Damn Him to Hell (22 page)

Rather than disturb Andre if he was still sleeping in my car, I took the Harley to work. Unprofessional, maybe, but it got me through rush-hour traffic in record time, although it also earned me a fair share of middle-finger salutes.

No one at the office acknowledged my existence. It was almost like being back in law school. I scurried from one task to the next, asking only if people wanted cream and sugar, or both criminal and torte law cases. I made phone calls, ran errands, provided copies.

In the courthouse halls, I overheard whispered conversations about the unusual circumstances of the Vanderventer murder case. Apparently, lawyers like discussing gory details. And if they aren’t gory enough, they make up more gruesome ones. The story was taking on a life of its own. And for a change, no one connected me with it at all.

Anonymity had suited me for years while I earned my degree. It didn’t sit so well now that I’d had a taste of what I was capable of doing. I wanted to know
what the establishment thought about Andre’s case and Gloria’s behavior and the Vanderventer fortune. I wanted in on those conversations so I could help.

I didn’t need Tim to make me invisible. In here, I already was.

Seething with unhealthy frustration, I poured coffee.

I knew I needed to learn the courthouse ropes, and the judge’s office was the best place to learn. I wasn’t arrogant enough to believe that good grades and a few law books would make a lawyer of me, but neither would acting as a glorified secretary.

I kept my ears open, hoping I’d pick up the name of a strong defense attorney for Andre. Instead, all I heard were reasons for giving his case a wide berth. It seemed Andre was rumored to be a psychopathic nut job his father was protecting.

Okay, so chances were good that Andre
was
borderline psycho—except Gloria had been the one who’d gone berserk, not Andre. But the Vanderventers were wealthy, and Andre was an unknown factor. Odds were stacking up against him. I’d been the underdog enough to know how that worked.

It didn’t help that Andre had actually produced pics of Gloria, once given access to a computer. It seemed Dane’s glorified asshat of a grandmother had liked displaying her naked plastic assets around the pool boy—where the security cameras could see them. The courthouse gossip was ugly.

My frustration increased. Over lunch, I pulled out case law establishing precedent for Andre’s situation
and began preparing a defense outline. Of course, I had more inside info than the average dick, but the case was fairly basic: accidental death. Playing the witnesses was the key. If the witnesses told the truth, they wouldn’t even have a manslaughter charge against Andre.

I could, of course, attempt to visualize the witnesses into honesty. I had no idea if it would work. And since it wasn’t exactly punishment for evil deeds, I figured it would come under personal gain and the payback would be painful. I didn’t want to end up a chimp or in a wheelchair. Caution had its uses.

I preferred sticking to the law. Andre was innocent. I had no reason to believe that justice couldn’t be served legally this time.

I didn’t have time to finish the outline before Reggie-baby demanded that I fetch a file from another office. He only had a year’s experience more than me, and he was a year younger.

I’d had enough practice these past years to bite my sharp tongue and trot obediently off to do his bidding, even though my lunch break wasn’t over. I’d spent a lifetime teaching good behavior to bullies by punching them out. I was an adult now. In this new environment, I had to use subtlety.

I politely delivered both files and coffee. In return, Reggie hugged me and tried to feel me up.

I was willing to put up with a lot, but sexual harassment didn’t happen on my time card. Pretending shock and surprise, I accidentally tipped the mug, and
hot coffee steamed his Lauren trousers. And probably his Calvin Klein boxers, but I didn’t hang around long enough to find out. I left him yelling and yanking off his belt.

Giving me a glare that promised vengeance, Jill dashed off to the restroom for paper towels. I took her place at the front desk and answered phones while surreptitiously scanning the logs to see what cases the judge had on his agenda. Maybe I could study up and get ahead of Reggie. My eyebrows soared when I saw Vanderventer and MacNeill on the list.

As if the Universe had decided I needed a reward for scalding Ivy Boy’s balls, the phone rang and caller ID gave me Paddy’s name. Interesting.

Pretending I was snobby Jill, I answered with the office name.

“This is Padraig Vanderventer. I need to speak with Judge Snodgrass,” he said stiffly, probably because he never used a phone. I was totally amazed that he owned one. They didn’t work so hot in the Zone, so he was probably with Julius.

“The judge is in a meeting, Mr. Vanderventer,” I said with a completely straight face. “If I may ask what this is in reference to, I can pull the files and have them waiting on his desk when he returns your call.”

“Tina, is that you?” he asked with a heavy dose of ill humor. “Is that what they have you doing, answering phones?”

“Ah, what gave me away? And I was trying so very hard, too.” So maybe it hadn’t been Dane/Max who’d
got me this job. Maybe Paddy had. Or Julius. They all apparently knew the old goat.

“No one in that office is ever that efficient,” he said with irritation. “Snodgrass was my mother’s attorney back in the days when she bothered to consult with anyone besides herself. She should have a will. The MacNeills are already talking to Acme management. I’d like to let them have the cesspool, but I need to keep my access to that building. Can you find the file?”

Jill and Reginald were standing over me, glaring. I admired the dark stain on Reggie’s trousers, tapped a pencil on the log, and nodded briskly. “Yes, sir, of course, sir. I’ll get right on it.”

I hung up, brushed past them as if they were obstacles to be hurdled, and, without offering a word of explanation, proceeded to the file vault. Really, I could play the silly game of one-upmanship. I’m not much of a team player, but my competitive instincts are strong. I knew how to whip Reggie’s ass. If he’d been smarter, he’d have learned to work with me instead of against me.

