Nothing But the Truth (14 page)

“I don’t know about that. The campaign’s just getting started. I can use all the help I can get.”

The room was full of old money Republicans, influential and well connected. Even at this early stage, Ryan was assured her party’s nomination, and winning the general election would be a breeze. Yet, Brett heard notes of sincerity in Ryan’s tone.
She doesn’t take success for granted. Mark one in the plus column.

“Are you here for the free food or cocktails?”

Brett stopped her mental tally of Ryan’s qualities. “I’m meeting someone.”

“I didn’t realize campaign events could morph into date nights.” Ryan’s delivery was deadpan, but Brett flashed back to the hint of flirtation she felt in Ryan’s office at the courthouse. Surely this staunch Republican heir to the conservative district attorney wasn’t baiting her with innuendo? Before she could fashion a response, Brett felt herself engulfed into someone’s arms. She knew by the scent exactly who it was.

“Brian! Let me go. This isn’t a touch football game. You’re wrinkling my jacket.” She detangled herself from her brother’s arms and held him at arm’s length. “Don’t you ever get tired of wearing Polo?” Brett saw the hurt flash in his eyes and she instantly regretted her playful remark. She hugged him close and kissed him on the forehead. He responded by tickling her sides and their embrace devolved into child play.

Watching their interaction, Ryan was beyond confused. The man’s name tag bore the same last name as Brett’s, and these two were obviously well acquainted. Were her Internet research conclusions that faulty? She had been certain Brett was a lesbian, but maybe she was just, what was the word the community used? An ally. That’s right, ally.

“Are you going to introduce me?” The man looked back and forth between Brett and Ryan. Brett complied. “Ryan Foster, meet Brian Logan. Wealthy Republican donor. Civil lawyer extraordinaire.” She slid her arm around his waist. “And my brother.”

Thank god
. Ryan didn’t pause to wonder about the strong sense of relief she experienced upon learning Brian didn’t have any romantic connection to Brett. She was still curious about why Brett was at this event.
Only one way to find out.
“And you? Are you here to steer your brother’s vote in the right direction?”

“I’m fairly certain we have very different perceptions as to what constitutes the right direction. I’m here in part to demonstrate tolerance, but mostly to hook up with a wealthy dinner date. Brian’s taking me to dinner after he’s done schmoozing with all you starched shirt types.”

Ryan wondered why Brett hadn’t just met Brian at the restaurant instead of here at this conservative love fest. Her reflection was interrupted by a question from Brian.

“I suppose you can’t ditch the other guests and join us for dinner? We’re going to Five Sixty.” He referred to Wolfgang Puck’s Dallas venture. Surely he was kidding. She couldn’t leave a room full of supporters with bottomless checkbooks, not even if it meant she got to have good face time with potential donors. She was torn. The invitation was tempting. And not because of any money Brian Logan might have at his disposal. She glanced at Brett who offered a smile before punching him in the arm. Brett’s words decided her fate for the evening.

“Brian, don’t be a goof. Ryan can’t leave. You’re not the only one here with funds for her campaign. She’s got some schmoozing to do.” Brett cast a sympathetic look in her direction. “We should get out of her hair.”

Ryan didn’t agree, but she nodded in contravention of her desire. She would love nothing more than to escape from the throngs of well-wishers staking their claims to her future administration. “She’s right. I’d love to join you, but I need to make the rounds. Rain check?” She faced Brian, but her words were directed at Brett.

As if she could read Ryan’s mind, Brett answered. “Absolutely.”

*

“She’ll make a fantastic district attorney. When’s the last time we had someone in that office fresh out of the courtroom?”

“She’s not fresh out of the courtroom, Brian. She works out of an office upstairs. Right next to Leonard Duncan’s. She hasn’t tried a case since I’ve been in that courthouse.”

“I thought I heard someone say she was getting ready for trial in a few weeks.”

Brett shrugged. “She is, but it’s the first one in a while. I’m not saying she doesn’t have skills. I would have no way of knowing whether she does or not. I’m just saying her skills might be a bit rusty.”

“Well, she’s devoted her whole life to prosecuting crime. I’d be happy to have her protecting our community.”

“Since when did you become so interested in the DA’s race?”

Brian leaned in. “This is top secret, okay?” Brett nodded. “Our firm is negotiating with Leonard to come on board and head up a white collar crime section.”

“And it wouldn’t hurt your future clients if the next elected DA was indebted to you and your new law partner?”

“You make it sound so sinister.”

“It is a little bit, don’t you think?” She didn’t like the thought of Ryan as a professional commodity.

“Come on, Brett. This is how business is done. Don’t tell me you haven’t picked up a thing or two about networking since you’ve been in private practice.”

Brett didn’t want to admit it, but she had. As much as she loathed attending pseudo social events, a few months into private practice she’d learned how necessary it was to professional survival. She had started out by placing a few ads in local publications and waited for the business to roll in. She quickly found that she was spending most of her time on the phone weeding through people who either had no money to pay her or didn’t even have a criminal law problem, but just wanted to talk to her about their various other woes. As a public defender, she had no need to solicit new business and even less concern about her client’s ability to pay for her services. Now that she had her own rent and salary to pay, in addition to Tony’s salary, she carefully cultivated networking relationships since personal referrals generated the most reliable source of income.

“Yes, dear brother. I know plenty about networking, but there’s a difference between developing relationships and paying for them.”

Brian shrugged. “Nothing illegal going on here. Just planting seeds. How they grow is out of my control.”

Brett didn’t agree, but she didn’t want to spoil dinner by engaging in an argument. Too much like work. She changed the subject. “Know anything about Ryan Foster besides her legal prowess?”

“Like what?”

