Thirty-six
The afternoon deposition followed the same basic course of the morning’s, with Sollers gently charming and then leading Joe’s client through the elements of the defense he obviously felt he could build: these plaintiffs were at fault. They created their own fire hazards by not handling the iron properly. Atheena had done everything it should by printing out warnings in an instruction manual that came with every product. It wasn’t Atheena’s fault if the customer chose not to read it.
It was only around three o’clock when Sarah finished her questions. Ryan thanked Joe’s client again for coming in.
“I hope that wasn’t too bad, Mrs. McKinley.”
“No,” she said, smiling in a motherly way, “it wasn’t too bad.”
“You have a good evening now,” Ryan said.
“You, too,” she answered. Then she let Joe lead her out.
Sarah turned to Ryan and shook her head. “Wow. You could charm the pearls right off that lady.”
“Like I said,” Ryan answered. “Nothing wrong with being friendly.”
When Joe returned, Ryan once again asked the court reporter to leave. “We have some scheduling matters to go over, Wendy. I hope you understand.”
“Of course,” she said, smiling at him this time. “I’ll see all of you tomorrow. I might try to catch an earlier flight now and actually see some of Seattle.”
“Sounds good,” Ryan said. “Maybe we’ll get out of here soon, too. See you tomorrow, Wendy.”
The court reporter waved to him and carried her equipment case from the room.
Looking at the woman’s face, the way she smiled at Ryan and shyly dipped her head down, Sarah had no doubt Ryan could charm more than the pearls off of that one. He was a good-looking, confident man—no question about it. And Sarah had no trouble believing that those qualities worked for him more often than not.
Ryan handed one sheet of paper to Joe and another to Sarah. “Here’s my proposed schedule. You can look it over and give me your thoughts later.”
He had been sitting next to Sarah, but now Ryan got up and moved to the chair at the end of the table where the court reporter had been sitting, so that he had an equal view of Sarah and Joe.
“Now. There’s something else I’d like to discuss with you two.” He gazed from one of them to the other, his posture still as relaxed as ever, but there was something in his eyes, Sarah noticed. A look of excitement. Pleasure.
“I find I’m in an interesting position,” Ryan said. “As Sarah knows, I like to do my homework. Your law firms’ websites—even your old one, Sarah—had very nice photos of both of you. So I knew who I might be looking for. Which means that as of last night, I knew who you two were, but you didn’t know me. So you didn’t realize I was on your flight.”
Sarah’s heart thudded in her chest. Her skin went cold. Every nerve in her body felt on high alert. Had she seen him last night? He was right, she wouldn’t have known what he looked like—she didn’t even know who he was until he showed up at the deposition that morning. He could have been sitting right next to them in the airport, and she might not have noticed.
Had he overheard something? Seen something? She remembered letting her guard down when she saw that Marcela wasn’t there. For all she knew, Wendy the replacement court reporter had been on the flight as well, but Sarah had been too wrapped up in Joe to notice.
She wanted so badly to look over at Joe then, to see his reaction. But she forced herself to keep her eyes on Sollers instead. She needed to play this whole situation as coolly as possible.
“I thought it was interesting that you both graduated from UCLA Law the same year,” Ryan went on. “I wondered if you two knew each other back then. You did, didn’t you?” he asked Sarah.
She didn’t say a word, but sat frozen, watchful.
“Doesn’t matter,” Ryan said. “That part’s history. I’m more interested in the present.”
He pulled out his phone. “I didn’t realize there’d be anything to see,” he said, swiping his finger across the screen, “but that’s the nice thing about modern technology—you always have a camera with you.”
Now Sarah did lock eyes with Joe. He subtly shook his head, as if warning her not to say anything. She already had the same instinct.
“Nothing too incriminating at first,” Ryan said, looking through his pictures. “Just a few smiles, some laughter—the same sort of thing someone would have seen at our lunch today, Sarah. Ah, but then,” he said, smiling, “we get to the rental car counter.”
Sarah tried to swallow, but there was no moisture left in her mouth. Her eyes burned into Joe’s.
“A nice photo here,” Ryan said, still not showing any of them to either Sarah or Joe. “The two of you standing so close. But I can see how someone might still interpret that as two old law school friends catching up. So we’ll let that go. Even this one, Joe, where you have your hand so nicely against her back as the two of you head for the garage. Very nice. But maybe you were just being a gentleman—I can understand that.”
Sarah thought of Sollers making that same gesture as the two of them walked to their table in the restaurant. She hadn’t mistaken it for the touch of a gentleman.
Ryan swept his finger across the screen again, then sat back with a satisfied grin. “And then . . . oh, yes, these really are the best ones. The lighting in the garage wasn’t great, but still . . . ” He looked up at Sarah and Joe. “You know, you two really should be more careful.”
Sarah’s skin felt cold and sweaty. Her heart pelted against her chest. She didn’t dare look at Joe now, for fear that the panic would show in her eyes.
“This is all very interesting,” Joe said calmly, “but what do you want?”
“Wait,” Ryan answered, holding up a finger, “there’s more. I thought I should at least introduce myself to you last night, Sarah, since we were both defending this case, so I tried to call your room several times. All the way up until midnight, in fact, but the desk clerk said you still hadn’t checked in. Then I tried again this morning, but still, no sign of you.”
