Above The Law

CHAPTER 53

THE OTHER PATRONS AT WHO'S WHO NUDGED EACH OTHER AND stared at Casey. Paige, her big blonde mane radiating, glared around the deck until they dropped their prying eyes and the buzz of conversation recommenced. With a curt nod Paige grabbed hold of her burger with two hands and took a bite. The big diamond on her hand flashed, blinding Casey for a moment with a dash of sunlight.

After swallowing, Paige dabbed her lips and said, "Honey, I got one chit and one chit only, with Mrs. Cavanaugh. You telling me I need to use it?"

"I can't think of any way to get to her except through you," Casey said, sipping her Diet Coke. "Especially with everything going on."

"It's awful," Paige said before falling silent.

"I'm sure she's not keeping score," Casey said. "This isn't that big of a deal for her."

Paige shook her head violently. "When I stepped down at the Bovine Ball so her daughter could win that crown, she told me point-blank in the French Room Bar of the Adolphus Hotel and I'll never forget it, she said, 'You'll get one favor from me for this. Don't you dare ask for two.'"

"This isn't much of a favor."

"She's an old German," Paige said, wrinkling her nose. "Her husband is the Cavanaugh. One is one with her."

"I'm sorry," Casey said.

Paige patted her hand across the table. "No, don't be. I just wanted to make sure you really needed it, honey. You know there's nothing I wouldn't do. Especially now, with that so-called senator and don't even get me started about Taylor Jordan. He'll be passed over on some holiday parties if I have anything to do with it. You can believe that."

"Mandy Chase needs to know this is totally private," Casey said. "Everything is confidential. I'd like to talk with her in a little more detail about some of the things she told Jose."

Paige frowned and clutched Casey's hand again. "And I am so sorry about that. And me the one telling you to sleep with a Mexican, my God. The men last night after you left? My God, you should have heard them carry on about it when I told them I encouraged you. Told me we both got just what we asked for, and I'm supposed to be your friend."

Casey clamped her lips tight, stared at the table between them, and said nothing.

Paige sighed and finished her burger, urging Casey to at least take a bite from her own.

"I'm not really hungry," Casey said. She'd told Paige that before she ordered the sandwich, but her friend insisted on buying it anyway.

After wiping her mouth, Paige took out a small mirror and touched up her face before putting in a call to Mrs. Cavanaugh's personal assistant and arranging for an emergency meeting to discuss the favor.

Casey rode with Paige in her little green Aston Martin at Paige's insistence that it would look better when they arrived at the Cavanaughs' great stone mansion. A butler showed them into a sitting room with lush satin curtains and what looked like a genuine Renoir above a white marble fireplace. A maid brought them a silver tray with a pitcher of iced tea and small sandwiches, which they both simply looked at. It took another half an hour before a young woman came through the double doors in a pin-striped charcoal suit, tortoiseshell glasses, and her dark hair pulled into a tight bun.

Paige craned her neck to see into the hall. When the young woman closed the doors behind her, Paige frowned. The woman introduced herself as Shelly Frye, Mrs. Cavanaugh's personal assistant, and sat down across from them with her back to the broad windows overlooking the garden.

"You'll need to tell me exactly what it is you need from her," Shelly said, poising a Montblanc pen above her clipboard.

"I said on the phone," Paige said, thrusting out her chest so that it strained against the cream linen dress, "I'm here about the favor."

"Yes," Shelly said, blinking. "What favor? She'd like to know."

"The one favor she promised me in the French Room Bar at the Adolphus Hotel the afternoon before the Bovine Ball. She said not to ask for two, so this is the one. You can write that down."

"She'll still want to know what it is," Shelly said. "I'm sorry, that's my job."

"I'm sorry, she'll have to hear it from me," Paige said.

Shelly looked at Casey, but she gave away nothing.

"So," Shelly said, looking down at her pad, "the favor you want is to talk with her without telling her what the subject is."

