After that, when Maggie distributed documents to the necessary parties, she always placed Michael’s copies in the black Hermes tray on his desk. She told herself she hadn’t done it intentionally to have the excuse to see him, but in the back of her mind she wondered about her motives.
Over the next few weeks, she accompanied Michael, along with John and Ellen, to court a handful of times, each time feeling like she was walking away with experience she hadn’t gotten during her time in law school.
During the last week of October, they were gearing up for the trial of Stan Phillips, the retired New York Giants football player accused of domestic violence against his estranged wife. Maggie made certain that all of the necessary files were in order, checking three times to ensure that Michael had copies of everything. She’d just dropped a stack of folders in Michael’s office and was heading back the library to shelve books when John approached Karen’s desk.
“Do we have extra toner?” Maggie heard him ask. “I can never find it. Maybe we’re out?”
Karen sighed and headed toward the copy room. “John, it’s in the cabinet to the left of the machine. I told you that last time.”
Maggie rolled her eyes and entered the library. She didn’t see Ellen move to Karen’s desk and start flipping through the stack of files set aside for Michael.
A half-hour later, Maggie was in the back corner of the library, her nose stuck in a book. It was an occupational hazard, she’d discovered, in shelving books. During her library duties, she occasionally found herself distracted, caught up in reading some precedent or other. She had her phone with her, ear buds in her pocket, but she hadn’t put on music today. She didn’t intend to be there that long. Absorbed in a case from three years ago, she slowly became aware of voices in the room.
“What do you mean, you can’t find them?” a male voice demanded.
“I mean they aren’t there!” a female voice spat. “I checked Karen’s whole damn desk. The Phillips files aren’t anywhere.”
Maggie recognized the voices of John and Ellen. She sat stone still and held her breath.
“Well where the fuck can they be? Maggie put my copies in my box. You got yours, didn’t you?” John asked.
“Yes, I got mine!” Ellen hissed. “Where did that bitch put the ones for Michael?”
“I don’t know. You don’t suppose she’s just giving them straight to him, do you?” John wondered. “It would be next to impossible to slip into his office and take them.”
“I want that asshole to lose this case,” Ellen said. “You should be in charge of the 50th floor. He thinks he’s God’s gift to the world. Everyone knows that you deserve to be partner. When he loses this case and that Neanderthal goes to jail, the rest of the firm won’t be so impressed with him anymore.”
“We thought that about the Larson case, too, but Maggie ruined it,” John said.
“Baby, this case is bigger than that one. Nobody cares about a tennis player,” Ellen said. “People will lose their minds when a football hero goes down.”
Maggie slowly rose from her seated position on the floor, breathing through her mouth to keep from making any noise. As she did, she slightly bumped the cart of books, causing one to fall over. The noise sounded to Maggie like a cannon going off.
“Shit! Someone’s in here!” John hissed.
When they rounded the corner Maggie was facing the cart with her back to them, ear buds firmly in place.
“Hello!” Ellen shouted.
Maggie whirled around, eyes wide. “Holy crap, you startled me!” she said, removing her ear pieces. Van Halen could clearly be heard, Diamond Dave wailing about Panama. “Can I help you find what you’re looking for?”
John was glaring at her at first, but like a window shade drawn down over his face, his expression returned to that benign, vaguely dull look he usually wore. “Sorry, Maggie, we didn’t mean to scare you. I was just looking for the Posner book. Ellen was trying to help me, but...” He grinned apologetically.
That grin, paired with his earlier glare and the conversation she’d overheard, chilled Maggie to the bone. She ignored the involuntary shiver and pasted on her best smile. “No problem, I can get that for you.”
Book in hand, the pair left her alone in the library. Maggie watched the second hand complete its circuit of the face of her watch ten times before she dared leave the room.
She grabbed her folio and walked casually to Michael’s office. “He’s on the phone,” Karen informed her. Maggie nodded and let herself into his office anyway.
Chapter 26
“Come on, Dave,” Michael crooned into the phone, “there has to be a way for us to plea this thing. You and I both know...” His train of thought was momentarily derailed as his door opened and Maggie entered his office. Dammit, I told Karen I was on the phone.
The expression on Maggie’s face changed his attitude immediately. She was pale and wild-eyed, gripping her leather folio as though it were a lifeline and she was in danger of drowning in a storm-tossed sea. He frowned. “Look, Dave, I’ll have to call you back.”
Replacing the phone, he crossed to her. “What’s up, Mags?”
She blinked a couple of times and licked her lips anxiously. “I...well it’s just...”
“Come on, sit down,” he said, guiding her to the black leather couch. He sat in a matching chair at an angle to her. “What’s going on?” he asked softly.
Maggie put down her folio on the coffee table in front of the couch, then clutched her hands together. “I was putting away books and I overheard some people talking.” She related the whole conversation, word for word.
Michael gazed beyond Maggie and out the window as he absently chewed the end of his thumb, listening without interruption.
