Killer Career

by Mandel, Morgan

  “I was in the lunchroom line and slipped on some grease. Now the boss won’t pay.”

  “Were you in a company designated eating area?”

  “Yeah, the company cafeteria. That’s where they make us eat.”

  “Well, then you should have a good case. I’ll send you some papers. We’ll file an emergency petition. Don’t worry. I’ll get you your money.”

  “How soon?”

  “First, we’ll need to get a hearing date. If all goes well, you’ll probably have a check in about four to six weeks.”

  “Man, I can’t wait that long. I got three kids and no green coming. How about spotting me a few thousand?”

  “Not an option. It’s against the law.”

  “You did it for Jerry Stanley.”

  How did he know?

  “Sorry. I can’t. Now, do you want me to file your case or not?”

  “Shit, no.”

  The receiver crashed so loud the vibrations hurt the nerve endings in Dade’s ears. Good riddance. Some lawyers paid to get cases, but he’d never stoop that low.

  Damn, he’d told Jerry to keep mum about the loan. Time for damage control. He punched in the telephone number. “Jerry, my friend, how’re you doing?”

  “Fine, thanks to you, buddy. What you did for me I’ll never forget.”

  “Hey, I’m glad it worked out; but, Jerry, do me a favor, okay?”

  “Anything, my man.”

  “Don’t let word out about that favor. I could get into trouble.”

  “Uh--”

  “Yeah, Jerry?”

  “I did celebrate a few weeks ago and bragged to a few buddies. No harm in that, right, man?”

  “Depends. No one else, Jerry, promise.”

  The damage was done. Dade could blow his top and make Jerry feel small, but he felt sorry for the guy. Jerry had had some tough breaks and life was finally turning around for him. No sense in spoiling his happiness.

  Mulling over the case, Dade slowly hung up the receiver. He’d fought hard for Jerry. The claim had been a monster to prove, with a prior injury murking up the medical. Maybe Jerry could have managed to make it, if the case hadn’t gone on to an appeal at the Illinois Supreme Court. Eight months with no money coming in and an invalid mother to support had quickly drained the man’s savings.

  Yeah, it was illegal to loan money to clients, but Dade’s conscience had insisted he make an exception. Ignoring the rules, he’d lent Jerry five thousand dollars to hold him over.

  Two months later, when the Commission decided in Jerry’s favor, Dade received it all back, along with tears of gratitude.

  Now the good deed had leaked out, yet he didn’t regret it. Hell, he knew what it was like to scrape by. Thank God he’d been lucky enough to escape that fate.

  Dade grimaced, remembering the cracked linoleum floors, and the cardboard he’d stuck in his shoes to keep the water off of his feet, not to mention the daily peanut butter and jelly sandwiches he’d had to eat.

  Julie had also had her share of poverty. Was she brave or foolish to turn her back on what she’d accomplished? Yeah, he was mad at her, but another part of him admired her guts. Maybe she would succeed. Maybe even one day she’d be as famous as Jensen. She did have the smarts. One thing for sure, she wouldn’t give up.

  Whatever Julie did, somehow he wanted her to be with him. They’d shared too much for it to end this way. She was a part of him and he wouldn’t let her disappear from his life.

  In the back of his mind, he’d always thought that someday he’d meet a woman and settle down and marry her. Fool that he was, he’d waited, not realizing he’d already met her.

  Had he waited too long? Would whatever she’d had with Jensen start up again?

  There was only one way to find out. It was time to assert himself. It should never have come to this, but it wasn’t going to end like this. Jensen would never get her. He’d see to that.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It had been a hellish Monday, but by evening the office was amazingly quiet. An opportune time to bone up on the Malloy trial coming up on Wednesday.

  Dade grabbed a yellow legal pad from the bottom desk drawer and yanked the six-inch file out of the cabinet.

  If he missed one detail, no matter how small, Barabat would pounce on it. Dade had to hand it to the guy. He might be a prick, but he sure did his homework.

