at trial. Last night, Anne got food poisoning at dinner with the client, and I’m putting on a slew of witnesses.”
Gulp. “Poor Anne.” Mary had to stall until she could think of a reason not to help. Or maybe the office would catch fire. “Where did you eat?”
“Muggy’s, on Walnut Street.”
“What did Anne eat?”
Bennie blinked. “Something that made her sick.”
“No, I meant, what was it she ate that made her sick?”
“Does it matter?”
“It would, if I were taking a client to Muggy’s.”
“Are you?” Bennie asked.
“Hell, no. Not anymore.” HELP!
Judy cleared her throat. “I can give you a hand, Bennie. I’ve got the whole day. You won’t need Mary if you have me.”
“No, I need you both.” Bennie turned to Judy. “Carrier, you’ll sit second-chair, in court. There’s about three hundred documents in this case, so I need the assist.” She turned back to Mary. “DiNunzio, I need you to prep witnesses for me. I’m starting our case in chief today. Can you free up?”
Mary froze.
“I know you’re busy, but it’s an emergency. All hands on deck.”
“I can’t do it,” Mary blurted out.
“Why not?”
“I have a meeting out of the office,” Mary answered, shakily, and in the background, even Judy started frowning.
“What kind of meeting?” Bennie asked.
“A meeting about a case.” Mary felt panic rising. She wished she had a Starbucks venti. She felt pretty sure she could lie better if she were sucking down a Starbucks. She would use her Starbucks for good, and not evil.
“What case?” Bennie asked, impatient. “And why do I have to take your deposition to find out?”
“You don’t,” Mary answered, though it wasn’t funny anymore. She didn’t have to lie. She wasn’t going to lie. She had a good reason to be doing what she was doing, and that was that. She straightened up. “I can’t help you today. I’m sorry. I have something important to do, and I have to get going.”
“But there’s work to be done here.”
“I have work, too, and I can’t drop it. It’s about Trish. She’s still missing, and I’m going to help find her.”
In the background, Judy’s eyes flared, and Bennie’s eyes narrowed.
“So it’s not a case. Weren’t you the one telling me you were so inundated with work? Now you can take a day off?”
“I know, I am inundated. But I can’t turn my back on this girl.”
“Your clients are firing you. Is this why?”
Mary felt stricken, wondering how she’d found out.
“I know what goes on here, DiNunzio. It’s my firm.”
“They’re firing me because they think I turned my back on Trish.”
“And you’re doing this for them?”
“No.” Mary shook her head. “I’m doing it for me.”
“Either way, it’s unprofessional and dangerous. Mancuso was in the Mob.”
“I’ll be careful.” Mary reached for her bag. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“Don’t go. Your place is here.”
“I have to.”
“Are you walking out on me?” Bennie looked as angry as Mary had ever seen her.
“I have to go, Bennie.”
“But I forbid it.”
“I’m sorry.” Mary locked eyes with Bennie, in an interoffice version of the age-old struggle between parent and child. “I have no choice.”
“You always have a choice.” Bennie stiffened. “If you go now, then don’t come back.”
No. Mary felt stricken.
Judy yelped, “Bennie, really? She’s just doing what she thinks is-”
“Enough.” Bennie raised a hand, never taking her eyes from Mary. “DiNunzio, you’re either an associate here or you’re not. If you are, you’ll stay. If you’re not, you’ll go. For good.”
Mary didn’t know what to say. She felt her chest tighten but she couldn’t speak. She didn’t want to cry. She had worked for Bennie for as long as she could remember, but she couldn’t turn her back on Trish, not again. She looked from Bennie to Judy and back again, then decided. She slipped her bag on her shoulder, turned, and left the office without another word.
“Mary!” Judy called after her.
But she didn’t look back. She hurried down the hall, her eyes filling with tears.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
M ary grabbed the stiff hand strap as the Yellow cab lurched down Market Street and around City Hall in stop-and-go traffic. She had to pick up her car from the impoundment lot; she’d need it for her next move. The morning rush hour was coming on, and the sky was clouding up, as if heaven and earth were on nasty parallel tracks. Mary tried not to take it as a bad sign. Or maybe you saw bad signs everywhere after you’d walked out on your life.
“Reg?” she said into the cell phone, having finally reached Brinkley. “First, I want to explain about last night, about me and Bobby Mancuso.”
“No need.”
“I dated him in high school, and that’s it. I would’ve mentioned it to you but didn’t get the chance, and it’s kind of personal. It really didn’t-”
“No matter, thanks for the tip,” Brinkley said coldly, so Mary moved to her next point.
“Anything new on Trish?”
“No.”
Mary could’ve guessed as much. She’d been checking online like a fiend. “I assume Ritchie and his father didn’t tell you anything last night.”
“Can’t go into that. By the way, I hear you talked to the feds.”
“I thought it would help the cause. I hope that was okay.”
“Sure,” Brinkley said, but Mary wasn’t convinced.
“Did you learn anything from Mancuso’s autopsy?”
“I can’t discuss that with you.”
“I swear, Reg, the more I know, the more I can help.”
“Don’t help. Sorry. Listen, I gotta go.”
“But what about Trish?”
“Mary, we’ll follow up.” Brinkley’s tone softened a little. “We’ll do our job. Go back to work. Make like a lawyer.”
Gulp. Mary pushed those thoughts away. “Just tell me, what did the trace evidence show? I would assume there’d be dirt on his shoes, threads on his clothes, stuff that would show where he’d been and where the house could be-”
“That’s for us, Mary.”
“The feds know who Cadillac is, but they wouldn’t tell me.”
“Please, God in heaven, don’t go anywhere near the Mob.” Suddenly Brinkley sounded like himself again, her pal of old. “If anything happens to you, your mother will never forgive me.”