"No," Paige said, her red nails digging into the embroidered armrest of her chair, "the favor isn't to talk to her. I want to talk to her about the favor."

"You'll have to make an appointment to do that," Shelly said, apologetically, but with great comfort. "She has a full schedule today."

Paige looked at the woman for a moment and Casey thought she heard a low growl from her friend's throat.

"Don't you even try to do this with me," Paige said, her voice lower and softer than before. "You go tell her I'm here to talk. You tell her that trashy little columnist from the Star has been after me for three years to confirm the rumor about that Bovine Ball and her daughter ending up with the Hunt fortune. You tell her I don't go back on my word, unless someone else goes back on theirs. Then you check her schedule."

Shelly peered at Paige for a moment through her dusty glasses before nodding and leaving the room. Paige exhaled and fanned her face and drank some tea.

"Wow," Casey said.

Paige set her glass down on the tray. "Damn right."

The door opened several minutes later and without looking at either of them Shelly said, "She'll see you, but you'll have to talk while she works."

Paige winked at Casey and without a word she raised her chin and followed the young woman out of the room, down a long hallway, and out into an elaborate circular rose garden. At the garden's center, a marble fountain cascaded like spring rain. Four arched trellises, thick with roses, marked the beginning of four separate paths extending from the center toward each point on the compass. The stout old Mrs. Cavanaugh wore a sun hat and heavy canvas gloves. She sat sideways on a small marble bench next to the eastern trellis while she snipped away at the buds surrounding a single yellow rose. When she saw them, she stood and opened her arms.

"Why, Paige, you darling girl," she said in a syrupy drawl. "It's so good to see you. I'm sorry Shelly kept you waiting like this, you never have to wait with me, darling. Next time you just tell her to make sure I know it's you."

Shelly kept her lips tight, but gave a final little bow and receded beyond the trellis they'd come through before snapping open her cell phone and going back to work.

"She tries so hard," the old woman said, shaking her head. "You don't mind if I keep working, do you, darling? I am so busy, you'd think I didn't have single servant, let alone two dozen."

Paige smiled sweetly. "You just do what you have to, Mrs. Cavanaugh. I wouldn't even bother you, but you were so kind once to offer me a favor if I ever needed one, and I do."

"Helping people is one of my great pleasures," the old woman said, intent on her work, twisting a stalk in her fingers and snipping a tiny bud. "It's nothing to do with your husband, I hope. Marriage is the work of God, you know."

"No, not that," Paige said. "This is my friend, Casey Jordan."

Mrs. Cavanaugh looked up at Casey as though she had appeared from thin air.

"Oh, hello, dear. Excuse me for not getting up. An old woman's prerogative."

"Not at all," Casey said.

"I don't know if you've heard about some of Casey's problems," Paige said. "Things in the news."

"Certainly not my business," Mrs. Cavanaugh said, returning her attention to the plant.

"I only say it because I want to ask you to arrange a meeting between Casey and the senator's wife," Paige said. "She needs to see her right away. This afternoon. I don't think anyone but you could do that."

The old woman shook her head, softly clucking her tongue. "I have very little influence over others."

"You're so highly respected, Mrs. Cavanaugh."

"Well," she said with a palsied nod that jiggled the wattle under her chin. "I'd be happy if I could do a favor for a friend. Let me see what I can do. If I am able to, would the meeting take place here?"

Paige looked at Casey and Casey shrugged, but held up two fingers, nodding before she changed to three fingers, shaking her head no.

"That would be fine," Paige said. "As long as the two of them could talk privately."

"I'm sure I won't want to be there," Mrs. Cavanaugh said, drawing herself up straight and touching her breastbone.

The old woman raised a finger so slightly and so quickly that Casey wasn't sure she'd done it at all until Shelly appeared.

"Get me Mandy Chase, dear," Mrs. Cavanaugh said, "and show our guests back to the Renoir room. I don't want them to have to stand in this heat."