  Digging his hands into the file, Dade searched for the operative report, MRI findings, the physicians’ and therapists’ records.

  He jotted down a few notes, but wasn’t getting anywhere. Knowing that he and Julie were the only ones left in the office made it impossible to concentrate. Funny, her presence had never bothered him before.

  The way he felt now he’d like nothing better than to march into her office, swipe the papers off her desk and pull her down on top of it. At the thought, he shifted in his chair. It groaned, echoing his frustration.

  This obsession with his soon-to-be ex-partner was definitely interfering with his production. He had to get a grip.

  Quiet footsteps approached his office. Expecting to see Julie, he looked up, but no one was there. Maybe he’d imagined it because she was on his mind. That was happening a lot lately.

  He took more notes, then stopped. It was no use. He couldn’t concentrate. Admitting defeat, he threw down his pen and grabbed a stack of paper. At least he could copy the exhibits and be that far ahead -- a perfect mindless job for the blithering idiot he’d disintegrated into. Tomorrow, when the rest of the staff was around, he’d review the contents of the Malloy file.

  Of course, along the way he had to pass her office.

  “Another late night,” she asked, as he strode past.

  “Yeah, one of many.”

  “Me, too. What a way to start the week.” She shuffled the papers in front of her dismissively, an obvious sign for Dade to leave.

  He gave her a long look. “Well, I better get these exhibits copied.”

  She nodded and went back to her file.

  Well, he’d botched that up. She probably thought he was still mad at her for leaving. He could have told her he was resigned to the fact, but somehow he couldn’t get the words out. Instead, he trudged down the hall into the copy room. There, he plopped the pile of papers into the feeder.

  As he stood watching the machine as it clanked away, he wondered if he’d ever regain the easy familiarity he’d had with Julie. Before, at least they’d visited each other and talked stuff over. They’d slaved hard, but also had fun. Of course, that was before, when they’d shared the common goal of building up their practice. Damn, why did she have to leave?

  He thrust another batch of papers into the feeder, waited and thought. The catch was he didn’t want Julie to stay if her heart wasn’t in it. His ache for her grew stronger each day, despite the possibility she had a thing for Jensen. She kept mum about whether or not she was seeing the famous author. He didn’t blame her. Not after the way he’d treated her.

  Forget that jerk. You belong with me, he wanted to say. He knew he’d have to tell her sooner or later. When he did, would she give him a pitying look, like the one she reserved for clients in dire straits, or by some miracle would she share his feelings? He knew he was being a coward for waiting, but foolishly wanted to prolong his hope.

  Thinking of his vacillation, he swore under his breath. Half-looking, he stuck another pile of papers into the feeder.

  A crunching sound alerted him the papers had jammed. Lights flashed all over the panel, reflecting the chaos of his mind. Just what he needed. That damn machine. It never worked right.

  He kicked it hard, which was stupid. His reward was a sore foot. A stream of obscenities burst from his lips, which didn’t solve anything, except to release his pent up frustration.

  Groaning, he opened the front and side panels to find the jammed papers. He should have known better. Copiers were never perfect in the best of circumstances and this one was nearing the end of its lease.


  Retrieving the last of the papers, he restarted the machine. Another jam. Now it became a challenge to get the best of the monster. He’d show who was boss. He’d finish this copy job if it was the last thing he did.

  Clenching his jaw, Dade searched the machine again. This time, he was able to reach inside and pull out three crunched letter-sized papers. He was about to close the door when he noticed something else, a tiny white scrap lodged tightly beneath the fuser. Aha, that was the culprit.

  He would not be defeated. With utmost care he wiggled and maneuvered the bit of paper until he triumphantly clutched the evildoer in his palm. After that, the rest of the job sped by.

  With satisfaction, he grabbed his bundles and headed back down the hall. The incident had given him a heady feeling. Right now, he felt invincible, ready to tackle the world. Amazing how an inanimate object could affect him this way.

  He headed straight to Julie’s office. He’d ask her out to dinner and not take no for an answer. Then what? He’d improvise.

