Counsel (Counsel #1) Read online

Page 8


  My body, treacherous bastard, has reacted to the sight of her with quickened heartbeat and a stirring in my groin, and most maddeningly of all, as I watch her interact with her companion, a strange, hollow feeling in my gut. I mentally castigate myself and will my errant body into line, succeeding only barely by reminding myself of her true nature.

  I turn my attention to the man folding his tall, muscular frame into the chair across from her. He’s in his early to mid-thirties, good-looking, with coffee toned skin and close-cropped black hair. I watch him take hold of her hand and her lean forward. "I've missed you," she says with a wistful look.

  "Adam?" Lisa reclaims my attention. "Do you know her?" she asks, staring at Angelique.

  "Not really." I cast a deliberately dismissive glance at their table, only to meet her eyes. She stares back before pointedly looking at Lisa, and then me once more; an eyebrow raised in challenge. The man, sensing her distraction, looks around and seeing me watching, scowls menacingly before turning back to her.

  "Who is he; is he bothering you?" he asks.

  "No one. No one to be worried about," she says, casting a scathing glance my way.

  "Doesn't look like it to me," Lisa remarks, sounding disgruntled.

  "She’s not important," I lie.

  I try to reclaim my earlier light mood, but it’s lost. I try to forget about Angelique Bain, but her presence makes itself felt like a constant hum in the air. I studiously avoid looking their way throughout lunch. When we leave, I feel as if I can breathe again. I hail a cab, intending to drop Lisa off on my way home; but as we near her place, she leans in with a whispered invitation. Flustered by my unwanted reaction a woman I despise, I accept.

  Later, I do my best not to think about soft, naturally pink lips as I watch Lisa’s red-tinged mouth envelop me.

  .

  .

  Jodi and I spend most of Monday preparing for the Cordi brothers’ pre-trial hearings, scheduled to take place the following day.

  Silvio and Enzo’s appearances proceed without incident. The judge rules that both men have a case to answer, and they’re escorted back to prison to await trial. Later, accompanied by Jon, we make our way to the courtroom where Joseph’s hearing is due to start. We’ve only been seated for minutes when the clerk approaches the defense table and leans in to speak with Jones. He nods curtly at the man before turning to have a short, animated discussion with Bryce. Jones gets up to leave, and Bryce makes his way over to us.

  "There's been an unforeseen development," he addresses me. "Our client has waived his rights to a hearing. My colleague is notifying the court now and will, on his return to our office, prepare and then lodge the necessary paperwork."

  "I hope this is not some stunt," I reply.

  "I have more respect for our legal institution than that, Thorne," he returns, clearly annoyed. "I assure you that this has come as a surprise to us; we don’t know what our client is thinking at this point. Travis will speak with him."

  "Good luck with that. We’ll see you in court for the next event," I say in a more conciliatory tone because I can tell he’s being truthful. I turn to confer with Jodi, but she’s standing, already having packed our documents. We rejoin a curious looking Jon. "Let's grab a coffee nearby," she says at his questioning look.

  Pondering Joseph’s motivation, I ignore the conversation as Jodi fills Jon in on the latest occurrence. It's rare for a defendant to waive the right to a prelim, and even more rare that a defense attorney would advocate doing so because it’s their one chance to have charges dismissed. In instances where they fail, they generally use the opportunity to determine the exact nature of the prosecution’s evidence. In short, the hearing provides defense counsel with critical information and insight into the prosecution's case before trial.

  "Why the hell would he do that?" Jon asks as the waitress leaves with our orders. "That slimy bastard does nothing without a motive."

  "It could be for one of any number of reasons. Let’s say prosecution intends to call witnesses at the prelim hearing who may, for whatever reason, be unavailable for trial. They would, in effect, get testimonies on record, and those transcripts would then be available for use at trial. Waiving the hearing could prevent those testimonies from being available," I say, staring at them pointedly.

  "Fuck!" Jon exclaims at the same time Jodi speaks.

  "He's counting on witnesses not being available at trial. But how can he?" she asks.