Since Jill thought I was working under the judge’s orders, she let me alone. Assuming Gloria had dropped the firm after she’d inherited Acme, I hunted through the pre-computer files from that decade. I located a Vanderventer file, but it contained no will. I quickly scanned documents for anything interesting, but they mostly related to Paddy’s father. He hadn’t left a will, apparently, but everything he owned had Gloria’s name on it. She got the lot. Bad estate planning.
The taxes had probably sucked the Gucci right out of her purse.

I entered the file number into the computer to see if there was anything more recent, but as Paddy had said, Gloria went her own way once she had the estate in her hands. Notations of a few phone calls, several discussions and notes about a new will, stock exchanges, and land sales. There should have been a draft, at least, but there wasn’t.

Control issues was my bet. She could have been given a draft, asked that it be stricken from her file, and never returned for a final to keep snoops like me out of her business. A bank could have had the documents witnessed and notarized without contacting a law office. If she had stored the final copy in a bank box, my assessment of the lady’s intelligence would drop by fifteen IQ points.

As I’d promised Paddy, I placed copies of the appropriate files on the judge’s desk along with Paddy’s message, or the message he would have left had I not cut him off so abruptly. Jill and Reggie would pry, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that.

As a bonus, Reggie didn’t ask me for any more coffee. I returned to filing until almost closing time, when Jill came back to my cubbyhole with a peculiar expression on her face.

“Senator Vanderventer wishes to speak with you,” she announced.

I didn’t say a word or blink an eyelash. Nodding as if senators regularly called me, I picked up the extension and waited pointedly for Jill to get her ass away
from my closet. With a scowl, she did, although I noticed she left the door partially open.

“Senator, how good to hear from you so soon,” I said in my best professional voice, before I got up and closed the door tightly.

“You didn’t answer your cell,” Max said with irritation. “What is this crap about Gloria getting it on with the pool boy? I’ll kill Andre myself.”

“I can’t take personal calls while on the job,” I chirped. “So this had better be business. If I were you, I’d delete the footage from the security cameras around the pool. Otherwise, did you want Gloria’s will, too?”

“Have you taken up mind reading? No, don’t answer that,” he said hastily. “Has the judge found it?”

“The judge wouldn’t know where to look if you shoved it up his ass. I scoured the files. There isn’t a will or any record of one being filed. That doesn’t mean there isn’t one somewhere else, just not here. I’m waiting for him to return. Want me to ask what he knows?”

“Yeah, or the next media blitz will be about the two families going at each other with axes, with me caught in the middle. Although I’m willing to cut Andre’s throat, too, if pressed. My father and sister are already moving in over there. They seem to think the place is theirs, since anything I inherit goes in the trust. When did Paddy come back to his senses?”

“When Gloria died would be the best answer.” Especially since I didn’t know if the gas attack had
anything to do with it. “The man’s no fool, just not willing to fight his own mother or the forces of evil. Be careful, Max. It may be hard to believe, but I’m thinking the devil walks this earth, and Acme is his playground.”

“That’s almost ridiculous enough to believe. Talk to Snodgrass. Have him call me. I can’t believe I have to fight my father and Dane’s at the same time. I really don’t need this right now.”

Technically speaking,
Max’s
grandmother, Ida Vanderventer, had inherited most of her husband’s share of Acme. Apparently Ida had been letting her son-in-law sit on the board in her place. Ex-senator Michael MacNeill loved throwing his considerable weight around, and he and Gloria had apparently worked hand in glove. Paddy and MacNeill? Probably not so much.

MacNeill could be right. Gloria might have left her shares to him instead of Paddy. Or not.

I could hear phones ringing and voices in the background while Max waited for my reply. Senators were busy men. I sighed with regret. Talking on the phone, where I couldn’t see his Dane disguise, was almost like having the old Max back.

“I’ll do what I can,” I promised. “I hope you have someone guarding Granny’s house, because you’ll have your family all over it shortly.”

“The place crawls with guards,” he said sardonically, “all of them looking after their own asses. Have the judge call me.”

He hung up abruptly, leaving me with an image of
all the black suits walking around, glancing over their shoulders at their pretty tushies. An amusing image, enough to leave a smile on my face when the judge entered.

“Clancy, I need to talk with you,” he thundered. He wasn’t a tall man, but he wielded enough stomach to give him an air of authority.

“Of course, sir. Do you want a report on Senator Vanderventer’s call, or should I just leave a message on your desk? It appears his grandmother hasn’t left a will, and there’s some consternation among the family.”

He frowned, diverted from his tirade. “Gloria refused to leave a copy in the office or let me file one. You mean to say she didn’t give a copy to anyone else, either?”

“Appears so, Your Honor. As I’m sure you’re aware, she’s not been entirely rational these past years.” It wouldn’t hurt to butter up Andre’s case while I was at it. “The family needs to know who is legally responsible for the upkeep of the estate and various enterprises.”

“Basic law, Clancy. Without a will, it’s her direct descendants, Padraig and Dane. I don’t remember her ever specifying anyone else. I’ll give them a call.” He went out shaking his head and muttering about giving millions of dollars to a crackpot who couldn’t comb his hair. I assumed that reference was to Paddy. Dane’s hair was never out of place.

My duty was done for the day. With my nose stuck higher than Reggie’s, I sailed out of the office and hit
the Harley. I really needed to see that my home was still safe. Somewhere along the way, the world outside the Zone had become alien to me. I needed the Zone’s eccentricities to keep me grounded and provide the security I’d lacked most of my life.

And yeah, that was pretty pathetic.

I
didn’t take time to eat after I got home from work but grabbed a handful of Nutribars and munched while shucking off my office clothes and changing into more functional jeans. I didn’t own an elaborate wardrobe and had opted for skirts for professional dress for years, but now that my leg was straight, jeans fit better than they used to.

I checked my tablet to see if any new rules had appeared, but Fat Chick’s message still scrolled across the screen.