Blood Money

Chapter Eighteen

Jack met Andie the following morning in Miami Gardens, a short ride away from the FBI’s Miami field office. Andie didn’t want a meeting at the office. Over the years, Jack had done legal work for the St. Thomas University Center for Justice and Peace, and he’d spent enough time on campus to remember that the coffee at the book center was drinkable. They each grabbed a cup and a bagel and walked across the parking lot to the baseball diamond, where a travel team was practicing. Alone in the bleachers behind home plate, they could talk freely.

Jack had left a message for Andie immediately after the call from his attacker. It had taken another phone call and two text messages to get a callback, which told him either that she was really mad at him, or that something big was in the works.

“I’m going undercover again,” she said.

Something big-which explained her hypersensitivity about the publicity over the Sydney Bennett case. But it didn’t rule out the possibility that she was also mad.

“When?” he asked.

“You know I can’t tell you that. But soon.”

The ping of an aluminum bat sounded on the other side of the batting cage. The baseball team was fielding ground balls. Jack watched, working on a chewy bagel. He was reluctant to ask, but he needed to know.

“Is this in response to the threat?”

Andie seemed put off by the insinuation. “Are you asking if I’m going undercover to run away from the man who attacked you?”

Hearing Andie rephrase it made the question sound insulting. “Sorry,” said Jack. “I asked only because you were the one who immediately thought that the threat against ‘someone you love’ meant you.”

“It has nothing to do with that. This assignment has been in the works for months.”

Jack’s attention turned briefly to the infielders, then back to Andie. “So. . where does this leave us?”

“We’ll be fine,” she said.

He smiled a little. “Does that mean I’m off the FBI’s ten most unwanted list?”

She returned the smile, more with her eyes. “You’re such a goofball. Yes, you’re off the list. Or at least out of the top ten.”

“So you still love me?”

She gave him a little kiss. “Yes, I love you. Even though I was right.”

Jack knew it wouldn’t be simple. “Right about what?”

“That photograph of us walking out of the emergency room. It took less than eight hours for it to show up on the Internet.”

“True. But you’re barely recognizable. Obviously, the bureau doesn’t think it’s an issue if they’re sending you back undercover.”

“We got lucky. This time.”

Jack drank his coffee, watched the infielders turn a double play. There was more to sort out. “Who will be my contact at the FBI when you go undercover? It’s clear I haven’t heard the last from this guy.”

“Until I’m reassigned, the contact is still me. Then it will be up to the assistant special agent in charge. Depending on how this plays out in the short term, it’s possible that the bureau will defer to local police. In that case, you would follow up with Detective Rivera.”

“Rivera?” Jack said, uneasy. “I’m not so keen on that guy.”

“He has an excellent reputation.”

“Do you agree with him? Celeste and I were victims of the same attacker?”

“Yes. Our forensic experts were already leaning that way based on the comparison of your photos to her bruises. Last night’s call removes all doubt. He attacked Celeste thinking she was Sydney. Now he’s after you to get to Sydney.”

“What’s the plan when he calls me again?”

“I wish you would listen to me and let us tap your phone.”

“I’m not going down that road. Mr. Shake-Hands-with-My-Throat has already hacked into my old phone.”

“What do you mean your ‘old’ phone?”

“I’m picking up a new one in an hour. I’ll text you the new number.”

“And exactly what is your plan to stop this guy from hacking into your new phone?”

“I’m meeting with a spyware expert to sort that out.”

“You’re going to pay a private spyware expert instead of trusting me?”

“It’s not a matter of trusting you. Just on general principle, a criminal defense lawyer doesn’t need the FBI checking out his address book and examining his call history, let alone tapping his phone conversations.”

“Well, you’ve already had one trip to the emergency room. Maybe you should reconsider.”

“I might if you were the only one involved. But I’m not going to share my line with any old agent in the FBI. And I’m definitely not sharing it with Detective Rivera.”

“I told you, Rivera’s a good guy.”

“Call it defense lawyer’s intuition. He’s got an ax to grind. He doesn’t even return my phone calls.”

Andie dug her cell from her purse. “I’ll take care of that right now,” she said, dialing.

“Don’t,” said Jack, but it was too late. Andie already had the detective on the line. Jack heard one side of the conversation as she gave Rivera the FBI lecture on the importance of communication with victims. A minute later, she put the phone on speaker and laid it on the bleacher seat between them. “Rivera has an update,” she told Jack. “Go ahead, Detective.”

“I had a very interesting heart-to-heart with Celeste’s friend this morning,” said Rivera, his voice a bit tinny on the speaker.

“You mean Celeste’s roommate?” asked Andie.

“Yeah. The girl who went to the detention center with her on the night of Sydney Bennett’s release. Her story has completely unraveled.”

“How so?”

“She told Faith Corso on the air that she and Celeste had just come from a Sydney Bennett look-alike contest at Club Vertigo on South Beach. We called the club manager. It turns out that the contest was canceled. Never happened.”

Jack and Andie exchanged glances. Andie followed up with the detective: “Why would she lie about that?”

“She was covering for her friend,” said Rivera.

“Covering up what?” asked Andie.