  "He can make them disappear," Jon concludes.

  "But that means that he must be organizing it from inside." Jodi looks aghast.

  We eat in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. If Joseph does have the ability to contact one or more of his henchmen still at large, he could bribe, threaten or do worse to witnesses. We have enough documented evidence, but the lack of witnesses to substantiate it will weaken our case. I'm still thinking about how we can prevent that from happening when a waitress interrupts my reverie.

  "Mr. Thorne?" she asks tentatively, holding out an envelope.

  "Yes," I smile, and she blushes beet-red.

  "Umm, that man just asked me to give you this," she says shyly.

  I glance around the room, "What man?"

  "At the door. He said he was a friend and wanted to surprise you."

  "Oh, he's gone…" She exclaims when glancing over her shoulder.

  I reach out, but Jon slaps my hand down. "Put it on the table," he tells the young woman sharply and removes his phone from his pocket.

  "Can you get some rubber gloves and a plastic bag, Miss?" he demands. "Now, please," he adds more gently at her alarmed expression.

  Chapter Eleven

  "I need to take this down to the station," Jon announces, staring at the envelope on the table.

  "What? You think it’s poison or some chemical compound?" I ask incredulously, and Jodi draws a shocked breath.

  "We can't take any chances, Adam," Jon says. I protest, but he holds up a hand. "We've just discussed the lengths Joseph would go to; why would he stop at witnesses?"

  "Because another prosecutor would step in. We're in danger of becoming paranoid."

  "Adam, let's just get it checked out," Jodi reasons.

  "I don’t have a problem with that. I just want us to maintain perspective and not lose our nerve. That's what they'd want… if this is really what you suspect it is." I add as Jon’s about to interrupt. The waitress returns just then. Jon introduces himself properly and thanks her before donning the rubber gloves. He carefully places the envelope into the plastic bag, seals it shut and removes the gloves.

  "I'll get this to forensics." He reaches for his wallet, but I wave him off.

  "Get back to me as soon as you can," I say. He nods and after a hurried goodbye, leaves.

  I look into Jodi’s fear-filled eyes. "Relax, he's just being cautious." I beckon the waitress to order more coffee, and then, to distract Jodi, turn the discussion to work.

  "I had a thought about Maria Riviera. I want us to check the sex worker lists for anyone with a birth-date within five years of hers. Then, I want to narrow those down to anyone who matches her physical appearance. I know it’s a long shot, but it will be worth the extra work if it pays off."

  Jodi looks sick as she grasps my thinking. "You're right; they wouldn't miss out on an opportunity to exploit a child and profit by it. I'm onto it," she says, already reaching for her bag.

  .

  .

  "I know we have our meeting scheduled for five, but I have somewhere I need to be. Do you have ten minutes to give me a progress report now?" Bristly asks from my doorway that afternoon.

  "Of course, Sir. Have a seat," I offer. He settles his large frame into my visitors’ chair before raising one of his bushy brows as a signal for me to continue. Bristly expresses surprise when I inform him of Justin’s plea. "Really? I don't think any of my cases involved one. What do you think t
hey’re thinking?"

  I share my theory on their strategy. "Sly bastards, aren't they?" he says almost admiringly.

  I provide an overview of the cases against the Cordi henchmen next, which are progressing through the system without any surprises. Nate Barnes has decided to cooperate and testify against the brothers. He listens intently as I tell him about the brothers' cases and Joseph’s decision to waive the pre-trial hearing.

  "You have a smart head on those shoulders, Thorne," Bristly says when I’ve expounded my views on Joseph’s actions. "When you first joined the department, I doubted that a man so pretty could be smart or ruthless enough for the job." He positively grins as, with a raise of his bushy brows, he challenges me to object to his description of me. I don’t.

  "Smart," he says with another smile. "Most men’s egos would have dictated that they respond."

  Finally, I tell him about the mysterious note. His banter instantly disappears.

