Legal Heat (20 page)

“Who else knows?”

Trixie grimaced. “I might have mentioned it to James, and he might have organized a patrol car to check your place periodically at night.”

“Trixie!”

She shrugged. “I’m not bound by any confidentiality rules, and it was just a guess. But a good one. Jimmy’s a bad customer. I just wanted you to be safe.”

“That’s what Mark said.” Katy glanced over at the red-haired woman. She was eating now so obviously not waiting for anyone. Or maybe someone had stood her up. Was she a writer or a reporter? Maybe in Vancouver on business? She looked up and Katy quickly turned away.

Trixie reached across the table and grabbed Katy’s hand. “He means it.”

“I believe you, but it can’t work between us and not just because of the legal conflict I told you about. I’ve only started getting back on my feet. I don’t want someone interfering in my life and messing things up. I don’t want another Steven.”

“He doesn’t want another Claire,” Trixie murmured.

“Who’s Claire?”

Trixie’s eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”

“Tell me,” Katy demanded. “Does he have a girlfriend? A wife? I never thought to ask. It’s been so long since I…”

“Dated?” Trixie offered.

The red-haired woman looked over and arched an eyebrow with obvious interest.

“We’re not dating. We can’t be dating. We’ve never had a date and never will.”

Unabashed, Trixie smiled. “Stop beating yourself up. Claire was in the distant past. So the answer is no, he doesn’t have anyone. But he needs someone. You.”

Katy slumped in her seat. “Not me. He made that clear today.”

The red-haired woman waved down the waiter and asked him for the bill. Katy caught him on his way to the cash register and asked for their bill as well. She had to pay time and a half for her babysitter’s overtime and if she wasn’t careful now, she’d be in trouble when trial season was in full swing.

They collected their coats and headed outside to hail a taxi. Trixie leaned against a lamp post and chewed on a long red nail. “Was your solution to the professional conflict working before last Saturday?”

Katy shrugged. “You mean stopping myself from jumping all over him whenever he walked into a room? I suppose it worked until I drank too much tequila.” She shivered, remembering their risky behavior on the terrace. “There’s no way to resolve the conflict unless one of us drops the case. He offered to do it and then changed his mind. I can’t make the same offer.”

Trixie gave her a wicked grin. “Maybe he needs more of an incentive.”

“Trixie!” Katy laughed. “This isn’t high school. I’m not chasing after him, and I’m not going to interfere with his legal practice. It didn’t work out. I’m okay with that. Sometimes life gets in the way.” She had always thought herself a good liar but Trixie’s snort of disbelief said otherwise.

“When are you seeing him next?”

“Wednesday morning. We have a court hearing. It’s going to be one hell of a fight.”

A taxi pulled up at the curb and Trixie waved Katy toward it. “Ooooh delicious. It’s perfect.” She put her hand on the door. “Call me tomorrow. I know exactly where you need to shop.”

Katy opened her mouth to protest but Trixie cut her off.

“I know. It can’t work. But he was clearly willing to try until something changed his mind. Why not test his resolve? Besides you could really use a new suit.”

“Storm? Who wrote ‘storm’ on my whiteboard? This isn’t a weather report.”

James looked over at his team. No one liked the daily seven a.m. meetings, but the only signs of protest were the increasingly large cups of coffee scenting the air.

“I did, sir.” Mike walked up to the white board and began to draw. James took a seat beside Joanna, the newest addition to his team. She smiled and took a deep breath, her breasts rising and falling under her tight, red sweater.

But not as tight as Lana’s mouth-watering, electric-fucking-blue, barely-an-excuse-for-a-top. And that goddammed skirt. Where the hell did she get off dressing like that? Her outfit was outrageous even for a fetish club. Well, maybe not outrageous, but definitely not something to be shared around. After catching her snooping around Carpe Noctem, he had hustled her to his club office as much to get her away from the lascivious stares of the patrons as to interrogate her.

And what an interrogation. James bit back a laugh. Lana was all confidence and a whole lot of sass. He had never been sassed like that in his entire life. Usually his harsh manner cowed people into submission. Maybe she had no sense of self-preservation. She should have been running in terror instead of teasing him with her lush body and then giving him a glimpse of her soft side with her little speech about his name.

Mike finished his drawing and pointed to the pattern of small circles resembling a military plan of attack. “The pathologist now believes Garcia died of multiple organ failure caused by something called a cytokine storm. It’s an overactive response of the immune system that’s often fatal. When there is a pathogen present, the body produces cytokines that signal immune cells to travel to the site of the infection. The immune cells attack the pathogen and make more cytokines. Usually the body keeps it all in check, but sometimes the reaction becomes uncontrolled and healthy cells and tissues are attacked too. The cause isn’t clearly understood but the pathologist said it can happen if there is a new and highly pathogenic invader.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Such as?”

“A number of infectious and non-infectious diseases have been identified as causing cytokine storms. Things like SARS, smallpox, bird flu and sepsis. The pathologist has ordered tests to try and identify the cause in this case.”

“So you’re saying Garcia might have had a fatal reaction to some kind of illness?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Any luck getting his medical records?”

Mike shook his head. “No medical records. He’s never been to a doctor, at least one who keeps records.”

“What about Valerie Wood?” James frowned. They were getting nowhere fast with the evidence, and the clock was ticking.

“We don’t have the toxicology results yet, but the preliminaries suggest the same thing. The pathologist found the same evidence of multiple organ failure, but more acute.”

James raked his hand through his hair. “So where are we? Our victims share the same symptoms, so they might have caught a new disease. If that’s the case, the coroner will have to be notified. But if it is a disease, why do we have only two victims? My gut tells me we’re on the wrong track.”

