48

TOM CONCANNON POKED HIS HEAD INTO CONNOR’S OFFICE. “GOT A minute?”

Connor was trying to finish a letter before a meeting with Julian Clayton in twenty minutes, but he wasn’t about to brush off his main defender at the firm. “Sure. I’ve got as many as you want.”

Tom walked in and sat in one of Connor’s guest chairs, resting his right ankle on his left knee. “I hear Judge Bovarnick gave you a hard time.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t much fun. But at the end of the hearing she basically just ordered me to do the proof of service differently if we want to file a new withdrawal motion.”

Tom nodded sympathetically. “She likes to jerk big firm lawyers around. Don’t let it get to you.”

“Thanks.”

“So, how does she want the proof done differently?”

“Well, that’s the awkward part. She wants me to serve an officer of Devil to Pay. She also wants me to file a declaration saying who that is, when I talked to them about withdrawing, and what I said.”

Tom shrugged. “Why is that awkward?”

“Because Allie is the only officer.”

“So?”

“That would mean outing Allie. Her whistleblowing career is probably over already, but if we connect her name to Devil to Pay, she’ll have much bigger problems. There are lots of people who would love to make life hard for whoever is behind Devil to Pay. She’ll have trouble ever getting a job again. She might even be in danger.”

Tom sighed. “Connor, your loyalty to your client is admirable, but it’s not mutual. Remember that. If Allie hadn’t betrayed you, we wouldn’t be in this situation. Besides, didn’t she already go into hiding on some Caribbean island? Let her stay there.”

Connor shifted in his seat and looked at his hands. “I still don’t like it.”

Tom uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “Like it or not, we don’t have a choice. We’ve got an ethical duty to withdraw, and we’ve been ordered to put Allie’s name on the proof when we do—so that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

Connor’s phone rang.

Tom glanced at it. “Do you need to get that?”

Connor looked at the caller ID screen. “It’s reception. I think I’ve got someone waiting, but he’s early. I can leave him in the lobby while we finish talking.”

Tom got up. “We’re finished. By the way, I’d like to look over the new withdrawal papers before they’re filed. Could you shoot me a draft by the end of the week?”

So Tom was going to start reviewing his filings. Ouch. “No problem.”

He turned and picked up the phone as Tom walked out. “Hello.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Norman. There’s a Mr. Clayton here to see you.”

“On my way.”

Five minutes later, he and Julian were in one of the firm’s small conference rooms, chatting about football. This was a business meeting, but Connor found himself reluctant to move past small talk and socializing. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was for simple conversation with a friend he knew he could trust.

At last, Julian said, “We’ve already confirmed that Allie didn’t steal from you or your family. Was there anything else you wanted me to do?”

“There is. I’d like you to look into whether Allie and her boyfriend may have been involved in the death of a kid who overdosed from meth. I’m sorry I can’t give you more details, but—” Julian was nodding and his mouth was drawn tight. “What? You already know something about this?”

Julian sucked in a breath through his nostrils and let it out. “I do, and it’s been bothering me for a while.” He paused and looked at Connor for a long moment. “Can I ask your advice?”

“Sure. As a lawyer or a friend?”

“Both.”

Connor felt queasy about where this was headed. “Okay, go ahead.”

“I’ve always kept my investigations confidential, but I don’t think I can keep sitting on this. When you referred Allie to me, she asked me to investigate the death of a teenage boy named Jason Tompkins. He died of a meth overdose in Salina, Kansas, on May third. Allie’s boyfriend sold him the meth, and Allie was there when the meth sale happened.”

“She told me basically the same thing, but without the details. What happened next?”

“I asked her to go to the police. A young man was dead and her boyfriend was still dealing.”

“How did she respond?”

“She told me to mind my own business, and I told her I was going to give her a chance to do the right thing. The next thing I knew she’d run away to the Bahamas.”

Connor smiled bitterly. The prospect of blowing her cover bothered him less than it had a few minutes ago. “Sounds like our girl. So, is that what you want advice on? Are you thinking of going to the police yourself?”

Julian nodded.

Connor stared out the window. It was hard to believe just how badly he had misread her. A month ago she had been Qui Tam Girl, the undercover fraud-fighting hero—and he had been her partner, Lawyer Boy. His face grew hot, and he clenched his jaws.

He forced himself to focus on Julian’s question. “I don’t know much about the law governing private detectives, but I’d be surprised if there’s anything that forces you to keep your mouth shut if you come across evidence that could lead to the capture of a dangerous criminal.” He paused, unsure of whether to go on. But anger and humiliation won out over caution. “And if you’re uncomfortable telling the police yourself, I’ll do it the second I’m not her lawyer.”

The conference room phone rang before Julian could respond. It was reception again. Connor picked it up. “Hello, Connor Norman.”

“Hi, Connor. There’s a Ms. Allison Whitman here to see you.”