Page 22 of The Best Lawyer
“My appearance is public record,” I said.
“Do you think your client is innocent?”
“Nice to meet you,” Eric said as he started packing up his equipment.
“We could work together, you know,” she said. “If your client is innocent, that means you need to find out who really killed Tom Loomis. I assume that’s why you’re here. I’ll admit it’s why I’m here. Running into you was a surprise. Or maybe it was fate.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said. “But I really do need to get going.”
She pulled out a business card and handed it to me. Her podcast name,Tallon of Justice,was printed on it in raised letters. Her logo had an eagle holding the scales of justice in one talon and a microphone in the other.
“I meant what I said; maybe we could help each other. If your client is innocent, nothing would make me happier than helping to prove it.”
“This case will be tried in court,” I said. “Not in the media or on your podcast.”
“I’ve asked around about you,” she said. “Everybody in town knows who you are. Or who your family is, anyway. There was a police report filed a few years ago. Your sister vandalized your client’s car?”
I bit my lip. When Vangie first found out Katy was cheating on Joe, she went a little feral against her. She dragged Emma into a lot of it. But that was eons ago. It bore no relevance to today.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not your story.”
“Oh, I think you’re wrong. You’re kind of the hook right now. I mean, some people might assume you’d have a motive to tank your own client’s defense. She jilted your brother for the murder victim, didn’t she?”
“We’re done here,” I said, trying to keep my rising anger in check. I could not let this thing get away from me before it even started. I got into the car. Eric came around to the driver’s side and got in. Tallon with two Ls boldly leaned into my window.
“It was nice to meet you,” she said. “I promise I’m not trying to stir trouble. We could be allies. Truly. I just want the truth. ButI am curious about your brother. Clearly, he has to be on board with you representing his ex. Is he the one who encouraged you to take the case?”
I steadied my breath. My Leary temper started to bubble. Eric put a hand on my arm.
“I assume he had an alibi,” she said. “Otherwise you’d never get involved in something like this, right?”
I rolled up my window and resisted the urge to flip a middle finger.
“I just want to make sure everyone involved does their job,” she said. “And I’m sure we’ll see each other again. There’s a lot of interest in this case. You’ll have your work cut out for you from what I hear.”
Eric started the engine and slowly moved forward along the spiraling gravel road leading to the cemetery’s exit. Tallon stood there with her hand held up in a stationary wave.
“Interesting kid,” Eric said.
“She’s got some brass balls on her,” I said. “I’ll give her that.”
Eric made the turn toward Finn Lake. “She’s fishing. Trying to get some reaction out of you. Playing gotcha for her little podcast. But … at the moment, she’s heading down the same path we are. Trying to get to know the victim.”
“He’s more of an enigma than I realized. I think it’s worth a trip to Detroit to talk to Tom’s previous employers. And the ones here. If, God forbid, something happened to you, this cemetery would be packed. Where are all his people? That down there looked like people making an appearance. Not anyone who cared much that they were burying him.”
“You’re thinking like a detective, Cass. That’s supposed to be my job.”
“We have to catch a killer,” I said.
And we did. Even if it was my own client.
Chapter 9
Three weeks later,I finally had responses to my subpoenas of Tom Loomis’s personnel records at WLAN-7 here in Woodbridge County and WDTN in Detroit. They yielded one substantially promising lead that brought me back to see Katy and another that sent Eric on a two-day field trip. I was still waiting to hear back from him.
I met Katy in the lawyer’s room at the county jail. Mercifully, she hadn’t been required to wear cuffs or leg irons but that didn’t make her appearance any less shocking. After six weeks in jail, she had an inch of gray roots showing under her bleach-blonde hair. Her skin broke out and her lips were cracked and chapped. She saw me notice.
“Could be worse.” She smiled. “A lot of the women here are detoxing. Their withdrawal symptoms keep all of us up at night. My cellmate picks her skin. Turns out I was only addicted to lip balm.”