  "You and Maddox need to be careful," he warns. "This is a high stakes game for the Cordis. Let me know the forensic results as soon as you have them. I don't want us to overreact, but if I deem it necessary, I will insist on protection for both you and Maddox. " He looks at me sternly, and I nod my acquiescence.

  He gets up to leave. "I don't want anything to happen either of you. Be careful, Adam," he turns to say from the doorway.

  .

  .

  I’ve only just entered my office the next morning when my phone rings. "Good, you're there. I'm on my way," Jon says without preamble.

  "Pick up good coffee," I ask and hang up to immediately dial Jodi’s extension.

  "One day, I’ll have a life outside of work again," she answers petulantly.

  "You wish! Jon's on his way in, would you like to join us?"

  "Give a girl a chance to put her handbag down, Thorne, it's only seven-thirty, for goodness sake. I’ll be there in ten." I smile; bossy Jodi’s back.

  Jodi and I are going over the day’s schedule when Jon arrives, juggling a cardboard tray containing our coffees, a messenger bag, and a brown paper bag. He’s barely placed the items on the table when Jodi snatches the bag and eagerly opens it. She looks up at him with a brilliant smile.

  "They're your favorites," he says rather shyly for the usually confident Jon.

  I look on with a good deal of interest and amusement. These two definitely have a thing for each other.

  "You went all the way to Café Provence?" she asks in amazement.

  "It was on my way." He shrugs, trying to hide his pleasure at her response.

  "No, it's not. That was really sweet of you, Jon." She stretches up to kiss him on the cheek, and I swear, he blushes.

  "Are either of you going to let me in on what's in the bag?" I ask, unsuccessfully hiding my amusement.

  "Chocolate croissants, the best in the city, and if you don’t behave, you won't get any," Jodi threatens, clutching the bag proprietorially.

  "You wouldn't do that to me." I waggle my fingers, reaching for the bag. "How come you don't do nice things for me?" I tease Jon. His faces flushes, knowing that I’m on to him.

  "Jodi’s better looking," he says in an attempt at nonchalance.

  "I am. Do you have something to say about that?" she challenges, instantly jumping to his defense.

  "I wouldn't dare." I feign surrender.

  "Should we get down to business?" I suggest, letting them off the hook. Jodi makes her way to the refreshment table. He hands out the coffees as she places the plate of pastries and paper napkins on the table. When we’ve each helped ourselves, Jon unzips his bag and removes a sheet of paper and pushes it toward me.

  I preferred you as a sniveling kid, it reads. I have no idea what the hell it means. Jodi peers over my shoulder.

  "That's it?" I ask Jon.

  "That’s it. Thankfully, there was no sign of poison," he replies.

  "I don't get it," I mutter, pondering how the words on the page could possibly relate to me.

  "Maybe the waitress gave it to the wrong person?" Jodi suggests hopefully.

  "It was addressed to Adam, and the guy mentioned his name to the waitress." Jon pulls out a photocopy of the envelope to prove his point.

  "What about fingerprints?" I ask impatiently.

  "We’ve had some luck there. They found prints belonging to Barry Chambers, a well-known dealer. My guys are out looking for him now. We’ll drive to the precinct as soon as I get the call," he says.

  "Can you think of anyone who’d send you something like this? It’s obvious this person knew you when you were young," Jodi asks.

  "Very few people know about my childhood and those who do, wouldn’t be responsible for something like this… but I’m wondering whether it could be linked to what Joseph said before…."

  "What exactly did he say?" Jon interjects

  "I never thought I'd see you again.... You've come a long way," I repeat the words that have kept me awake many nights.

  "Are you sure you haven't met him before?" Jon presses.

  "I've wracked my brain, and I honestly can't remember, but I can’t get rid of the feeling that I’ve seen him before. I asked my father and Matt, my best friend who grew up with me, but they can’t recall a time or incident where we could have met."

  "Chambers may give us something," Jon says and knowing that we’ve exhausted all possibilities on the note for now, we discuss the trials and ongoing investigations. Jon’s had no word on the dealer when he’s ready to leave, so we part ways to get on with our day.