  “How about,” the words died on his lips, as his eyes registered a chilling sight. A man stood over Julie with a gun aimed at her heart.

  Though Dade’s brain was frozen, somehow it spun of its own volition. He recognized the guy from the videotape Julie had shown him. It was the one who’d done those odd jobs while still collecting compensation. Watson, that was his name. How the man had bypassed security, Dade had no idea. At the moment, it didn’t matter. Not when a squeeze of the trigger could catapult Julie from this world to the next.

  “Put that gun down or you’ll regret it,” Dade said, trying to sound calm, though his mouth tasted of cotton and he could barely breathe.

  “No way.”

  “You don’t want to do this.” Dade inched from the doorway to a position alongside the front bookcase.

  Watson tightened his grip on the revolver. “Yes, I do. She deserves it. All I did was help a friend one crummy day. When the damn insurance company videotaped me, this bitch, who was supposed to be my lawyer, instead of sticking up for me, deserted me. I’ve got no money. I’ve got nowhere to go. It’s all her fault.”

  Dade sidled to the next bookcase, a mere ten feet more, yet an eternity from the frozen couple.

  “No, it’s your fault,” he said, trying to keep Watson preoccupied.

  “Like hell.”

  “Yes, it is. You didn’t play by the rules. You did something dumb.” Dade took a few steps away from the bookcase.

  “Stay where you are,” Watson said, realizing Dade’s intent. He swung the gun away from Julie and aimed it at Dade.

  It was time. Dade leapt the remaining steps then flung himself crosswise at Watson. His right leg, still sore from the accident, screamed in protest as it landed heavily against Watson’s rock hard frame. They crashed to the floor. From the force of the collision, the gun flew out of Watson’s hand.

  Watson was closest. Recovering the weapon, he swiveled and rose. Dade started to get up, but Watson hit him in the shoulder with the gun butt.

  “Down, or your partner gets it.”

  Watson turned to Julie, who was in the act of picking up the phone. “Put that down now or I’ll shoot. Get over here.”

  She clutched the receiver, as if weighing the options. Dade knew what she was thinking. Was this their only chance? Should she take it? He couldn’t let her do it. There had to be another way.

  “Do what he says,” he told her calmly.

  She averted her eyes from his, but not soon enough. He’d read her mind. What he saw scared him. Though she slowly put the receiver back onto its cradle, he knew she’d try something.

  He didn’t know what. His heart hammered against his chest. Julie, don’t do it, he wanted to scream. He couldn’t clue Watson in. Julie was on her own. She better not try anything crazy. She could get badly hurt or worse.

  Instead of moving in Dade’s direction as she’d been ordered, Julie took a few steps in the direction of the door.

  “Not that way,” Watson yelled, turning toward her and away from Dade.

  “You mean this way,” Dade asked, flinging himself across the floor straight at Watson’s ankles. As the man fell, Dade chopped at his elbow.

  “Yow, my crazy bone,” Watson screeched, grabbing his arm. The gun dropped. Dade reached for it and felt the cold steel against his fingers.

  Now he held the upper hand. He quickly rolled to a sitting position and straddled Watson. The man lay on his stomach with his cheeks and mouth pressed into the carpet fibers. From the corner of his eye, Dade saw that Julie was already on the phone and dialing for help.

  It was his turn. A feeling of power surged through him as he jammed the gun barrel against Watson’s neck. If he chose, he could pull the trigger and obliterate this scum who’d almost killed Julie. “How does that feel, you frickin’ a-hole? Go ahead. Do something stupid. Give me an excuse to pull the trigger and claim self-defense.”

  “No, don’t,” Watson whispered.

  “Stay put then.” Dade rose slowly and planted a foot on Watson’s back. “I’d like nothing more than to blow your feeble brains out. It wouldn’t take much.”

  He snuck a glance at Julie, who stood white faced and trembling. At sight of her distress, anger surged through him. He’d give anything to blow the bastard away. He’d never had the urge to kill before, not even when his father had left. Now it took every ounce of his will power to hold himself back and not plug the creep.

