Lawyer Trap

38





DAY SEVEN–SEPTEMBER 11

SUNDAY MORNING


Aspen rolled over in bed and almost continued sleeping when she realized that everything was a little off—the feel of the pillow, the smell of the air, the texture of the sounds. She opened her eyes, found herself in a strange dark room, and bolted upright as her heart pounded.

Where was she?

She held her breath, listening for danger, but detected none. Then she remembered Blake Gray insisting that she be somewhere safe last night and checking her into the Adam’s Mark Hotel in downtown Denver.

Another room connected to hers.

In that room was a man named Larry Speaker, a professional bodyguard and part-time black-belt instructor, packing a SIG .45 and a Concealed Weapon Permit.

She got out of bed, checked the connecting door and found it just as she had left it before going to bed last night—closed but unlocked.

She opened it as quietly as she could and peeked into the other room. She found her protector, Speaker, curled up on his side under a white blanket, breathing deep and heavy.

Okay.

She had survived the night.

But what about two months from now, when the bodyguards and hiding places were long gone?

The clock said 5:30 A.M.

She dressed without making a noise and went down to the hotel’s fitness center. One other person was there, a middle-aged bald man walking on a treadmill and watching an early morning news program on the monitor. He smiled and said hello when she walked in, but she could tell he wouldn’t be hitting on her.

She worked the weights for thirty minutes and then spun the stationary bike until her legs burned.

When she got back to her room, Speaker was there, pacing, dressed and stressed, talking frantically into a cell phone. When she stepped into the room he said, “Goddamn it! Don’t ever do that again without leaving a note.”

She felt like shit.

He was absolutely right.

“Sorry,” she said. “I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

He must have read something in her voice because he immediately softened and said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Sorry,” she said again.

He nodded.

“No problem.”

She showered, packed, put a note on the nightstand, and then quietly slipped out of the room. The note said: Larry. Thanks for protecting me last night. Sorry again for the brain-fart.

She headed back to her apartment but found yellow crime tape on the door and didn’t know whether she should enter even though it was her place. She decided she probably shouldn’t and drove to Einstein’s for coffee and a bagel instead.

Then her cell phone rang.

Christina Tam’s voice came though.

“Are you still alive?”

Aspen grunted.

“As far as I can tell. Why? Do you have your eye on my office?”

“God, no. Your office sucks.”

Twenty minutes later Christina showed up, waved, got in line to buy a coffee and then joined her. She wore tennis shoes and a short white skirt that emphasized smooth golden legs.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me,” Christina said, slurping at the cup.

“What’s that?”

“About whether Rachel Ringer had a lover,” she said.

“Meaning what? She did?”

“No,” she said, pushing her glasses up. “But a thought came to the surface while I was trying to go to sleep last night. I saw Rachel once, at a restaurant, having lunch with Blake Gray. I was going to go over and say hello, but their body language told me they wanted to be alone, so I stayed back.”

Aspen considered it.

She didn’t find it particularly compelling.

“Probably discussing a case,” she said.

“Could be,” Christina said. “But I didn’t get that impression. They were in this real private booth, way in the back of the restaurant. I didn’t see any briefcases or papers with them. And Rachel had this look on her face as if she was about to slip under the table and give him a blowjob.”

Aspen laughed.

“Rachel never struck me as the blowjob type.”

“Maybe, but she had the blowjob look,” Christina said.

Aspen cocked her head.

“There’s a look for that?” she asked.

Christina nodded.

“Show me,” Aspen said.

Christina paused at first and then put on her best blowjob face.

Aspen couldn’t help but laugh.

Then Christina got serious and said, “I have an idea.”