“It’s possible, isn’t it?”
Judy recoiled. “That would be an extreme reaction, don’t you think?”
“Maybe,” Mary said, reconsidering. “but I don’t know Shanahan at all. Do you?”
“No.”
Mary shrugged. “Maybe we need to learn more about him. I would feel better if I ran it down, wouldn’t you?”
“You know, this suggests that John and Shanahan had been talking about it. Some of the talks could have been face-to-face and maybe some would be in email.”
“So there should be some emails between the two of them. We should be able to recover John’s emails, even though we don’t have his laptop or his phone. If he used his work email, we could get them off the firm server. Did he have personal email as well?”
“Yes, Gmail. JGFoxman@gmail.”
Mary felt stumped. “It takes a subpoena to access somebody else’s Gmail, and they’re not easy to get.”
“John might have made copies of the emails. That would be like him.” Judy started looking around the desk. “Knowing him, there’s a William file here, somewhere. I know he had the records for William, like birth certificate and the trust document.”
“Here’s the hard question—do you think that John told William that he was going to file a complaint about Shanahan’s treatment? Because if John did that, that could even mean that William was in jeopardy.”
“I don’t know for sure.” Judy frowned, concerned.
“Take a guess. You knew them both.”
“I’m sure that they would’ve talked about the problem with the eating and swallowing, but I don’t know if John would’ve told William he was filing a complaint. On the other hand, he could have. John always wanted William to know that he was looking out for him. They were close.”
“So you’ll have to ask William.”
“Right. I’ll do it when I see him. It’s easier than over the phone.” Judy grimaced. “This worries me.”
“Me, too.” Mary’s gaze fell on the file cabinet. “Okay, let’s get on it. I’ll search the cabinet and you search the desk.”
“Okay,” Judy said, starting to dig.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
It wasn’t until two o’clock in the morning that Mary finally slipped into bed, having stayed up to decompress with Judy in the guest bedroom, flopping around with her gaseous golden retriever, talking about John, William, and theories of the murder. They had searched John’s file cabinet in his apartment, but they hadn’t been able to find a William file or emails from John to Mike Shanahan, so they’d resolved to look at the office at work tomorrow. Mary had emailed Lou to run a background check on Shanahan and see if he could turn up anything interesting about him. She wasn’t about to leave any stone unturned.
Mary pulled the sheet up to her chin carefully, so as not to wake Anthony, whose back was to her. Oddly, she didn’t feel as tired as she had last night or most of the pregnancy. Her brain crackled with activity, and she breathed deeply, trying to settle down because she knew she had to get up early. She had to review the London Technologies file so she could prepare to defend the deposition. She didn’t mind flying by the seat of her pants, but she didn’t even know the name of the deponent, which would be an all-time career low.
“Mary, do you really think I’m asleep?” Anthony asked quietly, his tone unmistakably unhappy.
“Oh sorry, yes, I thought you would be. We tried to be quiet.”
“You didn’t wake me, I’ve just been awake, wondering when you were coming home.” Anthony turned over on his side, facing her, and Mary could see the silhouette of his head and shoulder in the light flowing through the curtains.
“Well, I mean it was a long night, I spoke with you before Judy and I went to see William—”
“I know but—”
“—and I spoke with you saying we were going to my parents, and I texted you saying we were going to the crime scene—”
“My point isn’t that you didn’t tell me where you’re going. My point is that I don’t know what you’re doing.” Anthony’s tone sounded bewildered and slightly critical, in the darkness.
“There’s a lot going on, we’re trying to figure out who killed John, make sure Judy doesn’t get charged, deal with Machiavelli and—”
“Babe, you’re not understanding me. You went to the doctor yesterday, you are having issues. She told you to take it easy. Did you forget you’re pregnant?”
“Of course not,” Mary shot back, becoming irritated. “How can I possibly forget I am pregnant? The fact that I’m pregnant is every single waking second of my life. I smell weird things, I feel nauseated, I throw up. Don’t tell me that I forget I’m pregnant.”
“You’re not acting like you’re pregnant. You’re not doing what the doctor said. You’re running around as if you’re not pregnant at all.”
“No I’m not,” Mary started to say, angrily, but then she realized that Anthony might be right. “You know, I stand corrected. Today might be the first day that I really didn’t think about my pregnancy first, above everything. I didn’t feel my symptoms as much. I was hardly nauseated. I just didn’t think about it for once.”
“I know, and that’s what’s bothering me.”
“Is it bothering you?” Mary asked, more sharply than she had expected. Suddenly it occurred to her, with a flash of insight, what was going on. “You know, as soon as I learned I was pregnant, I changed everything. I thought about the baby first, all the time. I ate differently, I made sure I was hydrated, I ate yogurt to build the baby’s bones, and I don’t drink anything but decaf. I don’t even have a Diet Coke. I’ve changed everything because I’m carrying a baby.”
“Since when do you have a problem with that?”
“I didn’t think I did, but maybe I do.” Mary heard the words coming out of her mouth, surprising even herself. “Because I can tell you that today I felt terrific. I didn’t think about the baby first today. I thought about John, who was brutally murdered by some thug or God knows who. I thought about William, his brother who has cerebral palsy, who was devastated that he lost his brother, leaving him alone in the world. I thought—”
“Honey, where is this coming from?”
“—about Judy, who thought she was going to get married, but now has lost John and all of her dreams. And I even thought about litigation, London Technologies, a client who came to us to save their business and is wondering if we’re a cabal of murderesses, like witches. I have to defend a deposition tomorrow, and you know what, I feel good about that. I like the idea of being a lawyer again. I like putting a client’s interests ahead of my own and fighting for them—”
“Okay, but I think you’re overreacting—”
“—so excuse me, if just for one single day in seven months, I didn’t think about the baby first. I thought about me. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like myself.” Mary stopped talking abruptly, having realized how strongly she felt. Now that the words were out of her mouth, she wasn’t about to disown them.
“So, babe, what are you saying?”
“I was pretty clear, don’t you think? I said a lot of things.” Mary tried to suppress a flicker of irritability. “I have a lot on my mind and there’s a lot going on, and I really don’t need to come home and have you tell me that I’m a bad mother, when I’m not even a mother yet.”
“Wow. Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.” Mary let herself reply angrily, which was something she ordinarily didn’t do. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this cranky, not at Anthony. They hardly ever fought, truly. But she’d never been through anything like this before.
“You sound like you resent the fact that you’re pregnant.”
“No I don’t,” Mary replied, reflexively. “Or maybe I do. I didn’t think I did, but I do when you tell me that I’m a bad person for doing what I need to do for myself and for everyone around me.”