“It took me a while to get it out of her, but she finally admitted it this morning. Despite all the accusations that BNN reporters were making things up, it turns out that somebody did, in fact, hire Celeste Laramore to go to the women’s detention center that night.”

“Hire her-why?” asked Andie.

“Celeste’s friend doesn’t know why,” said Rivera, “but it’s at least plausible that it’s just like BNN reported it. Celeste got paid a thousand bucks to show up and make people think she was Sydney Bennett. She was a diversion to stir things up and draw the crowd’s attention so that Sydney could slip away.”

“That’s just not true,” said Jack.

Andie gestured, telling Jack to stay out of it. Then she put another question to Rivera: “Did Celeste’s friend tell you who put up the money?”

“She doesn’t know, and we’re still trying to find out. Mr. Swyteck, you got any ideas?”

“I told you it’s not true,” said Jack.

“Don’t get defensive,” said Rivera. “I didn’t accuse you. I asked if you had any idea who might have done it.”

Again, Jack’s first thought was the man who had met Sydney at Opa-locka Executive Airport. But he still didn’t trust Rivera. “No, I don’t have any leads,” said Jack.

“Well, if any names come to mind, you be sure to let us know.”

“Will do,” Jack said.

Rivera had to take another call, so Andie thanked him and hung up. Jack was thinking about his case against BNN, but even his best poker face couldn’t stop Andie from reading his mind.

“You already told the Laramores that you would take their case, didn’t you?” Her question sounded more like a statement.

“Yes, I did.”

“You seriously plan to sue BNN?”

“Yup.”

Andie tucked her phone into her purse, then gave him a troubled look. “You like the publicity, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

She glanced toward the playing field, as if measuring her words, then looked right at Jack. “When we got engaged, you weren’t such a publicity hound. Tell me what’s going on?”

“Andie, this isn’t about the publicity.”

“Don’t kid yourself. If it weren’t about the publicity, you would have done the legwork, just like Rivera did. You would have talked to Celeste Laramore’s friend and realized that this is not a good case.”

“Hannah did call her. She wouldn’t talk to us.”

“Didn’t that tell you something?”

“Yeah, it tells me I need to file a lawsuit so I can get a subpoena issued and take her deposition. That truth is, it doesn’t matter if Celeste was hired to be a Sydney Bennett look-alike. The fact that she voluntarily put herself into an angry crowd might be an issue if we sue the correctional facility for providing inadequate security, but it doesn’t excuse what BNN did to her after she got hurt.”

“Exactly what did BNN do?”

“I can’t get into details. The judge issued a gag order before we could even file the complaint-which should only prove to you that I’m not doing this case for the publicity.”

“Fine. It’s not about publicity. The real issue-like always-is the clients you choose to represent.”

“Are you comparing Celeste Laramore to accused criminals now?”

“No. But Celeste obviously has something to hide. Don’t you think you should know her secrets before you haul off and file a lawsuit against one of the biggest media companies in the world?”

“You’re not hearing me, Andie. For purposes of our claim against BNN, it wouldn’t matter if Celeste Laramore had gone to that parking lot to set the building on fire and steal a getaway car. Once she got hurt, BNN had no right to interfere with her getting the medical treatment she needed.”

“Well, you’re the lawyer. But this can’t help your case.”

“There’s no such thing as a perfect client. Unless you’re a probate lawyer.”

“I just don’t want you to end up looking foolish.”

“If I tried to unravel every surprise before filing a lawsuit, I’d never file a lawsuit.”

“I’m not talking about every surprise. Damn it, Jack. Do you think it’s fun for me to turn on the television and watch the commentators make fun of you? I’ve never told you this, but every time Faith Corso blasts you, I get e-mails from other agents. The last one came from the head of our public-corruption unit and said something like ‘Looks like “MISTER Andie Henning” stepped in it again.’”

“Cop humor,” said Jack. “Lovely.”

“Fine. Dismiss it. But I don’t see why you can’t at least check this out before you file.”

Jack was already committed to the case, but there was no need to be a cowboy, even when trying to help a twenty-year-old college student in a coma. This was going to be a very public fight, and a little more sensitivity to the impact on the people in his life wasn’t too much for Andie to ask. “All right. It can’t hurt to make one more run at Celeste’s roommate before the complaint is filed,” he said as he dialed Hannah’s number.

“You’re suing BNN today?”

“And Faith Corso.”

“Oh, my God,” Andie said, groaning.

Hannah was on the line. She was riding in an open convertible, yelling into her cell above the wind noise, which forced Jack to hold the phone a comfortable distance from his ear, even if it did mean that Andie could overhear. “I was just about to call you with an update,” Hannah shouted.

“Has the complaint been filed yet?” asked Jack.

“Yessiree. Filed under seal this morning at nine-oh-five. BNN was served at nine thirty.”

Jack was silent.

“Jack?” said Hannah. “Are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Is everything okay?”

Jack looked at Andie. The glare she shot back at him could have melted steel. Professionally speaking, he was perfectly fine with letting the lawsuit go forward. The question was how to deal with the personal reality that his fiancee clearly wasn’t.

“Yeah,” Jack said into the phone. “Everything is just dandy.”