49

ALLIE HAD BEEN IN THE DOYLE & BROWN LOBBY AT LEAST HALF A DOZEN times, but she had never before really looked at the portrait of Hamilton Doyle (whom she assumed was the firm’s founder) that hung on the wall behind the receptionist. It was a serious, almost funereal picture—an unsmiling Doyle stood in front of a dark wood bookcase filled with grim-looking legal tomes. He wore a conservative gray suit and a burgundy tie, and he was looking slightly down, so that Allie had the uncomfortable sense that he was staring at her. The only bright color in the painting was the disconcertingly vibrant blue of Doyle’s eyes, which looked a lot like Jason Tompkins’s.

Allie was nearly as buttoned down as the picture. She wore her most professional outfit (navy suit with a cream blouse), her hair was freshly styled and dyed back to its original brown, and she had applied her makeup with careful minimalism. She needed to convince Connor and Doyle & Brown to take another chance on her. That meant convincing them that she wasn’t—well, that she wasn’t really the selfish, unreliable flake that she’d been acting like. So she did everything she could to look trustworthy and responsible. She would act it too. When Connor walked up, she would rise gracefully, smile, look him in the eye, and say—

“Hello, Allie,” said Connor’s voice behind her.

She stood quickly and turned to him—or tried to anyway. She caught a quick glimpse of his face, unsmiling and cold-eyed. Then her heel caught on the carpet and she fell. Flat on her face. She landed in push-up position as the contents of her purse scattered across the lobby floor. Of course her emergency tampon flew out even though it had been tucked away in a pocket. And of course it now lay exactly in the middle of the floor.

“Are you okay?” Connor asked as he helped her up.

“Yeah, fine.” She lunged for the tampon, jammed it back into her purse and then started collecting the rest of her belongings. Her newly-styled hair now hung in her face. She tucked it behind her ears. “At least I still know how to make an entrance, huh?”

He smiled. “That you do. Sorry I startled you.”

“At least if I’d broken my neck, I wouldn’t have had trouble finding a lawyer.” She forced a laugh and he chuckled politely. “So anyway, I’d like to talk to you.”

“So I gathered. I’m actually in the middle of a meeting, but if you don’t mind waiting for a few minutes, we can talk when I’m done.”

“Sure, no problem.”

As soon as he was gone, she went to the bathroom to do repair work on her face and hair. She noticed that her knee hurt and looked down to see a rug burn framed by two massive runs in her nylons. Oh, great. She did what she could and headed back to the lobby—nearly running into a man as she walked out of the bathroom door.

“Excuse me,” she said automatically. A split second later, she recognized him. “Julian! What a surprise. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I just finished a meeting about a couple of cases I’m investigating. I need to get back to my office now. See you later.”

He stepped around her and strode quickly toward the elevator bank. As he walked away, she realized that he hadn’t asked her why she was there. He also hadn’t seemed surprised to see her. Her chest tightened as she realized that must mean that Julian and Connor had been meeting just now and they’d been talking about her.

Before she could start wondering about what they’d been saying, Connor materialized out of a side corridor. “Ah, there you are. Come with me.”

She followed him into a small conference room with a round table topped with black granite and a matching credenza. An original oil painting of a French street hung on the wall. Connor already had a notepad and a mug at a spot opposite the door. She’d been in this room several times before and usually sat next to him so they could look at documents or a laptop screen together, but today she chose a chair facing him.

“I’ve got a few things to discuss with you,” he said after they were both seated, “but why don’t you go first since you’ve obviously got something to say to me.”

“Yes, I do.” Allie took a deep breath and began a speech she’d rehearsed at least ten times in the hotel mirror. “First of all, I’m sorry for showing up unannounced like this. I was afraid that you wouldn’t be willing to see me if I tried to make an appointment.” She watched him for a reaction, but he sat watching her impassively, his hands folded on the table in front of him.

“Second, I want to repeat what I said in the Bahamas. I’m very sorry for the mistakes I made and I take full responsibility for them. I screwed up and I admit it. I’ve put you and Doyle & Brown in a very bad position even though I owe you a lot. And I’ve done more than that. I’ve unintentionally helped cover up whatever is going on at Deep Seven. I also haven’t done everything I could to help the Kansas police investigate the death of Jason Tompkins.”

She paused and glanced at him. Still no reaction. He was as expressionless as a pro poker player.

“But I know being sorry isn’t enough. It doesn’t change anything. I’ve got to do what I can to make up for it. I’ve got to at least try to fix things. I’ve got some ideas on how to do that, but I’ll need your help.”

A tiny skeptical line appeared between his eyebrows. “What exactly are you planning on doing?”

Okay, he hadn’t immediately forgiven her and agreed to help, but she hadn’t expected that. She moved to her to-do list, leading with the item that should interest him most. “For starters, I’ll help you sort out whatever trouble I’ve caused for you and the firm. I’ll tell whoever wants to listen that you didn’t know anything about the invoices at Deep Seven. That was all me. I’ll also talk to the Kansas police.”

His cool professional mask cracked and his eyebrows went up. “Good. That’s… that will certainly help. Hold on just a minute and I’ll get a videographer in here so we can get this on tape before you leave.” He turned toward the phone on the credenza.

“Um, I can’t do it right away. Or at least not if you’re going to use it anytime soon.”

He turned back to her, his face hardened by skepticism. “Why not?”

“Because there’s something I need to do first. I’m going back to Deep Seven. I’m going to find out what they’re hiding if it kills me.”

He stared at her. “It just might kill you. Remember what happened to Sam Stimson.”

The respect in his eyes and voice was like a fresh spring breeze cutting through the foul Smell that hung around her. She smiled. “Only if they catch me. Don’t you have any faith in me anymore?” Oops, dumb question. “I mean—”

But he was already frowning and shaking his head. “No, that won’t work.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re withdrawing from representing you and Devil to Pay, and I’ve been ordered to put the name of a Devil to Pay officer—and you’re the only one—in the withdrawal papers. So your name is going to come out anyway and… Well, that was a nice idea you had, but let’s just stick with you testifying for us and talking to the Kansas police.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had finally worked up the courage and resolve to do what she knew in her very marrow was the right thing and Connor was trying to talk her out of it? This was the guy who never met a dirty company he didn’t want to spank with a battle-ax. And now he was telling her to walk away from what could be the dirtiest company she had ever found. Who slipped the wimp pills into his coffee this morning? “Are you serious? What about Deep Seven? Didn’t you beat my head in about two weeks ago because I’d screwed up any chance that DOJ would investigate them? Well, I want to investigate them now.”

He gave a small shrug. “I’m sorry, but that’s the firm’s decision. I don’t have any choice.”

“I thought you said we always have choices, but they’re not always easy.”

He flushed and shifted in his chair. “That’s true, but this isn’t really my choice. It’s the firm’s.”

“But don’t they usually let you make decisions about your own cases?”

“Yeah, but I don’t exactly have a lot of clout with management right now—and I think you know why.”

That shot went home, but she didn’t give up. “Can’t you at least talk to them?”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Long seconds ticked by. “I’ll talk to them. I haven’t decided what I’m going to say, but I’ll talk to them.”