“What about the baggies, sir?”

James nodded. “Two baggies, both fingerprint-linked to a known drug dealer, Jimmy Rider. Unfortunately, Mr. Rider disappeared shortly after I hauled him in for questioning. But first he managed to find time to assault his lawyer. I think we have enough to get a warrant to search Rider’s premises. I also want his picture in every police station and community police center in the city. If he’s in Vancouver, we’ll find him.”

James dismissed the team and then leaned back in his chair and sighed. They were underfunded and undermanned. Too bad he couldn’t hire an investigator to help them. A red-headed one with the sweetest ass he had ever seen. Maybe after he pulled up the pictures of her target, he would give her a call. He would need a name to attach to the pictures. After what he’d seen in the club, he doubted she would give it to him. Another interrogation might be necessary.

He could hardly wait.

“Martha?”

Katy raised her voice, hoping her client wouldn’t hear Steven and the kids fighting over the Wii. Steven had switched his double shift and now she had to endure his presence for an extra night this week. The things she did for her children.

Martha didn’t seem to mind the background noise, and Katy briefed her on the counterclaim, the document request hearing scheduled for the next day and her planned meeting with Terry Silver on Thursday. “I also heard from Martin. He’s leaving the country on Friday and has agreed to a deposition on Friday morning. I’m going to spring it on opposing counsel in the hearing tomorrow so he won’t have time to interfere. I’m pretty sure the judge will allow it.”

“I can’t believe it.” Martha said. “Martin refused to get involved before. How did you change his mind?”

“I would love to take credit for his decision, but he contacted me and made the offer. He said he’d read something in the newspaper that made him realize he could save lives by giving evidence.”

She quizzed Martha about what she expected Martin to say and took copious notes until Martha had exhausted her knowledge about Martin’s time at the company.

“I’m afraid my other news isn’t so good.” Katy sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I can’t get in touch with one of the men on the list, Andrew McIntyre. The Davidsons refuse to speak to me, and I haven’t heard back from Patricia Cunningham. If it’s okay with you, I have another meeting in Burnaby tomorrow afternoon just a few blocks away from the Cunninghams’ house and I might just stop by on my way home to see if she’ll talk to me.”

“Sounds good,” Martha said. “I really want you to get to the bottom of this. And don’t worry about the fees. Do whatever you have to do.”

Don’t worry about the fees?
She had never had a client who didn’t worry about fees.

“I’ve done some digging into the men on Martin’s list,” Katy said. “They were all employed by Cleenaway, a cleaning contractor. I called the manager, but he wouldn’t give me any details except to confirm they no longer worked for his company. Does the name ring any bells?”

“Sorry. I didn’t pay much attention to the cleaners. They always came in as I was leaving.”

Steven’s shadow loomed large in Katy’s office and she waved him away. When he didn’t leave, she got up, slammed the door in his face and returned to her desk to continue the call.

“You should be aware that opposing counsel will be present at the deposition and he’ll report the substance of the evidence to Steele. We’ll lose the advantage of surprise by bringing the evidence out now, but I don’t see we have a choice given Martin’s imminent departure.”

Steven knocked on the door. The constant
tap, tap, tap
set her nerves on edge. She pressed the phone closer to her ear. “I’ll try to work it in. Other than that, things are progressing as they should be. We expect to have a trial date for spring or summer next year.”

Martha gasped. “That’s almost a year from now. I didn’t realize I would have to wait so long.”

“We’re lucky,” Katy assured her. “Some of my clients have to wait two or three years before they get to court.”

The door burst open and Steven stormed in, fuming. Katy frowned and pointed to the phone and mouthed the word
client
. Steven didn’t take the hint. He leaned against the bookshelves and folded his arms.

Katy wrapped up the call with a few housekeeping matters and then turned to glare at the man she had once thought was the center of her world. “What the hell is wrong with you? I was on a call with a client. You know perfectly well I can’t conduct confidential business with you in the room.”

“You’re seeing someone.”

Katy froze. “What? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I bumped into Sonia Rutledge on my way in. She said you didn’t get home until two o’clock on Saturday morning.”

Katy rolled her eyes. Eighty-two year old Sonia spent her days and most of her nights collecting gossip to share at her weekly tea party. “Well there’s a good source of information,” she snapped.

“Don’t be unkind, Kate. It’s not like you. In fact, you’ve changed over the last few weeks and I don’t like it. Is it him? Your new boyfriend? Is he the reason you’re running around in the middle of the night and snapping at me when I just want to share some family time together?”

Katy toyed with the letter opener on her desk. Long, sleek and very sharp. Almost like a knife. With his formidable medical skills, would Steven be able to save himself if she stabbed him?

Get a grip, Sinclair
. She put the opener in the desk drawer and slammed it shut.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I am not seeing anyone. And if I was, you would be the last person I would ever tell.”

“Come play on the Wii with us.” He held out his hand, expecting her to take it.

“I’m in court tomorrow. I have to prepare.”

“Just one game. You never play.”

Katy didn’t like his accusatory tone nor did she like his competitive streak. Usually family games ended with Steven punching the air in victory and one of the kids crying.

“I have an idea, Steven. How about you clean the kitchen, help the kids with their homework, get their things ready for school tomorrow, do the laundry, sew Melissa’s ballet suit, make the lunches and put the kids to bed? Once that’s done and my work is finished, then I’ll play.”

Steven narrowed his eyes. “Don’t pull that crap with me. I know what you’re up to on the weekends and it isn’t work. Maybe you should stop pretending you’re eighteen and start acting like a mother again.” He stormed out of her office, slamming the door behind him.