Page 80 of The Best Lawyer
“Cass …”
“No,” I said. Though I didn’t step out from behind Eric, my temper rose. “This wasn’t a whim. I didn’t get in my car and spend the last few hours driving all the way up here to have agun waved in my face. Your wife told us to come. So if she doesn’t want to talk to me now, let her tell me herself.”
“Cass!” Eric barked. He grabbed me by the arm. “We’re leaving.”
“Damn right you are,” Altman said.
In the back of my mind, I knew Eric was right. No good could come from escalating the situation. And yet, I was at the end of my rope in every sense.
Eric practically dragged me back to the car and deposited me in the passenger seat. He came around to the driver’s side, got in, and slammed the door. He shoved the car into reverse and backed up at high speed in a straight line, cop-style, then kicked up a cloud of dust as he maneuvered us back onto the road.
“I’m gonna kill her,” I said, punching a fist into the dashboard. “Are you kidding me? This is how our day goes? She couldn’t have called Emma back?”
Eric didn’t respond. His jaw bulged, he clenched it so hard. I didn’t know if he was angry at me or at the Altmans. Probably both. But he kept on driving, going over sixty along the pockmarked dirt road. I think he hit every dip, causing my teeth to rattle. Finally, he made the turn onto pavement. We went another two miles before hitting one of the main drags heading to the highway.
He came to a four-way stop, arriving first. But he didn’t move. Instead, he waved off every other car. One honked at him, earning Eric’s middle finger.
“Why aren’t you moving?” I asked. Eric’s eyes were fixed on the rearview mirror. I turned back to see what he was looking for. I didn’t see anything. The intersection was at the bottom of a hill.
“Eric?”
No answer. He just kept staring at the mirror, his eyes blazing. Finally, another thirty seconds went by. A rusted-out blue Honda crested the hill. We were now the only other vehicle at the four-way. Eric slammed on the gas and sped through the intersection. He then made a sharp right turn at the next cross street. I had to brace myself on the dashboard. My seatbelt went taut, pressing me back against the seat.
He pulled into a gas station. We had over half a tank. A minute later, the blue Honda pulled in. Eric slid into a parking space in front of the attached convenience store and turned off the ignition. The Honda pulled into the space next to us.
“Wait here,” he said.
“But…” I looked over. There was a woman behind the wheel. She was small. Disheveled. And when Eric approached her, she rolled down her window, allowing him to lean in.
“What in the …” I unsnapped my seatbelt, about to ignore Eric’s instructions. Before I could open the door, the woman opened hers. Eric turned and opened the passenger door behind me. The woman got in.
“Maisy,” I said.
She was pretty, with fine features and a generous mouth. She wore a faded blue cashmere cardigan and a white blouse with a lace collar.
Eric climbed back behind the wheel. “I noticed her following us about a mile after we pulled out of her driveway. I had a hunch.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Leon is pretty protective of me. I shouldhave told that lady who works for you not to have you come to the house.”
“Thanks for that,” I said, unable to hide my sarcasm.
“Please don’t blame him. His heart is in the right place. Without Leon, I really don’t know where I’d be. He helped me straighten myself out.”
“Okay,” I said. “You’re here. Can I assume that means you’re willing to answer some tough questions?”
“Yes.”
“And you know why I’m asking?”
She carried a giant brown purse. She pulled it off her lap and rested it on the seat beside her.
“You want to know about Tom. That’s why Leon is so upset. He doesn’t trust cops.”
“We’re not the cops,” Eric said.
She gave him an exasperated look. “But you’re the closest thing. My husband thinks you’re going to force me to come to court and talk about things that might trigger me. Are you? Forcing me to come to court?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “For now, I just wanted to talk to you.”