She had been so stupid, Sarah realized. So reckless. Thinking that just because Joe was leaving the case soon—just because they had settled things between the two of them—there was no danger anymore. Forgetting that there might be other eyes watching them. Other people anxious to make the most of their misdeeds.
“What do you want?” Joe asked again.
“Well, you can see my dilemma,” Sollers answered, giving them both a benevolent smile. “I’m in a very difficult position.”
“How so?” Joe asked, his voice still calm—calmer, Sarah knew, than she could have possibly managed at that moment.
“Obviously I’m an officer of the court, just like you two,” Sollers said. “I have an ethical obligation to report any violations to the Bar. I imagine if they decided to investigate, they’d ask for all sorts of information—maybe e-mails between the two of you, texts—nothing in this world is secret anymore, boys and girls.”
It was his smugness, Sarah thought, his assurance, that finally made her blood grow hot again until she could feel the pressure rise inside her chest. She understood now exactly what that lunch had been about: Ryan was someone who liked to play with his food. He had been toying with her, drawing out the pleasure of the hunt before finally going in for the kill.
Sarah found her voice again. “So, Ryan, how did you see this playing out today? I’m sure you had a plan.”
“Oh, I did,” he agreed. “But there are so many variables.”
“Such as?” she asked.
“Sarah, don’t say anything more,” Joe warned.
But she felt calm now, clearer. And she needed information. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel trapped and at this man’s mercy. She needed to hear from him what he thought he stood to gain.
“It’s all right,” she told Joe. “Ryan and I understand each other, don’t we?”
“I think maybe we do,” he said cheerfully, and it took everything she had not to leap across the table and punch that smug smile from his face.
“So,” she said, keeping her voice low and deliberately slow to hold her pulse in check. “Tell me what your scenario looked like: you’d spring this trap on us, and then . . . what? One of us would quit?”
“‘Trap’ is too strong,” Sollers said. “Remember, I didn’t force you to do anything. I was just in the happy position of observer. But yes, quitting would be one solution—and certainly an honorable way for the gentleman to handle it.” He turned to Joe. “Or what do you think?”
“I think you’re a pr—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sarah said, cutting him off. She was in full-on lawyer mode now, heading deeper into the negotiation. She had gone past it feeling personal anymore. “So, Ryan, what are your terms?”
Because she felt certain he had them.
Ryan shrugged. “I keep this whole tale to myself—action photos included—and you two figure out between you who goes. It doesn’t matter to me, although Sarah, you provide much better scenery.”
Sarah could see Joe’s jaw tighten. But she knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t do anything stupid.
“What’s in it for you?” Sarah asked, although she already knew. She just wanted to hear him confirm it.
“Never say no when another lawyer asks you for a favor,” he had told her at lunch. “There’ll always come a time when they have to pay you back.”
That was exactly his game, Sarah thought. Make both of them owe him. Then at some point during the case, when Sollers saw the greatest advantage to himself, collect on it.
“What’s in it for me?” Ryan repeated. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure we can figure something out. We’re all smart, civilized people.”
Sarah nodded. Then she pushed back her chair and stood. “Okay. I think we’re done here.” She slipped her laptop back into its bag and turned to retrieve her luggage from the corner of the room.
Just one more piece of evidence, she suddenly realized, that she’d spent the night somewhere other than at that hotel. If she had checked in the night before, she probably would have left her luggage in the room. Instead she walked into the deposition first thing that morning wheeling her bag.
“Maybe I’ll see you tonight,” Sollers said to her. “I think we’re both registered at the same hotel—that is, if you check in this time. We can talk about it more over dinner. I’ll even let you buy.”
Sarah didn’t answer. Instead she headed for the door.
Joe remained in his seat.
“Burke?” she said, hoping to shake him loose. She didn’t know what he might say or do, but she doubted it would help. And it might make matters worse, although at that moment she couldn’t imagine how.
What she really needed was to talk to him privately, to process everything that had just happened. But Joe didn’t budge.
So Sarah kept on going. Out of the room, out of the hotel, into a taxi, and bound for the airport.
It would catch up to her, she knew. The knowledge that what had just happened in there, in the space of however many minutes, had irrevocably changed her life. Because Sollers was right: it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t tricked them or trapped them. Sarah and Joe had done this to themselves, gotten sloppy and careless, had given an outsider the chance to destroy their careers.
Would she go to prison for it? No. What they’d done wasn’t criminal—they hadn’t swindled anyone, laundered money, violated any federal laws the way the partners in both Joe’s and Sarah’s firms had.
But an ethical violation like this could get them both disbarred. At a minimum, suspended. And Sarah couldn’t afford a suspension any more than she could afford quitting this case or losing the job Calvin had only recently offered her.
Sarah leaned forward in the cab and dropped her head into her hands. What a complete and utter mess. And she had no one to blame but herself.
She would have to figure out a way to dig out of it, but she knew it wouldn’t be easy—no part of it would be easy. And she knew Joe wouldn’t agree with what she was already thinking she had to do. But she couldn’t worry about that. He had his own career to think of, and she had hers.
I’m with you, Joe.
That was before, Sarah thought, when it was Joe alone who seemed in danger of going down with the ship.
Now it was Sarah’s turn—again—but this time she knew she had a choice. She could stay on deck and wait for the water to lap up over her feet, or she could take the leap now, plunging into the roiling seas.
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