The Gray Zone (21 page)

Jake watched them disappear into her mouth, thinking,
She could be the female version of me.
“I’ve thought about that a lot,” he said, “especially lately, with everything that’s happened.” They paused to let their mutual guilt and grief over Porter register. Jake drew a series of parallel lines on his place mat with his knife. Then he tapped the point on his thumb and responded, “I’m a storyteller. The criminal is my antihero, and the jury is my audience. That’s what I’ve come up with after twenty years.”

Kelly looked away.
What a showman
, she thought. It must be intoxicating to outsmart the prosecution. A lawyer with a conscience who isn’t afraid to look under rocks to discover someone’s real motivation.

She thought of Gillis and his lawyers, who used to make fun of the justice system—especially the judges who went by the book and hardly ever used their own “judgment” to set precedent in the law. Gillis called them all whores: “Anyone who is dependent on a public election is a whore, whether it’s a judge or a politician. By virtue of depending on contributions, they are bound to sell out.” Her own
opinion of lawyers had been formed at a young age, bolstered by year after year of the justice system failing her, not believing what she said simply because she was a child. Was it possible Jake was an exception?

She looked up at him. “But it’s not a story. You’re dealing with people’s lives.”

“I don’t get attached. Believe me, my clients don’t want to be my pals either. Once the case is over, even when the outcome is good, the client never looks back. I’m a reminder of bad times.”

“So you do what you’ve got to do.”

“Basically.”

“Why me, then?”

Jake put the knife down. “I have a hunch that you can help me. As you put it, you’re a means to an end.”

A means to an end?
Kelly drained her coffee. It was the last sip—gritty and cold. She stared at him over the lip of her cup.

“I need to know the truth about Porter’s murder,” said Jake. “You’re the only one who can help me there.”

Kelly eyed him suspiciously.

Jake felt his heart say,
Take her hand and tell her it really will be okay.
Instead, he leaned back and crossed his arms. His voice came out sterner than he intended. “When I cross legal paths with a suspect, I always say, ‘If you are going to run, now is the time. Otherwise, I’ll hold your hand through hell—and it
will
be hell.’”

“Jake.” Kelly’s voice broke, and she sighed impatiently before starting again. “I can’t go to jail. My kids … I’m all they’ve got.”

“Come on, Kelly, you’ve known the risks all along—”

“Yes, but there was no other choice, with Gillis out there. I need him behind bars. This case, handled well, will make him the target. Once the floodgates open, lots of people may talk, even if he put the fear of death in them … Tell me if I’m going to end up doing time. If there’s even a remote chance … I’ll take my kids and run.”

Jake knew what it was like to be cornered. But he also knew when to press his advantage. “Last night you said you were going to do this your way. Now are you ready to do it my way?”

Kelly’s eyes bored into his. She had no room to negotiate anymore. She wadded up her napkin and nodded. At once she felt a rush of relief—and dread.

“Great,” Jake blurted out, relieved. “We’ll go see Law Boy, and sometime later that monkey with the badge who calls himself an FBI agent. We’ll make a deal.”

He covered her hand with his. They stayed that way for a few heartbeats. Then, without looking at him, Kelly got up to do the dishes and slid her hand away from his grasp.

DRESSED IN A GRAY-BLACK BUSINESS SUIT WITH her hair pulled back, Kelly could easily have been mistaken for a young attorney. She walked side by side with Jake down the long hall on an upper floor of the federal building in West Los Angeles. Out of habit, she took in all the faces of the people they passed. Most of them held the resigned fury she’d seen in so many government workers.

Jake stopped in front of a door. A brass plate read
BRYAN NORMAN, U.S. ATTORNEY
.

“Aka Law Boy,” he whispered, and pushed the door open.

On the drive over, he had briefed Kelly on the man she was about to meet. What struck her most about his revelations was that the U.S. attorneys’ lives revolved around climbing the ladder of position and power. “They’re all guilty of the same crime,” he said disdainfully, “the crime of ambition. They’d put their own mothers on trial and behind bars in order to get ahead.”

And yet Jake put away his disgust and exuded only charm as he greeted Norman’s receptionist. “Maggie. We meet again.”

“Always a pleasure, Mr. Brooks.”

