Cramer stood. “The argument the prosecutor makes is ludicrous. You confiscated his passport at the charging hearing, Judge. He can’t go anywhere.”
“Ms. Casella?” Branson again.
“We all know that people of means have ways of escaping the country illegally. Since he’s already committed one crime, why not another?”
“I’d object if this was a trial.” Cramer’s tone was condescending. “Perhaps Ms. Casella is too new to the game to know she’d be putting half of Manhattan’s alleged criminals in jail.”
Hayley went in for the kill. “Only when they ripped off senior citizens.”
Cramer’s face blanked. Apparently, he hadn’t done his research. “My client isn’t even accused of that.”
“It’s recently come to our attention that one of those clients…” She looked down as if she didn’t know the name “…was Mary Anderson. When I investigated her circumstances, I discovered she resided in an independent living community and has been managing the money of twenty residents.” She glanced at Cramer. “You should know that, Mr. Cramer. It was easy to find. Perhaps your somewhat older eyes missed that.”
She saw Judge Branson roll her lips inward. To keep from laughing. Hayley didn’t expect to get no bail, but she’d ask for an exorbitant amount and an ankle bracelet.
At end of the arraignment, she got both. A great day for the good guys.
* * *
Paul got back to the office around five, wound up tight after a long day of charges and bail hearings. His shoulders were heavy and his stride slow. What he needed was a massage. The low rumble of voices from the first year’s cubicles drifted over to him as he made his way down a corridor.
Paul had heard Hayley did indeed beat the pants off Cramer, and he made a point to walk by the man’s office.
And heard Cramer say, “Fuck it, Edward. Casella’s a cunt. No wonder Covington couldn’t handle her.”
Paul halted quickly. The use of the epithet offended him on an ordinary day. To hear it applied to Hayley made him see red. Despite the presumptuousness of what he was about to do, he crossed to the entrance of the junior partner’s office. “Did I hear my name invoked?”
Edward sighed. “Come in, Paul. Apparently, John’s having problems with ADA Casella.”
“I’m offended by the crass language you used to describe her, John.”
Cramer bolted out of his chair and circled his desk. His eyes were flaming “Now wait just a minute. I’m a partner in this firm. I can use whatever language I want on the premises. You’re fired, Covington. Pack up your things.”
The outer room went silent.
“You can’t fire me. It’s in my contract with the firm that only Mr. Cook can do that.”
“Is that true, Edward?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I had my reasons.”
Cramer banged his fist on the desk’s surface. “This is outrageous! I want a meeting called with you, me and Shelby to discuss this.”
Edward straightened his shoulders and stepped closer to Cramer. “For the record, John, I don’t ever want to hear that kind of language on these premises again. It offends me, too.”
“I—”
“And Paul, you need to change your tone. The title John holds commands respect. Now, you can leave us alone.”
Cramer’s mouth dropped. “That’s all you’re going to do to him?”
“It is. Paul?”
Though he didn’t want to, Paul resisted the urge to continue and walked away from the door. Halfway to his own office, he calmed enough to wonder what the hell was he thinking to challenge a partner like that?
He was afraid he knew the answer. Damn it, Hayley Casella was still turning him into a maniac. He had to get her out of his head.
* * *
Hayley sat at a desk in the corner of the living room, sorting through the mail. Finn’s plane was late and she was anxious to see him. The modern grandfather clock ticked in the hallway, and the fridge turned on. Otherwise, the house was still.
The assortment of letters, manilla envelopes, flyers and a couple of pieces which were labeled, Invitation, were among the stuff Finn received. She made a separate pile for him and drew the rest closer. She was halfway through reading her own mail when she heard the key in the door.
Standing, she rushed to the foyer. “Finn!” She threw herself at him. He let go of the handle of his suitcase and hugged her. “This is quite a welcome.”
Stepping back, she said, “I missed you.”
His face was lined, his clothes wrinkled and his hair messy.
He tipped her chin. “Something’s wrong.”
“Not wrong.” She shrugged. “But bothering me. I’ll fill you in later. I got dinner from Luigi’s and it’s warming in the oven. Would you like to eat, or get settled?”
“Neither. I need a drink. Before we even left LA, the plane was delayed on the runway for two hours to have some maintenance done.”
“Go sit. I’ll fix us both something.”
Leaving his things in the foyer, Finn walked into the living room behind her. Hayley went to the sideboard and he made himself comfortable on one of the teal leather couches she’d bought when they redid the interior.
“Wine or hard stuff?”
“Hard stuff.”
At a bar in the corner, she poured them both some Irish whiskey with a cube of ice. Then she dropped next to her brother on the couch. “So, how was the bookfair?”
“Interesting. On the advice of my manager, I bought quite a few rare books for the shop. A couple of first edition novels, some signed ones that came out later and even a children’s book.”
“Sounds great.” Sipping her drink, she stared at him over the rim. “Did you see your favorite author?”
His eyes were amused. “I did.”
“How is she?”
“Still married. But we…got together.”
Hayley made sure she never criticized Finn for his life choices. All of that was his business. He returned the favor. “Is she coming to New York?”
“Not until the spring. But I booked some others for events in the fall.”
His shop, as he called it, was one of
