Above The Law

CHAPTER 31

THE CAST-IRON GATES CLANGED OPEN AND CASEY LET THE BENZ roll through between the fieldstone pillars of medieval proportions. The house, centered on a ten-acre rise in an oval hilltop of grass, dwarfed even the gates. The dome over the central body had been shipped in pieces from a Bulgarian church. That and the three-story fluted columns always made Casey think of the US Capitol building. Luddy had inherited it all from his mother's side and the house, Grace Manor, bore his grandmother's name.

More than a dozen cars hugged the low wall of the circular fountain in front-Jaguars, Mercedeses, two Rolls-Royce sedans-and Casey grimaced at her watch. Cobblestones rumbled beneath her as she sped up the hill and into the circle, where she screeched to a halt and jumped out. With her car blocking the drive, she threw her keys on the seat before dashing up the steps.

A stiff-faced butler led her through the house and into the garden, where the crowd twittered and buzzed beneath a white tent hemmed in by fragrant yellow roses. Notes from a string quartet floated on a merciful breeze and Casey could see the glaze of sweat on her friend's pink cheeks despite the cool glass of champagne that she sipped disinterestedly.

"I am so sorry," Casey said, bussing her friend's cheek.

"Pish," Paige said, indirectly announcing Casey's arrival in her most Southern and charming way, "a working girl like you? We're all jealous as high school lovers, just wishing we didn't have all that we got going on so we could be in the trenches with you, honey. Come right here, you beautiful thing. Too hot for tea after all, and I decided all on my own to break right into the back of Luddy's cellar. Sissy? Here she is, darling."

Paige floated through them, a butterfly flickering, pollinating, and sipping up their contributions like nectar with Casey in tow. Casey let her speech lilt into the drawl of forgotten balls and fetes from another life. Stacy's skeptical face and her expression, "You make me vomit," came into Casey's mind, but she smiled the smile of a grateful beneficiary, shaking the hand of a woman old enough that she wore white gloves and a hat with both a netted veil and flowers.

From Chase's wife, Mandy, Casey received no more than a vacant stare and a forced half-smile that left Paige's fingers in a vise around her wrist as she dragged Casey on to the next woman, whispering hotly in her ear that Mandy was the most extraordinary bitch she'd ever shared a back lawn with. Casey glanced back at the tall blonde in the bright red dress, standing out like a hooker in a girls' choir, and wondered if the woman had the same surgeon as Paige.

Before they'd finished, Casey realized the glass of champagne Paige had armed her with had been emptied and refilled twice, brightening Casey's appreciation of the sights, sounds, smells, and money that the tea party had provided.

Paige finally sat her down in a white rattan love seat before bringing two fresh glasses and resting her own feet beside her, fanning herself with a sigh.

"Honey, you are just a charm," Paige said.

"I didn't do a thing."

"Oh, pish, all that habeas corpus and right-to-appeal jargon? They loved it. They just loved it. You made my job easy."

"You are so good," Casey said, touching her arm.

"It's the least," Paige said, sipping her champagne and shaking her head, "the very least."

"Oh, God," Casey said, jumping up. "I'll be back. There she goes."

Looking past the table piled high with dainty sandwiches, Casey just caught the flash of red as Mandy Chase slipped into the house, deserting the party with no respect for convention. Casey stumbled on the walk, her heel catching between two flagstones and breaking off. She heard someone behind her offer up a little gasp from beneath the tent, but paid no mind, churning ahead on one shoe and kicking it off somewhere near the fireplace as she shot through the house.

Mandy Chase had just given up trying to get around Casey's beat-up Benz blocking the circle and began to carefully back the white Range Rover out. Casey closed the distance and patted the window. The senator's wife jammed on her brakes and jerked her head around, covering her mouth in astonished fright before glowering at Casey and running the window down.

"I could have killed you," Mandy Chase said.

"I'm sorry," Casey said. "I wanted to talk to you."

Mandy raised her chin. "I'm late for an appointment. You met me. My husband will send whatever kind of funding Colby James asks him to send. You should know how this works. Now, you'll have to excuse me."

Mandy gripped the wheel and swung her head back over her shoulder.

"Wait," Casey said, walking quickly as the SUV began to roll back. "I have to talk to you about Elijandro Torres."

This time, Mandy's shocked look was coupled with a stomp on the gas. She spun the wheel and backed right onto the lawn. Casey kept up, hanging on to the window frame, even as Mandy slammed the Range Rover into drive.

"I know you were sleeping with him," Casey said, raising her voice above the engine.

"Go to hell," Mandy said, her face twisted with rage.

She swatted Casey's hand like a fly, then beat it with her fist, pounding the fingers. Casey cried out, let go, and cursed as the Range Rover shot off down the driveway and disappeared through the gates.