What proceeded was perhaps the biggest jerk off job I've ever seen. His device, which curiously powered up just fine, didn't get a reading at all, and kept giving him an error message. When I offered to do a field sobriety test, in full view of his dash cam of course, he stated that the conditions were unsafe for doing so, as apparently a tenth of an inch of snow gusting around by the wind was too dangerous to let me walk in a straight line. I wasn't even wearing high heels, those being in the passenger seat of my car. I drove in running shoes.
I knew better than to reach for my phone to call anyone, or to try and make a scene. I might have been a local media attraction, and I might have been dating the best looking member of the City Council, but that didn't mean I couldn't catch an old fashioned police beatdown if the cop wanted to. Instead I waited the extra forty five minutes while another cruiser was brought in, and a police Sergeant got out. He had his dog with him, and I inwardly groaned.
Of course, as you'd expect, Rover started barking like hell and nearly pissing himself as soon as he got within sniffing distance of my car. "Open the trunk, ma'am," Sergeant Super-Cop said. "This is not a request."
"I understand," I said, keeping my temper in check as I shivered in the cold. I hadn't worn a jacket, and I was damn near freezing. "Just, do you mind if I call my house? I'm really cold, and they can bring me a jacket or something."
"Sorry, no phone calls," the first cop said. At least he said sorry.
My trunk was empty except for some dry cleaning that I didn't get out of the trunk the day before. Still, it was nearly another hour before the two cops decided that they'd hassled me enough. The first cop wrote out a warning for, quote, 'not approaching a red light at an acceptable level of caution' and let me on my way. As soon as I was in the office, Vanessa looked at me questioningly. "I was beginning to wonder if something happened to you, Tabby."
She'd gotten a lot better at calling me Tabby in the past few months. "Yeah, something did. Two of our local cops decided it was time to play screw around with the local supposedly anti-Union business leader," I grumbled. "Tell me, what am I late for?"
"Nothing I couldn't handle," Vanessa replied. "The general contractor dropped off a cost update of next month's renovations on the first center, and wanted the check for him to distribute out. I cut him a check, sorry I had to use your autopen."
"No problem, I trust you," I said, distracted. Vanessa did have access to one of the public MJT checking accounts for specifically purposes like this, where she could make online payments for different things. She rarely used it since we kept the level relatively low, mainly for accounting purposes. "Anything else?"
"Gene from the Spartans called, but he said he'll be out of the office for the rest of the day. They're in the playoff hunt you know, and I think he wanted to offer you and Patrick first dibs on playoff tickets if they get a home game."
"Okay, thanks. I'll try and reply. If I can get a box, you want to go? You know you and your... Vanessa, I have to apologize," I said in wonderment as the fact hit me. "I don't know what your social life is like at all."
"I've got a husband and ten year old boy," Vanessa said with a smile. "If you're offering, I'd love to come. Although I have to warn you about my son. He's got a crush on you."
"Isn't he a little young for that sort of thing?" I asked, amused and flattered.
"He's mature for his age. We're thinking of getting him a razor as a stocking stuffer for Christmas this year," she said. "I'm just saying, if he gives you the puppy dog eyes, you'll know why."
I shook my head in amazement. "Ten year old boys need to be fantasizing about Katy Perry or something, not me."
Vanessa laughed. “Oh what about your house staff? You know I've been working for you all this time and I've never met them?"
"I'll see. Joanna is getting a lot closer to delivery. If things go according to schedule, we're going to have a new baby in the house by Super Bowl time. But I can ask."
"Thanks. I've talked with her on the phone a few times, she sounds quite nice."
I smiled, thinking of my Sophie. "She is. By the way, any word from the attorney?"
"Not yet."
I sighed, my only sign of frustration since getting in. The Squid had been doing his job, using private investigators and delaying tactics to wear out Scott Pressman. If it had been just him or his family, he should have folded up by that point. Instead, his legal team was nearly as sharp as he was, counter filing motions and things constantly. I'd already had two depositions, and hated them both.
The evidence was clear, Scott Pressman was being backed by the Union. It was our best opportunity of busting him open. If we could make a connection between Scott Pressman and the Union, Mark had enough dirt on Pressman to tie him to the now defunct Confederation. There was no way that Berkobitch would want that to come out in the papers.
"All right, thanks. Let me get to work, and try and make up for some lost time. Patrick’s got a council meeting tonight, so I should be able to catch up.”
Chapter 10
Mark