Will’s face went white and two scarlet spots bloomed on his cheeks. He opened and closed his mouth twice before forming words. “I … didn’t know you felt that way,” he finally sputtered.
“Neither did I. Not until you raised the issue of partnership for Naya.” She lowered her eyes to the table.
“Sasha, we weren’t closing ranks against you. We were trying to protect the firm—our firm.”
“I know,” she said in a small voice. “But your intent doesn’t matter. What you did left me standing on the outside. Alone.”
He sighed heavily. “I don’t know how to make you change your mind.”
“You can’t.”
“What am I going to tell Naya?”
“I’ll tell her,” Sasha said dully. “I owe her that much.”
“No. I’ll do it. After all, she and I both agreed you should take a leave of absence. It was a joint decision.”
She wasn’t going to argue with him. “Fine. What else is on the agenda?”
She wanted to get this meeting over with so she could escape the office. Maybe she’d head over to Daniel’s studio and punch the heavy bag for an hour. Or two.
Will swallowed audibly and picked up his typed agenda. Before he could move on to the next item, Caroline poked her head through the door.
“Sorry to interrupt, but Bodhi King’s in the reception lobby asking for both of you.”
Bodhi was lounging against the counter in front of the receptionist’s workstation. He was chatting with Lucy, who was leaning forward, completely engrossed in whatever he was telling her. As Caroline, Sasha, and Will approached, he looked up and beamed at them.
Whenever she saw Bodhi, Sasha was reminded of how comfortable and content the Buddhist forensic pathologist seemed to be in his own skin. He was at peace with himself and everything around him—or so it appeared.
They reached the reception area just as he finished up his story, “—definitely should check out Mount Haleakalā on Maui. The sunrise from the top of the volcano is breathtaking.”
Lucy, who was planning her wedding and intended to honeymoon in Hawaii, was taking copious notes.
Sasha stepped forward, her arms outstretched. “Bodhi, what are you doing here?”
He enveloped her in a hug that seemed to wrap around her soul. After a moment, he pulled back and grinned at her. “I heard Will was looking for me. Here I am.” He flung his arms wide.
“So you are. In the flesh,” Will chuckled. “It’s always great to see you, but a telephone call or return email would’ve sufficed. “
The two men shook hands. Will gave Bodhi a fatherly pat on the back.
“I’d been planning to travel back this way soon, anyway,” Bodhi explained. “So when I learned that you were trying to get in touch with me, I took it as a sign that this would be a good time to come to town.”
“Why don’t we go into the conference room where it’s more comfortable? We can get you a glass of water or a cup of tea and talk,” Sasha suggested.
“Sounds good to me,” Bodhi said amenably. He scooped up his rucksack from the floor and slung it over his shoulders. “Lead the way.”
Somehow Caroline had magically gotten to the conference room before them. She’d already cleared the remnants of Sasha’s and Will’s ill-fated breakfast from the table. By the time they’d settled around the table and were making small talk about Bodhi’s stay at the monastery in Hawaii, she’d returned bearing a tray that held a selection of teas, cups, hot water, and lemon and honey.
“You’re the best,” Sasha told her as she placed the tray in the center of the table.
Caroline smiled at the praise and focused on their guest. “Would you rather have a glass of water, Dr. King?”
“No, this is fantastic. Thank you.”
“Yes, Caroline, this is great,” Will assured her.
She left, pulling the door silently shut behind her. Sasha watched as Bodhi and Will fixed themselves cups of tea. She personally didn’t see the point of a hot drink that wasn’t coffee, but to each his own.
“So, how did you end up at a Japanese monastery in Honolulu?” she asked, genuinely curious. The last time she’d seen Bodhi he was volunteering at a sustainable banana plantation in Costa Rica.
He squeezed some lemon into his tea as he answered. “We got some really good processes in place at the farm, so after the last harvest, they really didn’t need my help any longer. I decided to move on to a place where I could to do a silent retreat. The form of Zen Buddhism that the monks practice in Honolulu is one I’m not particularly comfortable with, so I decided to apply for a spot there.”
Will cocked his head. “Why wouldn’t you go to a monastery where the practice was more to your liking?”
Bodhi smiled. “I think it’s important for one to get comfortable with discomfort.”
Sasha and Will exchange mildly puzzled looks. After a moment, he replied, “Well, it seems you’ve perfected the art of the Zen koan, if nothing else.”
Bodhi laughed politely. Then he said, “So, what did you want to talk to me about? I know it has to do with Wally’s hearing before the parole board. But, specifically?”
“I wanted to offer my services to help you craft your victim impact statement. I’m working with Sasha on hers, and I thought I might as well make myself available to you, too—in case you had any questions or wanted my input.”
Bodhi sipped his tea and considered Will’s words.
After a silence that seemed to drag on for a full minute, Sasha asked, “You are planning to submit a statement, aren’t you? It’s within your rights to do so, seeing as how Wally Stewart’s hypothetical release would impact you.”
“Would it?” he asked gently.
She narrowed her eyes and reminded him, “The man tried to kill you.”