  At two o’clock, Jon calls to say that Chambers has been brought in. I leave for the precinct immediately, and when I arrive, find Jon waiting for me outside an interview room.

  "I told you, man, I did nothing wrong. I only did a guy a favor," Chambers says sullenly in response to Jon’s question.

  "Do you really expect us to believe you just did a favor for a guy you don't even know? " Jon leans across to get in Chambers' face. The usually calm and reserved Jon can be a scary bastard when he puts his mind to it, I decide.

  "Don't bullshit me! You think doing fifteen years is tough? I promise it will be your worst nightmare if you don’t tell me what I want to know. Imagine what would happen to you in prison if word gets out that you betrayed the Cordis?"

  Chambers’ already sallow complexion turns sicklier. "I may have met the guy once or twice before," he mutters.

  "I'm listening," Jon says, settling back in his seat.

  "His name’s Victor. He’s Mr. Cordi’s enforcer, that’s all I know. You don’t turn him down when he asks," he whines, turning to me.

  I raise an eyebrow, letting him know I’m not fooled. He pushes drugs onto sick and innocent people; he doesn't give a damn about me or anyone else.

  "Doesn't mean I wouldn't put you away, so you’d better think carefully about Detective Holmes’ offer," I reply tersely.

  "Tell me what you know about this Victor and what he looks like," Jon demands. Satisfied that Chambers has told him all he knows, Jon leaves the room and returns with a book of mug shots. He slams it down on the table.

  Chambers eventually points to a photograph. The guy is huge, with dark, close-shaven hair and an angry looking scar running down his left cheek and onto his neck. Even from his headshot, I can tell he’s hugely muscled. I understand now why Chambers had been terrified to refuse him.

  Jon identifies him as Victor Perez, reputedly of Mexican origin, who started working for Joseph some years back. The connection confirms our suspicions about the sender of the note, but I’m still no closer to discovering where and how Joseph and I met.

  Chapter Twelve

  Back in my office, the note and Joseph’s behavior continue to baffle and frustrate me. I’m convinced now that I must have encountered him before. I sense that all the clues are there, but that I'm missing the insight to make sense of them. My hope now is that Perez will provide an
swers to the questions I so badly need.

  I force myself to forget about Joseph by immersing myself in work for the rest of the day and a large part of the night when I get home.

  The next morning, on my return from a meeting with Bristly, Bec delivers an urgent message from Jodi. Natasha Perkins has been located and, in an earlier interview with Jon, confirmed her past relationship with Justin. She intends leaving town for a week tomorrow but agreed to come in for an interview. Jodi, Bec tells me, has just left to meet her in reception.

  "Conference room four," she calls out as I turn away.

  Justin’s former escort is tall, blonde, and tanned enough to be mistaken for a resident of Los Angeles or Miami rather than Boston. She’s the antithesis of Angelique Bain, and I can't help wondering how both could have appealed to him. I have no idea what he paid the woman sitting before me, but if I were a betting man, I'd wager it was nowhere near the sum he paid for her replacement. Natasha’s appearance is all about overt sexuality and promise, whereas Angelique Bain’s natural beauty and sensuality hints at hidden depths.

  "I’m Adam Thorne, Ms. Perkins, thank you for coming in," I say, offering my hand in greeting.

  "Counselor, a pleasure. Please call me Natasha," she gushes and without standing, takes my hand. When I step back, she slowly and deliberately re-crosses her legs. Jodi unsuccessfully suppresses an amused smile.

  "You've told Detective Holmes that you were an escort at Liaison?" I ask, getting straight to the point.

  "If by escort you mean was I paid to provide sexual services, then yes." She utters the word sexual like a caress, and I'm sure Jodi’s cough was really a muffled laugh.

  "So, you’re a paid sex worker?" I ask bluntly.

  "Yes, I am; well was."

  "Can you tell me us how you met Senator Wade and what your relationship with him was?"

  "The senator and I had a different view of our relationship. I thought we had some regard for each other; well that he had some regard for me, but I wrong," she says, sounding bitter, her smile momentarily gone.