Kelly skipped her eyes over the young woman, who would have been ridiculously easy to impersonate. Standard brown hair, blonde highlights. Scoop-neck, tight white shirt, full breasts. Black suit jacket, short black suit skirt. No accessories, no color, no patterns. Very LA. She glared up at Kelly like a rival.

“Is he ready for us?” inquired Jake.

Maggie leaned forward, her breasts pressing against her blouse, and whispered, “He’s been fussing around in there waiting for you. I’ve got to say, he doesn’t seem very happy.”

“He’s gonna be even more unhappy after we leave,” said Jake as if imparting a big secret. He winked at her, and Kelly was amused to see the receptionist’s chest rise in response.

Maggie lifted the phone to buzz Norman, but before she had a chance to announce them, he barked, “Send them in!”

Jake followed Kelly into a large, beautifully furnished office. Japanese art was displayed on the walls, including an antique kimono encased in Plexiglas.

In contrast to his elegant office, Bryan Norman was Mr. Average. Mousy hair, thin lips, smallish eyes of a nondescript color. Average height, average weight. The kind of guy no one had ever noticed—in high school, elementary school, or even kindergarten.

Kelly noticed one other thing: This “Law Boy” did not disguise his loathing for Jake, who plopped into a chair across from the desk.

“After the last time I saw you in court, I didn’t think you’d be so eager to take me on again, Norm.”

“I’m a glutton for punishment, Brooks.” Norman looked disappointed at failing to find an abbreviated form of Jake’s last name to throw back at him. “Y’see, the downside of being a U.S. attorney is
having to abide by the law—something you could stand to get reacquainted with.”

Jake looked over at Kelly and explained in a loud aside, “Some attorneys are so anal they wipe their asses with cotton balls.”

Kelly was surprised at Jake’s attempt to offend Norman. She looked over at the man.
How pissed is he?
she wondered. Two white dots had appeared on his jawbones.

“Let’s get down to the dirty business at hand, shall we?” he said.

Kelly felt the federal prosecutor sizing her up. She did not react. She simply listened to him as he continued.

“We’ve got witnesses, a security video, your disguise. Hell, we’ve got
you
.” He hesitated for emphasis. “I see no reason to make any deals, but you
are
gonna give me some information.”

Jake burst out laughing. Then he spat out, “Funny. I understood communication to be the
exchange
of information.”

Norman ignored Jake and turned on Kelly.

“Either I get cooperation or the next time you see your kids, they’ll be in their twenties.”

Kelly’s eyes widened in fear. Jake caught it and jumped in for the save, slapping his palm to his ear as if to clear it.

“Did I just hear the U.S. attorney attempt to blackmail my client?” Jake pulled a mini tape recorder from his pocket, pushed
REWIND
, and played Norman’s words back to him.

Norman growled. “Give me a break with the parlor tricks. That’s inadmissible and irrelevant, and you know it.”

Jake rolled his eyes and put the small machine on Norman’s desk.

“Really? So what, in your opinion,
is
relevant here? We’re talking first offense with probability of probation at best, and this BS you’re throwing at her? It’s pure fabrication. For the purpose of manipulation.”

Norman pulled his lips together like a llama getting ready to spit. His lower jaw moved back and forth. “I’m not buying this ‘no priors’ crap, excuse my French.”

Jake feigned exasperation. “The jury will. Lemme see … a young mother, two small children, helpless. You tell me how they’re gonna deliberate.”

Norman’s façade cracked. He knew Jake could be right. But still he made an attempt to brush it off. “Take a hike, Brooks.”

Jake clapped a hand on his chest as though he’d been stabbed. “You don’t mean that, Norm. And you know why you don’t mean that? Because I’m gonna save your butt.”

Kelly almost chuckled. She could practically smell the testosterone. The childishness of their exchange would have been amusing if it wasn’t her life, and her kids, they were sparring with.

The men stared at each other, estimating the weakness in their respective positions. Norman took just a little too long to respond, a subtle acknowledgment of his marginal disadvantage.

Jake seized the moment. “She gives you the MO—how he works, where he works, et cetera—and she walks.”

He’d pushed Norman just a bit too far. The prosecutor stood. “You’re dreaming, Brooks. We’re going all the way with this one. Get out of here.” He flung his hands girlishly at the door.

Jake knew the sound of an empty threat. He leaned languidly over to Kelly. “The acoustics must be bad in here.”

