all happened while she was with Camille. Consulting the news was no big deal. Lloyd had probably been doing that every day to see what they were reporting so he could be ready for any objections raised in trial. Still, West felt there was something off, like someone had been sleeping in her bed when she wasn’t there. And Lloyd had brought the mail into Camille’s office. The mail that contained the threatening note.