When she finished, he still didn’t say anything. “I...I wasn’t sure what to do. I mean, I didn’t want to run and tattle. But they’re deliberately sabotaging you, your cases, your clients. And they tried to blame me, say that I was incompetent.” She wrung her hands restlessly.
Michael met her eyes and smiled kindly. “You did the right thing.” He lightly drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “In all honesty, I’ve gotten a little lazy, letting other people do my research for me.” He sighed. “I need to up my game, I suppose.”
“But what are you going to do?” she asked urgently. “You know I’ve never really gotten along with Ellen. But Michael, there was a moment I didn’t even recognize John. I’m talking crazy eyes!” She shook her head. “He scared me.”
Michael placed his hand over hers. “I don’t want you to worry. I’ll take care of it. Keep putting my files directly in here. And keep acting like everything is the same. I’m going to give them a little more rope,” he said cryptically.
That weekend, Michael had his private investigator, Sam Mainor, meet him at the office. Together they outlined the placement of security cameras with audio capability in the reception area including Karen’s desk, the library, and the conference table of Michael’s office.
By Monday morning, Michael had a live feed on a small laptop computer. He could view any camera he chose or he could have a split screen of all eight at once. A six terabyte storage drive ensured that everything would be recorded. And no one was any the wiser.
* * *
Over the first couple of weeks in November, Michael was disappointed to catch nothing useful on the security cameras. Occasionally he watched as Maggie shelved books in the library. If she spent very long in there, she’d have music and inevitably she’d sing along. He smiled recalling the day of the Ramones t-shirt.
They were supposed to have been in court but the Phillips trial was delayed due to complications with the prosecution, a fact that didn’t bother Michael. If they were scrambling, all the better for his client.
The Tuesday before Thanksgiving they received word that the trial would begin the week after the holiday. Tired of waiting for something to happen on video, Michael decided to force the issue a bit.
<
br /> “Say, John,” he said, popping his head into Hemphill’s office, “I’m really behind on some things. Could you take a look at this deposition for the Phillips case, maybe highlight the vital parts for me?”
John gave his best collegial smile. “Sure, Michael, I’d be glad to look it over, no problem.”
“Thanks, bro,” he grinned, “you’re a life saver.”
Later in the day, Michael stopped by Maggie’s office, a manila folder in his hand. “Howdy Mags, how’s it going?”
She smiled at him. “Great, boss, how are you?”
He sank into a chair beside her desk. “I’m peachy. What are your holiday plans?”
She slid back her chair to face him. “I’m headed to Rhode Island tomorrow night. Ben and I are going to our friend Casey’s. She and her fiancé just bought a house so they’re having everyone up for Thanksgiving. How about you?”
“Just a quick trip to the Bahamas,” he said. “Have you been there?”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “I’ve never been anywhere outside of the continental US. My dad was going to take me to Florence for my college graduation. We were going to check out the architecture.” A sad look crossed her face. “Well, anyway, that didn’t happen.”
He smiled at her with his eyes. “You should go,” he said quietly.
She laughed. “Yes, Michael, I’ll get right on that.”
He placed the folder on her desk. “Could you go over this deposition for me, outline the vital parts for me? It’s for the Phillips case next week.”
“Of course, glad to,” she answered.
“Thanks! We’ll get together in my office tomorrow sometime after the morning meeting.” He left, having given her the same deposition he’d given John.
The following day, Michael called together the team working on the Phillips case. Maggie, John, and Ellen met at the conference table in his office. Joining them was Stan Hodges. “I wanted fresh eyes to look over everything,” Michael explained as he welcomed Stan. They spent a good hour and a half going over witnesses and the order in which they would be called, evidence that would be introduced, and predicting the prosecution’s strategies.
“Now, John looked over some documents for me. What did you find?” Michael asked.
John slid him the folder. “I eliminated a lot of unnecessary stuff, Michael.” He glanced at Maggie. “Sometimes it’s hard to determine what’s really important. With a little experience, you learn to weed out the extraneous, focus on the vital.”
Michael flipped through the folder which was considerably thinner than when he’d given it to John the day before. He looked up at Maggie and saw her lips pressed together, a pink flush creeping up her neck. “Maggie works hard to be thorough. She’s coming along nicely.” He put down John’s folder. “Mags, how about that file you checked over?”
Maggie handed him her folder without a word. He could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. Hang on, Mags. It’ll all be worth it. Her file was about three times as thick as the one John had given him. He flipped through the first several pages. “This looks pretty in-depth,” he commented.
Maggie couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. “You’ll see I’ve highlighted the things that are absolutely vital,” she shot John a look, “and I’ve also cross-referenced testimony that is corroborated by other witnesses. I’ve included the transcripts of those interviews as well.”
“So to be clear, you didn’t remove anything from this file?” Michael asked.
“No, it’s all important. Like I said, the most vital parts are highlighted, but it’s all necessary. I also think that you help the jury follow the chain of events by connecting the dots. That’s why I added the corroborating testimony.”
Michael gave her his pleased smile. “Good work, Mags.” He looked to John. “And you’re confident in what you gave me, the parts you left out?”
