“It was knee jerk reaction, sir. But thanks anyway. I’m stuck at the Central Café because of the crowds in front of the office.”
“We tried to make the press leave, but to no avail.”
“I doubt I can even get through them.”
“Let me call a company we use on occasion. I’ll have somebody there within thirty minutes.”
Huh? Did he mean security?
Paul disconnected and sipped his coffee. And thought about making love with Hayley. He adored her spontaneity and creativity. She was, simply put, a goddess, as he’d called her on the boat that first night.
Matka would love her.
Again, thoughts of his mother shamed him. He’d texted her—for the first time in eighteen years—that he was fine. Nothing more. But since her contact, he longed to see her.
Two men entered the coffee shop. Both big, both dressed in suits. They surveyed the room then strode to him. “Mr. Covington. We’re here to take you to work.”
“Who are you?”
“Patterson and Drake. Body men.”
“Ah, well, I’m ready.”
The mob hadn’t lessened any when they got to the building and when the reporters saw him, they erupted with questions shouted at him. Patterson went first, Drake in back of him. “Excuse us,” Patterson said, weaving through the crowd.
Drake told him, “Stick close.”
“Whatever you say.”
Amidst noise loud enough to hurt his eardrums and microphones sticking in his face, they ploughed through the mass news anchors and camera crews. Once inside, the heavy glass door blocked out the cacophony the press had created, and the two men continued up the elevator with Paul. When they reached the offices, Drake opened the door for him. “We’ll be here all day, Mr. Covington, if you need us again.”
“Thank you very much. I appreciate your efforts.”
The other lawyers and staff had come out of their offices or cubicles, and waited to see him. They clapped when he appeared. Edward approached him. “Come on into the conference room, Paul.” They walked down the corridor side-by-side.
The twenty senior and associate partners gathered around a large, oval table. Many slapped him on the back, murmured complimentary words to him, and then they all sat.
Edward began. “The reason I called us all together is to offer our thanks to you, Paul, but also to discuss how to handle things from here on out.”
“Here on out? In what way?”
“Mostly, what cases you’ll be assigned.”
“I like what I’m doing now.”
Shelby Cromwell, a fifty-year-old woman, married with kids, who had recruited Paul, leaned forward. “I’m thinking we should give you more high-profile clients.”
Something set off his radar. “High-profile in what respect?” The firm defended mostly people accused of white-collar crime.
Edward slid a stack of folders to him. “Look these over. See what appeals to you.”
Paul opened the first file. Health care fraud. Hmm, now that interested him. Two Tribeca doctors were accused of requiring surgery for patients who came to them in order to receive steroid injections. Which was charged to insurance. Then they were allowed to get the injections. But also, the doctors gave them prescriptions for high doses of opioids, also very costly.
“I’ve been wanting to get into these cases. In California, I won several class actions suits against doctors who acted similarly.”
All three major partners exchanged frowns.
“Paul,” Shelby said softly. “We’re representing the doctors.”
Ah, he got it.
He scowled. “I’m not sure I’m the right person for this.”
“I think you are, Paul.” Now Shelby seemed more insistent. “Check the rest of them.”
He leafed through the other files. Money-laundering, conspiracy to commit wire fraud, a case of a laboratory fraud by a company who did blood-testing for sexually transmitted diseases.
“Hmm. I’ll have to think about taking these kinds of cases.”
“Why?” John Cramer asked.
“Because I’ve pretty much been on the other side of all of them.”
Shelby straightened her spine, an action he’d come to know meant she was determined to get her way. “Which is exactly why we hired you, Paul. I thought I’d made that clear.”
She hadn’t. Now he had a decision to make.
* * *
Hayley was late getting to work, and the place was already busy. Phones rang and the low rumble of voices carried through the space. Holding a couple of files, Maria Blackburn came out of her office and caught sight of her. “Hayley.” Maria walked right over. Took Hayley’s hand. “I got a call from DA Velasquez. He said you were at the gala Friday night.” People around her hushed at the news of her attendance at the gathering. “Are you all right?”
“Thanks for your concern. But I’m fine. Finn and I were seated at a table when the gunman fired at the ceiling.”
Others gathered around.
A friend of hers, Lola, asked, “You poor thing. Were you terrified.?”
“I was. We scrambled to the floor and I held on to Finn’s hand so hard, his fingers hurt for an hour afterward.”
A secretary shook her head. “I heard some of the wait staff got trampled as others tried to leave when the attacker was disarmed.”
“I heard that, too. I think it’s awful.”
Another ADA asked, “So, Paul Covington was the hero of the night?”
“Yeah. I didn’t see it happen, though.” Except in my imagination until he got to my house.
“Boy,” the man continued, “We’ve disliked him so long, we’ll have to adjust our thinking on anyone who could do that.”
Tactfully, Hayley didn’t comment.
“Was he in the military?” Maria asked.
“I don’t know.” Now that was true. She’d have to ask.
Maria glanced around to see work had stopped. “I’m going to break this up, now. I know you’re all concerned about Hayley and I hope hearing her talk allayed your fears.” To her, Maria said, “Come inside.”
They walked into her office and she closed the door. They took seats behind and in front of her desk. She asked, “Are you sure you’re all right? Not putting up a front for the rest of us?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“You can take some time off if you want.”
“No, I don’t need to.” She needed to work.
“So, your nemesis saved the day? He’s a hero.”
“He