I hope to God you know what you’re doing
, thought Kelly.

“Let me crank up the volume …” Jake raised his voice. “She’s a FIRST-time offender. This is the FIRST and ONLY offense that you’ve got on her as an adult. Furthermore, she’s just a PAWN, and I’m offering you a KEY to INFORMATION HEAVEN, which together with even a tiny bit of gray matter, results in a major BUST.”

Norman leaned forward on his desk to avoid the indignity of
sitting down right away. “Yeah, yeah, but a conviction in hand would be good for me right now,” he said, attempting to effect a blasé expression to match his voice.

Jake slammed his open palm on Norman’s desk, appearing to be at the end of his patience. “Here I am, trying to give you the real criminal and save the taxpayers millions of reimbursement dollars, and all you do is threaten my client, who has already been victimized and used as a pawn in a major banking fraud. Give me a break. I can forgive almost anything but stupidity.”

Norman’s face was as expressive as a cow’s.

Jake abruptly stood up and took Kelly’s arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Jake responded over his shoulder. “To see your boss. I hear he’s got some brain cells left in his head.”

They were almost at the door when Norman growled, “Get your butts back in here. I want details, names …”

Kelly turned. She looked directly into Norman’s eyes. She had the plan. It would depend on so much going her way, but she had it.

“It’s Todd Gillis,” she said softly.

“Horseshit!” Norman yelled back. “Wait, what did you say?”

Son of a bitch, fuck … What the hell is she doing?
thought Jake. She’s throwing out the carrot in full Technicolor. He had told her that in the gray zone you don’t reveal anything. It’s all about knowing when to hold them, when to fold them, and when to play your ace. He’d thought she understood: Think of something they’ll want to cover up. Threaten them with the media—that’s always effective.
Was she even listening to me?
he thought.

Aloud, he said, “My friends down at the
Times
might be very interested to know that the people’s representative is refusing to save their money. My client doesn’t need to risk her kids’ lives by snitching for you. In fact, she doesn’t have to help you with any information.
She’s offering to be on your team and to cooperate. I have no doubt that the judge is going to look very favorably at her actions.”

Norman paused just long enough that Jake thought he’d overshot again. He looked at Kelly. “Gillis is the fish?”

Kelly looked deferentially down at her hands and nodded. Norman’s brown eyes blinked and he sat down. “Okay. If you’re saying you can deliver Gillis, you’ve got a deal. But you’d better fucking give him to me on a silver platter.”

* * *

As they left the federal building, Jake felt as though he was invisible. Kelly moved without looking back. Her steps were light and lazy. She didn’t say a single word.

What the fuck’s with her?
Jake asked himself. She was shutting him out.

Kelly stepped into his car without thanking him for holding the door open. She was staring at something in midair. Her eyes never moved when he slammed the car into gear and drove off.

Jake laid into her for going against his plan, but crowed that her change of tactic had worked.

Kelly said nothing.

When they reached his office, she still wasn’t talking. When Jake finally asked her what was going on, she just shook her head and asked for the key to the restroom reserved for his clients.

Jake waited in his office, excited to get started. He wanted to nail Gillis, too, and now he knew they could do it.

Fifteen minutes went by. Finally, he asked Joyce to check the restroom. Kelly wasn’t there. She had disappeared without a trace.

THE NEXT DAY, THROUGH THE OPEN BLINDS IN his office, Jake stared at the office workers streaming over the pedestrian bridge to the Century City mall. Kelly had been missing for almost twenty-four hours.
Where is she?
He’d called Jeanette Pantelli, but Kelly hadn’t arrived to check on her kids. Or at least, no one who fit the description of Kelly Jensen/Kelly Gillis/Natalie St. Clair had been in the vicinity. God only knew what Kelly could disguise herself as if she really wanted to sneak up to Tahoe, undetected, to see them. She was like water: She could take any form that suited her. And, like water, she was soft and silent, yet deadly if need be.

Jake was furious—with her, with himself. Once more the events of yesterday, after he’d discovered Kelly was missing, played out in his mind. He felt his pulse quickening now, just as it had when he’d raced to his apartment to see if she’d gone there. He had entered the guest room without knocking. It didn’t matter; she wasn’t there. She
had left her duffel bag in the closet. Jake didn’t even hesitate. He dove into the bag as if it contained the secrets of the universe.