Spin Control. Kate DonovanЧитать онлайн книгу.
Chapter 2
They took separate cars to the Hotel Charlton, giving Suzannah a chance to adjust to what had happened. It was obvious that Judge Taylor saw this as an opportunity to punish her for getting his ruling reversed on appeal. If she made any further attempts to resist, he might even hold her in contempt. She had to be very careful, not just for her own sake but for Justin’s.
She knew why the FBI agent had chosen her. He thought she was a great criminal-law attorney because of her success in the Driscoll case. Poor guy—not only was he wrong about that but he simply didn’t understand how much Taylor hated her or how much all that resentment would work against him now, too.
Like it or not, their best strategy for the short run was to cooperate completely with the judge. Hopefully Suzannah’s role in the case wouldn’t be too taxing. She really had only two responsibilities: the first, to make sure the defendant didn’t skip town, which made her a glorified babysitter; and the second, to make sure the government defense attorneys didn’t sell Justin down the river to protect the FBI’s reputation.
She could do both of those things while also working on her Hawaii presentation. The government lawyers could handle the big defense issues, do the footwork and keep her informed so that she could make the final strategy decisions.
It didn’t sound so bad, assuming Justin cooperated. And assuming he was innocent. Not that it really mattered, because if he wasn’t, she was going to strangle him. So either way justice would be done.
Once she reached the hotel, she found a seat in the coffee bar adjacent to the lobby, rejecting any thought of going to his room to check on his progress. There was a slight risk that her new client might ditch her and dash for the border, but in the long run, that would be a good thing, wouldn’t it? In any case, she wasn’t ready to be alone with a suspected murderer who had a reputation as a charmer. Better to stick to public places for the moment.
Keeping one eye on the elevator, she ordered a mocha, then checked her office voice mail to see if any messages had come in. Then she sent some brief e-mails to her colleagues, just in case they heard rumors about what had happened with the Jailor. And finally she attacked the job of reorganizing her obsolete calendar and task list.
Forty things to do in two short weeks, all of them trumped by a murder case. Ugh!
Justin finally appeared, ambling toward her in tan slacks and a sexy black polo shirt. And she had to sigh, right out loud. He had looked so good just two short two hours ago, with his shaggy hair, sexy smile, golden tan and great body. Now he just looked like a pain in the ass.
“That was fast,” she told him, tucking her PDA into her purse.
His tone was warm as he settled into the seat across from her. “I know you’re mad, but—”
She held up her hand to stop him. “I’ve adjusted, actually. Let’s just get started, shall we?”
“Great.” He motioned to a nearby waitress, who almost tripped over two other customers getting to him right away, then breathlessly introduced herself as Janet.
Gracing her with one of his sexiest smiles, he ordered a latte with an extra shot, plus a refill for Suzannah.
“Should we get something to eat, too?” he asked his new attorney. “It’s almost lunchtime.”
She hesitated but then remembered her policy of making him pay through the nose for ruining her vacation, so she nodded. “The quiche looks good. And a small salad?”
Justin nodded, then told the waitress, “I’ll have grilled cheese if you’ve got it.”
“It’s not on the menu, but I’m sure I can talk the cook into it.”
“That would be great, Janet. Thanks.”
Suzannah watched the woman hurry off on her mission. “I guess you get a lot of that?”
“Pardon?”
“Females falling all over themselves to do your bidding?”
“She’s just trying to do a good job. Anyway…” He exhaled sharply. “I know I screwed up your morning, to put it mildly. And I realize criminal law isn’t your specialty, even though you kicked some serious judicial ass on that appeal. So I just want you to know you’re off the hook as of now.”
“Pardon?”
“You earned your fee by getting me released on bail. That was my big concern this morning. Now I can take it from here. After tomorrow’s court appearance, you can just do whatever you were already planning to do this week.”
When Suzannah glared, he laughed and said, “I know, I know. The judge wants me to brief you, and I will. But take my word for it—this thing will never go to trial. I’ll conclude my investigation and find the real perp long before that happens. I promise you that.”
“Oh, you promise? Well, that’s a relief.” She glared again. “I’m the attorney of record in a murder case. I take that very seriously. I take everything very seriously—a fact you’d better start respecting. I’ve spent ten years building a sterling reputation and I don’t want this case to torpedo it.”
“I told you, it’ll never go to trial.”
“Because you’ll solve it first? No offense, but I’d rather not count on you. Especially considering you’re an accused murderer.”
He leaned back in his chair and studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Fair enough. So how do you want to approach this? I can give you details or just the big picture.”
“Let’s start with the punch line. Who is it you’re supposed to have killed?”
“A woman named Gia Masterson. She was a witness in a case I’ve been investigating.”
“Gia Masterson?” Suzannah bit her lip. “In that case, I already have the big picture. From reading the newspapers. Not that I’ve kept up with it faithfully, but she was shot a couple of weeks ago, right? And a few weeks before that, she inherited a huge fortune from her father when he was murdered by the Angel of Mercy serial killer.”
When Justin nodded, Suzannah rubbed her eyes, acutely aware of the ache forming behind them.
The Angel of Mercy, as the papers had dubbed him, had been in the headlines for a couple of months. He apparently thought he was receiving psychic signals from vegetative patients who were begging him to free them so that they could go to heaven. Unable to resist, he had finally begun infiltrating nursing homes, using his position and training as a licensed vocational nurse to put the patients out of their misery once and for all.
Rallying herself, Suzannah asked carefully, “Any chance the Angel of Mercy killed Gia, as well? I mean, I know he usually goes after people in comas, but…”
Justin shook his head. “I’m not even sure the Angel of Mercy killed the father, much less the daughter.”
“Ooh, that’s new. The papers made it sound like a slam dunk.”
He nodded. “We tried to keep it quiet while we investigated. Horace Masterson was the fourth in a series of patients supposedly killed by the Angel—by lethal injection—in nursing homes. But given Masterson’s enormous wealth and the fact that his company handles top-secret government research, the possibility of a copycat killing with financial or political motives couldn’t be discounted.”
“Hmm…And since Gia inherited her father’s money, she was a suspect in his murder, even though the Angel of Mercy was the prime suspect?”
Justin hesitated. “Putting aside the whole mercy-killing angle, the Masterson case is pretty complicated. For one thing, Gia could have pulled the plug on her father any time she wanted. He’s been brain-dead and completely dependent on life support for more than three years because of a massive stroke and a slew of complications. Gia had a durable power of attorney over his health decisions. But