Lawyer Trap

53





DAY NINE–SEPTEMBER 13

TUESDAY EVENING


Aspen left work shortly after five, saying goodbye to lots of people so it was clearly on the record. Then she came back about seven-thirty. Christina Tam, who never left, met her at the door and let her in. That way neither of their keycards would show up as being used for an after-hours entry. They weren’t positive but were pretty sure that keycards were tracked in a computer or security system.

“Everyone’s gone on this floor,” Christina told her.

“Good.”

“You nervous?”

“Scared shitless.”

“Me too.”

Aspen held up a flashlight. “Brought this,” she said.

“You’re such an organized little criminal.”

They had already planned it. Christina would hang out in the dead-files room with the door open. She’d have a box down and one of her old cases on the floor. If anyone asked, she’d say she was pulling some research out of it to use in a current case. No one would suspect a thing. She’d have her cell phone already set to Aspen’s number. If she heard anything, she’d call. Aspen would have the phone in her pants pocket, set to vibrate, and immediately turn the flashlight off and hide.

They walked up to the 45th floor.

Derek Bennett’s office sat near the end of the hall with the rest of the rainmakers.

“So have you figured out what you’re looking for?” Christina asked.

“No.”

“That’ll make it harder to find.”

“Considerably.”

They found the hallway deserted. None of the attorneys locked their office doors at night. In fact, most didn’t even shut them. Derek Bennett was no exception.

Aspen walked in and turned the flashlight on.

Her heart pounded and her mind raced.

Okay.

You’re in.

Now get your ass moving.

She checked the filing cabinets first, looking for a folder on Rachel, or the killings at the railroad spur, or Tops & Bottoms, or anything else out of the ordinary.

Nothing of interest surfaced.

Everything appeared to be related to clients.

She checked his voice messages, being careful to not delete any.

Nothing unusual.

Did she dare fire up his computer?

Not yet.

Exhaust everything else first.

His credenza drawers held a lot of personal crap, phone books, office supplies, and other junk. Quite normal. Except the last drawer she checked.

There she found a gun.

She carefully picked it up with two fingers. She didn’t know anything about guns but the insignia indicated it was a Springfield 9mm. She memorized the shape and put it back.

Then her phone vibrated.

Shit!

She turned off the flashlight, jumped with giant but very quiet hops to the coat closet, got in and shut the door, setting metal hangers in motion. She reached up and steadied them. Not more than a heartbeat later, the lights went on.

Someone walked over to the desk and sat down.

She opened her mouth and breathed as slow and shallow as she could.

Frozen in place.

Someone grunted.

A man’s voice.

She pictured Bennett at his desk, getting ready to do who knows what for who knows how long.

Goddamn it.

If he found her, there was absolutely no explanation that would work. She would be history at the firm. Nor would any other firm have her after the word got out about what a sneaky little bitch she was.

Then his computer came on.

Damn it!

He was going to be there for a while.

She stood there, motionless.

Second after second.

Minute after minute.

For a long time.

Fifteen minutes, at least.

Then thirty.

Bennett was doing something at his desk, possibly getting ready for a trial or a meeting tomorrow. Maybe looking at Internet porn. Who knows?

Come on!

Just finish and leave!

Bennett’s phone rang. He picked it up, said “Bennett,” and then listened without talking. After a while he said, “Yeah, I saw the newspaper article. It’s sitting right here on my desk. The dumb bitch. I agree, it’s reaching critical mass …”

Suddenly someone entered the room.

“Knock knock.” Aspen recognized the voice as Christina’s. “Hey, Derek. I’m really sorry to bother you, but I did something stupid.”

“What’s that?”

“I left my car lights on all day.”

He chuckled.

“That’ll wear your battery down.”

“Yeah, I just found that out.”

“Have you got jumper cables?”

“No.”

He stood up. “Well, I do. Let’s see if we can get you back on the road.”

After Christina-the-genius got Bennett out of there, Aspen waited until the coast was clear and then slipped out of the closet. She walked directly over to his desk and found the newspaper article sitting on top of his briefcase.

It was a New York Times article from this morning about a woman named Rebecca Yates who walked in front of a bus in Times Square yesterday. Witnesses reported that she appeared to do it on purpose. “Suicide by bus,” they were saying. There were high-society rumors that she had been despondent since her husband, Robert Yates, and their daughter, Amanda Yates, were murdered two months ago.

There were still no suspects in that case.

Aspen turned off the flashlight and listened for sounds.

There were none.

Okay, leave.

Now.

Right this second.