  “Julie, can you pull out a few computer cords for me?” he said, not taking his eyes away from the sniveling Watson below him.

  Second later, Dade held the cords in his hand. He bent down and tied Watson’s arms and legs together.

  He was just finishing when the security guards burst in.

  “It’s about time.” Dade passed the gun to the nearest. “Here, watch this jerk until the police get here.”

  He turned to Julie, who was biting her lip and trembling. He had to take care of her before post traumatic stress syndrome got to her.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said, shielding her with his arm.

  “I don’t know why I’m shaking.”

  “Don’t apologize.” Dade held her close by his side as he led her out of the room.

  “When the time came, you did what you had to do. You were damn good. That took courage.”

  At the sight of what Julie was going through, his face felt hot. He almost wished he had plugged Watson. Shock was not the best thing for someone with Julie’s low blood sugar condition. Thank God, the guards had made it before matters grew worse.

  He led Julie to his office, where he settled her into his chair. She was still shaking. He removed his suit coat and draped it around her.

  “I’ll make you some coffee. Don’t go away.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” She smiled back bravely.

  Any response was better than nothing. She’d come around. He’d see her through this. It could have been a lot worse.

  Returning with the mug of hot liquid, he held it out to her. “Have a drink. I guarantee it will make you feel better.”

  “In that case, I can’t refuse.” Her hands trembled as she grabbed the handle.

  “I’ll help you with that.”

  Coming around to her side, he placed his fingers over her frozen hand. Ignoring the super-charge of electricity jolting up his arm, he guided the mug to her lips.

  After a few sips, the color returned to her cheeks and she was able to hold the mug on her own. The worst was over. She was coming around.

  She started to talk it over. He wouldn’t stop her. Getting everything out was the first step to recovery.

  He’d been so busy dealing with the situation he hadn’t had time to dwell on the danger. Now it shook him. They’d had a close call. Anything could have happened, but thankfully hadn’t. They’d made it through. Thank God for that.

  Footsteps approached. Two uniformed policemen stood in the doorway. Dade glanced at Julie. Was she ready for this?

>   “Can you give us a few minutes, he asked the officers.

  With a determined look, Julie set the mug down. “No, let’s get it over with. I’m fine now.”

  That was Julie. No crazed gunman could keep her down.

  It took over forty minutes for the statements to be completed. By that time Watson had been read his rights, handcuffed and led away.

  With the ordeal over, Julie and Dade, along with the building guards, stepped into the elevator.

  “Ms. McGuire, Mr. Donovan, I’m awful sorry about what happened. I don’t know how the hell he got in,” one of them said. “I’ve been here since five o’clock. The cameras and monitors were in place. We always check IDs. Something strange is going on. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  Dade flashed him a stern glance. “You better. This can’t happen again. While you’re at it, examine the tape. It might offer a clue.”

  “Videotapes are one of Watson’s downfalls, aren’t they?” Julie said, turning to Dade.

  She and Dade exchanged a knowing smile, making him feel as if he’d entered their own secret world, a place where no one else could get in. He’d missed that feeling. He didn’t want it to end.

  Outside the building, he turned to Julie. “About two hours ago, I was about to ask you out to dinner. Instead, how about I fix you something at my place, where it’s nice and peaceful? Later I can drive you home or to your car, whatever you want.”

  Julie, who usually made a point of asserting her independence, this time numbly nodded. What a way to win.

  * * *

  Julie sank into Dade’s BMW. Her fingers trembled as she fastened the seat belt. Her empty stomach hurt. The accumulation of shock and hunger had taken their toll. She recognized the signs. Her blood sugar was dropping. At this rate, she’d never get herself regulated. Dr. Crane would not be happy the next time he read her blood work.

  The ride to the condo passed in a hazy blur. She had to eat and soon, but she was so tired she wondered if she had the energy to lift a fork.

  Somehow she made it up the elevator and into the condo. Dade flipped on the stereo and pointed to the couch. The soft soothing sounds of Enya floated through the room.