“So you can use all that stuff about Kostas at trial, right?” Hailey asked.
“Well, I’m working on it. But even if we somehow implicate Kostas, it doesn’t necessarily clear Marisa. We need more, if we can find it.”
She nodded pensively. “Makes sense, I suppose.” She slung her knitted sweater on the back of her chair.
“And, Hailey, some problems with our computers yesterday. Hit by a virus. Knocked out the system for a while. I did what I could to get back online and changed all our passwords, including yours.”
“A computer virus?” she asked.
“Yeah. Not sure how, but it was bad.”
“What kind of websites were you surfing?” she asked with an impish smile.
“Not the kind you’re thinking about. I was researching Benton Dynamics for Marisa’s case and everything froze up. After shutting down and rebooting a few times, I managed to get back on. Ran a full antivirus scan and changed the passwords. Here’s your new one.”
I handed her a thin slip of yellow paper torn off a legal pad.
Hailey adjusted her tortoise-shell glasses as she read it. Her facial expression grew quizzical. She set the paper next to her keyboard. “I’ll never remember all that. Okay if I pick my own?”
“Yeah, sure. Just don’t make it too easy. I don’t want to get hacked again and stare into a blue screen of death.”
She logged onto her computer and stuffed her handbag into a large desk drawer.
I said, “And do me a favor. Look up some computer companies that can upgrade our security. We’ve got confidential client files. This can’t happen again.”
“Okay, sure. Hackers get more sophisticated every day. Must’ve been serious.”
“Yeah, freaked me out. The sooner we upgrade, the better. See if they can come today, if possible, and let me know some cost estimates when I’m done with Marisa.”
Hailey’s office calendar appeared as her home page. “She should be here soon.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Nine o’clock. I’ll be in my office. Buzz me when she arrives.”
“You got it.”
Back at my desk, I flipped through Marisa’s file, but quickly set it aside. Thoughts of Jennifer Rybak on the boat and later kissing me on the docks haunted my memory. Beautiful women have a way of getting in my head and distracting me at all the wrong times, but there was not much I could do about that. I logged onto my computer with my new password and found Jennifer on social media. I pinged her with a friend request and short message to say “hi.” Feeling like an awkward teenager, I closed my browser, swiveled my chair, and stared out the back window.
Sunlight glowed off the Chesapeake Bay. During the storm yesterday, the churning surf could have swallowed the boat and dragged Jennifer and me to the murky bottom. This morning, brown pelicans glided over the smooth water. The pelicans would not have even detected a trace of a wreck beneath them, had we failed to get back to the harbor. The bay was again calm and still, as if the storm had never happened.
I leaned forward and tapped my pen on the desk blotter like a snare drum. Marisa Dupree could have been an innocent victim in this lawsuit, an accomplice of Richard Kostas, or his killer. There was no way to tell. The next few hours with her would prove interesting.
Marisa arrived five minutes before nine o’clock. Hailey let me know that she was waiting in the conference room.
Marisa stood up as I entered the room, and I shook her hand. A turquoise handkerchief decorated the jacket pocket of her beige pantsuit. A simple gold necklace dangled atop the frills of her white blouse. With an elegant trace of make-up, she seemed ready for a formal business meeting, even though this was just an office consultation.
“Good morning, Marisa,” I said, relaxing my grip. “Are you ready to prepare for the hearing?”
“Guess so. Not sure what to expect.”
“Fair enough. We’ll go over everything. Any questions before we begin?”
“Well, yeah,” she replied. “Like a million, but let’s just get to it.”
“Have a seat. Before we start, I have to tell you something. There’s been some interest in your case. A journalist contacted me and wants to interview you. I’m not in favor of that.”
“Are you for real? A journalist?”
“No one’s been in touch with you, right?”
“Yeah, nobody,” she said. “I’m not going to speak with any journalists.”
“Good.” I pulled back a chair and sat down at the conference table. “And I hate to tell you, but the Chester County Sheriff also dropped by my office. Wants to discuss Richard Kostas with you. She’s investigating his death and sought me out as your attorney. You haven’t been home. Otherwise, she might’ve shown up at your door.”
Marisa’s facial expression changed from curiosity to concern.
I flipped open her file and continued, “My normal reaction to law enforcement is to be cooperative, especially if my client has nothing to hide. But I can’t recommend you talk with the sheriff, at least not yet, okay?”
“Why not?” she asked. “If it’s about Richard …”
“Well, you’re the client, Marisa. Ultimately, it’s your call. But I say hold off until after the hearing. You can speak with her when she offers you some kind of immunity.”
“Immunity? From what?”
“Benton Dynamics is coming after you. Your former employer claims you stole confidential files. If you speak with the sheriff, she’ll ask all kinds of questions, not just about Richard’s death. Questions about your case. Who knows where that’ll lead?”
“All right, I suppose,” she said with slow uncertainty. “I’ll take your advice and not talk with anyone … except you. None of this makes any sense. Just please get me out of this, Mr. Seagraves.”
“I’ll do my best. Now onto trial prep. That’s where lawsuits are won or lost.”
She shifted nervously in the conference room chair and placed both hands on the armrests.
I jotted the date at the top of my legal pad. “Let’s break down what we’re going to discuss today. First, I’ll explain the legal procedures at the