“Like does she have family? Where did she grow up? What’s her favorite color?” She threw in the last for levity, but she found herself desperately wanting to know the answers to her other questions. What other family besides an aging aunt did Ryan have to rely on? Was she married, engaged? Was she a Dallas girl? The only question Brett didn’t ask herself was why she cared so much.

“I don’t know much. I think she grew up in Rockwall. Went to Harvard. Graduated top of her class. She probably had her choice of any cush job she wanted, but she took a position at the DA’s office and has worked there ever since.”

Brett nodded. No doubt Ryan had received offers from many top firms after graduation, all paying at least three times the starting salary for an assistant district attorney. While it wasn’t unusual for top grads to accept the lower paying positions to get trial experience, they tended to move on to higher paying careers within a few years. Ryan had not.

But Brian hadn’t answered the question she was most curious about. She gave up subtlety in favor of information. “So is she married?”

“No. Don’t think she ever has been. She’s pretty dedicated to her work. Not a lot of time for a personal life.”

Brett didn’t respond that he and John both worked demanding jobs but still found time for spouses and children. She hadn’t been able to make a personal relationship mesh with her dedication to her work. Interesting that Ryan appeared to have the same issue. Brett filed this fact away for future reference.

*

They might still be at the restaurant.
Ryan shoved the thought away and forced herself to steer her car directly home. The glad-handing at the fundraiser had zapped every last bit of her energy. She didn’t have the wherewithal to be social one minute longer. At least not if being social meant making idle chatter over food and cocktails, and she knew that was exactly what Brian Logan expected. She was well aware Brian was a partner at Logan, Lambert, and Johnson, and they were foaming in anticipation of Leonard joining their firm. They would support Leonard’s heir apparent even if it were Mickey Mouse.

Brett had plenty of reasons to kiss her ass too, but she’d already made it clear that wasn’t her style. Ryan found her approach refreshing. If Brett were at the restaurant alone she would join her without hesitation. But she wasn’t. Ryan was both relieved and disappointed.

Brett yawned. Dinner with Brian the night before had been a mistake. Tony rang her cell at six a.m. to remind her about the new client meeting, and it took every ounce of energy she had to resist falling back into the pillows. She had managed to drag her weary self into the office for the seven thirty meeting, charm the new clients, collect a healthy retainer, and now she was at the courthouse taking care of her morning docket. Days like today she wished she had a young associate she could send to take care of minor matters.

She filed the thought away and glanced at the task list on her BlackBerry. Most of her docket today consisted of announcement settings on misdemeanor cases, announcement being a misnomer. If she chose, all she had to do was show up, sign a pass slip, place in it in the court file, and she was done for the day. These settings were intended to be designated times for defense attorneys to discuss the cases set that day with the prosecutors in the court where the cases were assigned. Brett took advantage of this opportunity on most of her pending cases, but sometimes she was just buying time to allow her clients to decide if they wanted to set the case for trial or accept a plea agreement. Misdemeanor defendants generally didn’t have to appear until their case was set for some kind of disposition, so Brett didn’t have to rush from court to court to appease her various clients.

Today she was especially grateful for the slow pace. She managed to sign off on her cases by ten a.m. and decided to see if she could catch the grand jury prosecutor handling Ann Rawlings’s case. She didn’t hold out much hope of being able to dissuade whoever it was from presenting a charge at the grand jury setting scheduled for early the next week, but perhaps she could convince him or her to influence the grand jurors to consider a lesser charge.

Brett pushed the button for the eleventh floor and flashed back to her last trip to the top floor of the courthouse, the day before. She needed to talk to Ryan about Kenneth, but she really wanted to find out what Jake had managed to unearth before she did so. Hopefully, he would have some information later this afternoon. Kenneth’s mother had called her again this morning wanting to know when they could turn him in. Mrs. Phillips had even suggested taking Kenneth to the jail herself if he promised not to talk to the police before Brett could be present. Brett had given up trying to explain why that wouldn’t work. Kenneth could stand outside the jail confessing crimes all day long, but unless there was an active warrant directing the Dallas County Sheriff to take him into custody, he would remain a free man. She urged Mrs. Phillips to be patient and promised to call her later in the day with more information.

As Brett approached the intake desk, the grand jury secretary greeted her. “Hi, Brett, need to look at a file?” Joyce Grandon was the unrelenting gatekeeper of the files waiting to be heard by the grand jury. She received the reports from the various law enforcement agencies, made the files, and assigned the cases to the prosecutors in the intake division according to protocol. Defense attorneys were allowed limited access to the information in those files, and though the extent of the access was determined by the individual prosecutors, access to the prosecutors went through Joyce. If you treated her with respect, she would track down prosecutors and their files with dogged determination, but if you didn’t then you weren’t likely to know much about the facts of the case until after it was indicted. Brett accorded Joyce with the appropriate deference and enjoyed the rewards.

“Thanks, Joyce. It’s set next week. Defendant’s name is Ann Rawlings. Compelling prostitution.”

Joyce stood and made her way over to one of the many tall filing cabinets housing pending files. “Lady pimp, huh? Sounds like an interesting case.”

“I’m hoping to find out how interesting. Who’s presenting?”

“Let me see, looks like this one’s changed hands a couple of times.” Joyce glanced through the file. “Now that’s strange.”

Brett found herself leaning closer, over the counter. “What is it?”

Joyce hesitated as if she weren’t sure how much to reveal. “The presenting prosecutor is Cindy Laramie, but there’s a note on here that says for us to check with Ms. Foster before taking any action on the case.”

Brett pondered the meaning of the note. “Any action? Like even whether or not to present?”

Joyce looked over her shoulder before replying with a whisper, “That’s how I read it.” She read the note again. “Cindy has a standing order to let the defense attorney of record read the police reports in her files.”