“Have it your way. Somebody shot up my car and ransacked my house last night. I’m starting to take this personally. You owe it to me to tell me what in the hell is going on!”
Scott didn’t answer. He shook the water from his face, wiped his bloodshot eyes, and pulled his goggles down, pushing off and clawing at the water as he kicked away from Mason.
Leaving the club, Mason grabbed a sandwich at the food court in another downtown office tower. He suppressed his fear of a repeat of last night’s drive-by shooting with the myth that there was safety in a crowd. He didn’t think Camaya would risk a shootout between McDonald’s and Panda Express.
He kept a watch for people shooting at him from speeding cars while he walked to the county courthouse. He checked the court file on O’Malley’s case to see if anything new had been filed. Nothing. It was the same story at the federal courthouse with St. John’s lawsuit. He decided to pay another unscheduled visit to St. John.
“Mr. Mason, you’re going to have to learn to make an appointment just like everybody else,” St. John said as Mason walked past his secretary.
McNamara was in his usual spot on the couch. Mason was beginning to wonder if he slept in a kennel at the foot of St. John’s bed every night.
“Look, Franklin, I don’t feel much like everybody else lately. I’d like some information.”
“Gee, Counselor, don’t you like getting shot at?” McNamara grinned, enjoying his keen wit.
“Can’t you housebreak this guy?” McNamara started to get up, but St. John pointed to the couch. “Good boy, Gene, that’s a good boy.”
“Mr. Mason, don’t press your luck. You may not have enough to go around, from what I understand.”
“I don’t understand any of this. Maybe you can educate me.”
“You’ve obviously aggravated the wrong person. Given your charming demeanor, I know you find that hard to believe.”
“What do you know about Jimmie Camaya?”
McNamara’s ears pricked up. Mason pictured him with his tongue out, humping St. John’s leg.
“No one’s ever been able to pin anything on him. He enjoys a rather celebrated reputation. If he’s involved, you’re in way over your head. We can give you protection if you’ll tell us what you know.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want, except that I’m dumber than dirt. Kelly Holt thinks he’s the guy who shot up my car last night.”
“If Camaya was shooting, he most assuredly wasn’t aiming at your car. My reports are that Holt returned fire. He’s not used to that.”
“Does he do floors and windows too?”
“I heard about your house. My sympathies. Such a violation. I assume that whoever did that and Camaya have the same employer. Why are you attracting all this attention?”
“I got into this mess when Scott Daniels asked me to check the firm’s exposure from Sullivan’s relationship with O’Malley. It’s been downhill since then.”
“Help us with that and maybe we can help you.”
Mason considered the implications of the offer. St. John thought Mason could help him nail O’Malley and the firm. Mason had mixed emotions on the subject. He didn’t like the idea of being a moving target. But he couldn’t get excited about putting himself in St. John’s hands.
“Thanks for your time. I’ll think it over.”
Mason tried the county courthouse again in the hopes that he might run into Kelly at the public health department. The clerk told him that he had missed her by an hour.
He started to call her when he realized his cell phone was on silent and he’d missed a message from her yelling at him for leaving without his police escort. There was also a message from Blues that he had retrieved his briefcase. He hung up and called his landline at home, checking his messages. There were three hang-ups. He couldn’t think of anyone who would call and not leave a message. Unless they just wanted to be certain he wasn’t home.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Mason decided to try his luck with Angela. He was certain that he hadn’t been restored to the office guest list, so he waited for her in the parking garage. It was a confusing maze of levels going up and down in opposite directions at the same time that even a cheese-starved rat couldn’t navigate, but it made a great hiding place.
He waited in a dark corner near Angela’s car, until she had her back to him before approaching her as she opened her car door.
“How’s the radio traffic and troop movements, Angela?”
He caught her elbows when she jumped, falling backward into him.
“Jesus Christ, Lou! You scared the shit out of me.”
He may have, but that didn’t explain why she was pressing her bottom against his crotch instead of running away.
“Sorry. I’m just trying to be more careful in my efforts to reach old age. Can I buy you a drink?”
She turned around but didn’t back up. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. You’ve got official leprosy, and it may be contagious.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve had my shots. And we made a deal. I’ll be straight with you if you’ll be straight with me.”
“Okay, get in. But I pick the bar.”
She chose a place called The Limit on downtown’s West Side. Dim lighting left him almost blind until his eyes adjusted. He was the only man in the place. The chalkboard sign at the door announced a seminar on alternative treatments for AIDS.
“Surprised, Lou?”
“I didn’t think anything could surprise me after the last few days, Angela, but you are full of surprises.”
“Because I brought you to a lesbian bar?”
“It’s not something I would have thought-or thought about. You just seem so interested in men.”
“I am. Exclusively. I come here when I don’t want to be bothered by men. These women understand that and respect my privacy. Besides, there’s not much chance of running into Scott here, is there?”
They both laughed, breaking the tension. A waitress took their drink orders, beer for Mason, a martini for Angela.
“What’s happening at the office?”
“All hell broke loose after you and Sandra left. Scott and St. John had a real pissing match.”
“We ran into St. John on our way out. He had a court order freezing the firm’s assets.”
“That’s what was so funny. The two of them were fighting over whether the federal court order freezing the firm’s assets trumped the state court order appointing a receiver to run the firm.”
Mason smiled at the image. “Who won?”
Angela giggled. “I did. I told Scott we were screwed either way.”
“You have the wisdom of Solomon.”
“And very big ears. After St. John left, Vic Jr. showed up again. He and Scott had their own screamer in the conference room.”
A waitress brought their drinks. Mason sipped. Angela finished hers in two gulps.
“What was that one about?”
“I only caught bits and pieces, but it was mostly about the fees we charged his father for work we didn’t do. In the meantime, half the staff has quit and the clients are panicked. Scott hired the security guard to keep out the press.”
“And me.”
Mason signaled the waitress to bring Angela another round. Several women waved at Angela from across the bar. She caught their eyes and waved back, all smiles. The waitress set another martini on the table and wiped up the water ring left by the empty glass.
“Angela, I need some answers.”