“But he didn’t. And I think we both know he’s unlikely to try to kill either of us—or anyone else—if he were released from prison.”
She threw Will a look that was a blatant appeal for help. Reasoning with a Buddhist appeared to require even more tortured logic than did reasoning with toddler twins. She was out of her league here.
Will steepled his fingers under his chin and eyed Bodhi for a moment. “So, are you saying you don’t want to submit a statement? It’s not required, you know.”
“Actually, what I want to do is to submit a statement in support of Wally. Can I do that?”
“Wait. You’re not serious.” Sasha managed not to scream the words, but just barely.
“I’m completely serious. I don’t see any point in Wally’s continued incarceration. The man has repented. He’s repudiated his old ways,” he told her. “I don’t expect you to agree with me.”
“Good. Because I don’t.” She made her hands into tight fists and dug her fingernails into her palms.
“Bodhi, he’s complicit in the deaths of those five young women, as well. If he hadn’t stolen your files and killed the software program, you’d have made the connection between that energy drink and myocarditis sooner. You might have saved some of their lives,” Will ventured.
“I might have,” Bodhi agreed in a soft voice. “But I didn’t. And Wally being imprisoned can’t change that.”
“But don’t you think he should pay for what he’s done?” Sasha gave up the pretense of modulating her voice.
“Don’t you think he has?” Bodhi countered. “Don’t you think you have?”
She pursed her lips and considered her response. The question felt like a trap, but she asked it anyway. “What?”
“If you haven’t forgiven him, you’re still voluntarily suffering at his hands.”
“I’m not suffering.”
“I think you are. If you forgive him, you’ll free yourself from him.”
The room was getting stuffy. She slipped her cardigan off her shoulders and wished she’d asked for a glass of water. Her heart was beating too fast as she searched her mind for a response.
“Bodhi …” Will bega
n.
He paused and tugged at his ear for a moment, trying to decide how best to frame his argument. Bodhi watched him impassively and sipped his tea.
Will huffed out a breath. “To answer your question, you’re within your rights to submit a statement on Stewart’s behalf. But perhaps you could choose the middle path.”
Sasha narrowed her eyes. “What middle path?”
Will gave her a pained looked. “I had a voicemail from Saul David this morning. He’s not planning to give the parole board a statement of any kind.”
“Why on earth not?” she demanded.
Bodhi answered. “Mona forgave him. He’s trying to find it in his heart to do the same for Wally. He doesn’t want revenge.”
She could explain she wasn’t looking for retribution either; she was simply trying to keep a dangerous man behind bars. But she suspected that would only lead to more probing questions about her mental state.
It didn’t matter.
She’d just have to spend the afternoon honing her own statement. She was an advocate, after all. She could convince the parole board not to release Stewart—with or without Bodhi and Saul.
She managed a small smile. “Look, I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree. Do you need somewhere to stay while you’re in town?”
He gave her a smile in return, but his was heartfelt. “That’s kind of you, but I’m actually staying with my old next door neighbor. She’s like my adoptive grandmother—if my grandmother had a concealed carry permit and a motorcycle. In fact, I need to get going. I’m meeting her at her bingo brunch.”
She’d always suspected he led a singularly unusual life, and the more she spoke to him, the truer it seemed.
“Okay, well, please try to stop by while you’re here. Connelly would love to see you.”
“I will,” he promised. “I want to see him, too—and meet your kiddos. I’ll think hard about not giving the parole board any statement, but I simply can’t ask them to keep a remorseful man locked up.”
He drank the last of his tea, nodded to her and Will, then hoisted his pack over his shoulder and ambled out of the conference room.
She sat there, mildly dazed, for a moment then turned to Will. “I’m going to revamp my statement. Are you going to be around to read it?”
“Of course. My afternoon is clear.”
Before she could thank him, Naya poked her head into the room. “You’re never, not in a million years, going to guess who’s here.”
5
Sasha took five deep breaths then shook out her hands before calling her husband.
He answered on the first ring. “Hey.”
She’d learned the hard way the best way to do this was to just yank the Band-Aid off, fast and hard, rather than peeling it away bit by bit. It was going to sting either way; she might as well get it over with.
“We can’t go to Deep Creek this weekend.”
Silence.
“Connelly?”
More silence. Then, “I heard you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What happened?”
“Mackenzie Lane turned up at the office unannounced.”
“The woman who had the affair with Saul David? The one who sucker punched you at the press conference?”
His confusion and disbelief were evident. She knew the feeling.
“That’s the one.”
“What does she want?”
“She’s searched her conscience and decided to provide a bit more detail about her dealings with Wally Stewart.”
She tapped her pen on her desk while she spoke. She’d been thrumming with adrenaline ever since the meeting with Mackenzie.
“She has a conscience?” Connelly snorted.
“Allegedly. Anyway, Stewart didn’t exactly admit that he murdered Stone Fredricks, but she says he strongly intimated it to her.”
“Sonofa…”
She waited. He’d played a role in investigating Stone’s murder back during the myocarditis outbreak. She knew it had bothered him to close that chapter with the death unsolved.
“Did he tell her this recently?”