John nodded sagely. “Absolutely.”
Michael leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtful. “You see, here’s the thing. John and Maggie both reviewed the same deposition.” He paused to let that thought sink in, satisfied with the shocked looks on the faces of everyone at the table.
Ellen was the first to begin sputtering. “What the...what’s going on here? Is John’s professionalism being called into question here, because that’s completely unacceptable!” She stood and pointed at Maggie. “This...person...you’ve brought in here has done nothing but cause trouble from the moment she got here.”
Michael rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, fingers steepled in front of him and he looked slightly amused. “John, are you going to let Ellen fight your battles for you?”
John’s mouth fell open as he looked from Ellen to Maggie to Michael. The tension in the room was palpable. “Fight my...” A fiery glare spread across his face. “What exactly are you saying Michael?”
“What I’m saying is that a recent law school grad who’s been with the firm for six months completely kicked your ass on this thing, so either A, you tanked it on purpose, or B, you’re not very good at your job.”
John’s mouth soundlessly opened and closed. Ellen jumped in. “You’d better watch yourself,” she said to Michael.
Michael continued to look amused. “I’ll take that under advisement. Now,” he looked around the table, “it’s just about time for lunch.”
Maggie rose from her seat, grateful to have a task that would take her out of this meeting. “Don’t worry, Mags. John is getting lunch today.”
Maggie froze where she was and glanced at John, who looked apoplectic. “What do you mean, I’m getting lunch today?” he demanded.
“I mean, you’re getting everyone’s order today and calling it in, then distributing it when it’s delivered.” He fixed John with an intense icy stare.
John stood, his face pure rage. “If you think for one second...”
“I don’t mind,” Maggie said softly, hoping to defuse the situation.
“Sit down, Maggie,” Michael ordered, never taking his eyes off of John. Maggie meekly slid back into her chair.
John continued to try to stare down Michael for a moment before knocking over his chair and storming out of the room. Ellen quickly followed him. The rest of the table sat in stunned silence.
“Well, that was fun,” Stan quipped.
Chapter 27
Maggie pushed the last cartload of books into the library. In another hour and a half, she’d be on her way to meet Ben at the airport. Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough. She was still feeling stressed out by the morning’s meeting. It would be great to relax with Casey and the gang over the long weekend. She thought about her small suitcase stowed in the corner of her office and smiled. She didn’t even have to go home.
“You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?”
Maggie whirled around to see John leaning against a table just inside the library. Ellen closed the double doors and stood in front of them, arms crossed. John had that intense look on his face she remembered from their last encounter in this room.
She pulled herself as tall as she could, affecting confidence she didn’t feel. “I just tried to be thorough, that’s all,” she answered, pushing past him to pick up more books.
“Little Miss NYU, always trying to be a good girl,” mocked Ellen. Maggie slid her eyes in the woman’s direction and elected not to be baited.
“Here’s the thing, Maggie,” John said in a deceptively calm tone, “you made me look bad today.”
Maggie cocked her head to the side and met his eyes. “You made yourself look bad today. You can’t put that off on me.” She turned to walk away, intending to shelve the books in her hands when he grabbed her arm, causing the books to crash to the floor.
In his office, Michael watched the situation unfold on the screen of his laptop. Just give me a little more.
“I think you should leave now,” Maggie said, snatching her arm away from John. “I don’t have any more to say to you.”
He grinned
eerily, stepping closer and causing her to back into the table. “But I have a lot more to say to you.” He had nearly a twelve inch advantage over Maggie and he loomed over her.
Maggie could feel his hot breath on her face. “You need to back the fuck up!” she said, putting her hands on his chest and shoving him backwards.
John lunged at her, his huge hands gripping her around the neck and he slammed her onto the table, leaving her legs dangling off the edge. Maggie struggled to scream but couldn’t. She’d had the wind knocked out of her when she landed on the table and John was tightening his grip on her throat. Desperately she grasped at his hands.
“I ought to fuck you like the cunt you are,” John growled, forcing her legs apart with his, her skirt riding higher. He tightened his grip with one hand and tore at her blouse with the other.
It was Ellen’s turn to be shocked. “John! You’re pushing this too far!””
“Shut up, Ellen!” he hurled over his shoulder.
Michael raced out of his office. “Call security now!” he shouted at a startled Karen as he ran toward the library. Reaching the doors, he discovered they were locked. He lowered his shoulder and rammed with all his might. The doors gave way with a splintering of wood, the glass cracking but not shattering.
Maggie tried desperately to pry off John’s remaining hand finger by finger but her vision was going dark.
Michael ran past Ellen, who stood motionless, not knowing what to do. He grabbed John by the shoulder and threw him back. As soon as John released his grip on her neck, Maggie slid off the edge of the table. Her knees buckled and she crumpled to the floor in a coughing, gasping heap.
Karen entered the library with two large security guards. “These two are not to leave this room,” Michael commanded, pointing to John and Ellen. He knelt beside Maggie.
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