“Yeah, okay. That’s a good point.” Another hot flash of anger hits me. “If you had kept on trusting me, yeah, we’d still be here at trial, and I’d still be trying to keep your brother out of prison, but you know what would be different? I wouldn’t be trying to keepyourstupid, stubborn ass out of prison, too.”
Emily looks away again, reaching up to wipe at her eyes.
“You’re right,” she sighs. “And I know that you’re right. And I think that’s part of…” Another sigh. “Ihatethat you’re right.”
“Yeah. Me too.” With effort, I keep my voice neutral, but now it’s my turn to look away. It’s much harder to keep the emotions off my face.
“I’m sorry, Gabriel.” Tentative fingers touch my back, and the rest of her hand settles there once she’s sure I won’t jerk away. “I know I made a mess of things. I’ve jeopardized everything that you’ve been working toward, and I’m so sorry. But I couldn’t risk Frank. I’d rather gamble with my own life than with someone else’s. Especially someone that I love.”
Love. What a word, especially from her lips. Even if she’s talking about someone who isn’t me. Again I touch my forehead to the cool glass of the window, and when I close my eyes all I can think about is her lips, and how much I miss them.
“I’ll talk to Mark, for you.” Her hand makes small circles just below my shoulder blade. “Is there anything else you need?”
Yes. God, yes. I need you!
“No,” I say, my voice wooden and dull.
“Okay. I have something for you.”
Emily’s hand leaves my back, and at a rustling sound behind me I turn to see her digging in her bag. She emerges with a large, thick envelope.
“Rita came through for us.” She gives me just the smallest, faintest ghost of a smile. “Well, foryou, I guess. Not us. Not anymore.”
“What’s this?” I take the envelope in nerveless fingers, but I’m unwilling to look away from her face yet.
“It’s… y’know, it’s complicated.” Emily sighs, and the ghost fades. “There’s notes inside that will explain everything fully, but the short version is this: I know I can’t undo things, and I don’t know how to make themright. This is an apology, though, and I hope that it will at least make thingsbetter.”
For a long moment she stands silently looking at me. Her hands twitch and tremble as if they want to reach out to me, threatening to break free and act on their own. I almost wish they would, just so I could feel her touch again, but Emily takes a step backwards and folds them behind her back.
“Goodbye, Gabriel.”
For the second time, now, I let her say goodbye and walk away, and yet again I don’t trust my own feelings enough to say anything. I’m making progress, though: at least this time I didn’t turn my back on her.
The phone in my pocket vibrates again. I’m glad of the distraction, until I pull it out and see who’s calling: nope, I still don’t want to talk to you, Whitehall. One touch of a button and he’s sent straight to voicemail, just like he has been the last five times that he’s called.
The hall window overlooks the courthouse parking lot, where the Channel 6 crew up from Miami is packing away their camera. I bet you guys won’t be the only ones here, come tomorrow. The second act of my career implosion will likely be carried live on all the networks.
My phone vibrates again. Not a ring, just a single buzz, an alert tone letting me know that I’ve gotten a voicemail. Several of them, in fact. All from Whitehall.
“Cooper, what the fuck are you doing? You’d better shut this crap down and put that punk-ass kid away. You’re making some folksveryunhappy right now, and they’re makingmeunhappy.”
Yeah, I just bet you’re unhappy. You’ll feel better tomorrow when you get to fire me, though. Next message.
“Answer your goddamn phone, Cooper! You were supposed to have a guilty verdict on that Wilson kid already, but instead I’ve got reporters callingmy fucking officeasking me about Robert Ferry! You need to shut this down. Get that damn kid put away and get them to stop talking about Ferry!”
Christ, Whitehall, I wish this was over with, too. Sighing, I open up Emily’s envelope and pull out the stapled-together sheets inside. Next message.
“Cooper, you know the old saying about how shit rolls downhill? It’s true, and it picks up speed. And if I have to take any more of it from… never mind who from. But it’s going to pick up alotof speed by the time it gets to you. You’re finished. You’re done with the law. I’m going to have you disbarred. I don’t know what you’re getting out of letting this Wilson kid’s attorney walk all the hell over you, but I hope it’s worth it!”
Will it be worth it? Johnny boy, I’ll be unemployed and unemployable. No book deals for me out of this case. I’m going to be the prosecutor who folded on national television and…
Holy shit.
The words on the sheet of paper in front of me have finally registered.
Emily’s notes trace out, step by step by carefully researched and fully documented step, the financial connection between Robert Ferry and John Whitehall.
There’s- Christ almighty! There’s pages and pages of contributions listed here, totaling up millions of dollars. If I can verify this stuff quickly enough…
Where the hell is Philip, anyway? What’s taking him so long. I need to get him started on that subpoena. I have so many pieces left to put into place before tomorrow morning, and I’m going to need a lot of luck to have them all land in the right places.
Whitehall, you slimy sonofabitch. You stepped in it this time, getting stupid enough to leave me those voicemails.
I grin again, flipping through Emily’s notes one more time.
Yeah, I definitely tied a noose today and handed it to the executioner. I just never expected it was going to go around anyone’s neck but mine.
* * *