“Of course not. She’s been sitting on it for years. I guess she was notified of the parole board hearing and decided to finally do something about it.”
“Good for her. What’s that have to do with our weekend.”
“It’s sort of complicated. Bodhi King and Saul David aren’t planning to oppose Stewart’s release.”
“Wait—what?”
“They’ve forgiven him—or at least Bodhi has. Anyway, they think he’s been rehabilitated.” She let that sink in before continuing. “But if I can get a statement together for Mackenzie to submit, then the two of us should be able to convince the board he’s still a danger to society.” Maybe.
“She should just go to the police.”
“She’ll do that, too. Will is working with her on that part. You know, she’s going to be implicating herself because she asked Wally to keep an eye on Stone.”
“Hmm. Are you sure you’re the right person to be working on this—given your history with her?”
She laughed dryly. “If Bodhi and Saul can forgive Wally Stewart, I guess I can find it in my heart to forgive Mackenzie. I’m sorry about the weekend, though.”
He sighed. “So am I.”
She waited for him to tell her that it was okay and that he understood, but he didn’t. Instead he said, “The kids are really excited. They’re going to be disappointed.”
The words stung. She tried to brush them off.
“Why don’t you three go without me?” she offered, not really meaning it.
“That’s a thought. Maybe we will.”
The sting intensified.
“Oh. Okay. I have to go.”
Naya rapped on the door but didn’t wait for Sasha to answer before pushing it open.
“So, Carl says thanks.”
Sasha looked up from revising her impact statement. “Thanks for what? Dinner last night?”
“No. For getting him out of the foreign film playing tonight in Regent Square.”
“Foreign films? Ugh. I’m not sure why he’s thanking me, but he’s welcome.”
An unpleasant flashback to a pretentious independent filmmaker from Prague whom she’d dated briefly during law school made her shudder.
Naya arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “He’s thanking you because I canceled on him tonight and now he gets to watch the preseason Steelers game instead of ‘The Light Under the Water.’”
“What does that even mean—‘The Light Under the Water’? In what language is there light underwater?”
“Romanian, evidently.” Naya threw herself into Sasha’s guest chair without waiting to be invited and crossed her legs, dangling one shoe off her foot.
“And you told him you canceled because of me? Why?”
Naya slipped her foot back into her pump and leaned forward. “Because you’re not going to back out of your weekend at the lake because of that bottle-blonde disaster in Will’s office. Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Despite herself, Sasha giggled. “Did you hear why she’s here?”
“Caroline filled me in—on all of it—Mackenzie and Bodhi.” She shook her head. “Bodhi, man. It must be something else to be that … enlightened.”
“Hmmm.”
“Don’t you mean ‘ohm’?” Naya cracked. “Anyway. You work on your statement. I’ll help Lane draft hers after Will is finished with all the Fifth Amendment hoo-doo.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Sasha said in a rush as guilt flooded her system.
Naya shrugged.
Sasha couldn’t stop herself from blurting, “I told Will I didn’t think you were ready to be partner.”
Naya looked at her for a long moment. Then she said, “I know.”
“Oh.”
“Look, I don’t want to get into it. And I’m not going to beg you for it. But that doesn’t mean I want Finn and Fiona to mi
ss out on a weekend with their momma.”
“Naya—”
Naya raised a hand. “Seriously, Mac. That’s not what this is about.”
Sasha hesitated.
Naya was a closed book most of the time—even to her. She’d worked with Naya for five years before she’d so much as mentioned Carl’s name. Naya kept her personal life personal.
But there was no way Naya, even as cool and unflappable as she was, could be completely fine with being denied partnership.
“Can I just explain why I—?”
“Don’t.” Her voice was sharp. “Let’s roll up our sleeves and get to work so we can get you out of here. What does Marilyn Manson need?”
“I think you mean Marilyn Monroe. Marilyn Manson is that goth metal guy.”
“I know.”
Sasha choked back a laugh. “If you really don’t mind helping—”
“I really don’t.”
“Then, it would be great if you could take a stab at drafting her victim impact statement while I finish revising mine.”
At her inadvertent and terrible pun—take a stab—she saw Naya’s eyes travel to the scar on her arm. But Naya simply nodded.
“Sure. But she wasn’t exactly a victim, was she?”
Sasha pursed her lips. “No, she was more of a manipulative puppet master. But hold your nose and focus on the impact part—she lost her job, her reputation was damaged, that sort of thing.” She tried to keep the distaste out of her voice.
“And, that, Mac, is exactly why I want to focus on transactional law.”
“Mmm-hmm. Right. Titans of industry never color outside the lines.”
Naya just shook her head as she left the office. “I’ll be back with a draft for you in about an hour and a half.”
But she wasn’t.
She was back in four minutes, with a deep frown and eyes that flashed with anger.
“What happened?”
“Mackenzie bolted.”
“Bolted?”
“Will said that while he was explaining the range of possible outcomes that could result from being an accomplice to murder after the fact, she had a sudden change of heart.”
“She has a heart?” Sasha cracked.
[Sasha McCandless 10.5] The Humble Salve Page 3
