Guilt By Degrees

85

In the next few days, Bailey and I had lots of reporting and updating to do with our own, and each other’s, bureaucracies. How it happened, why it happened, what we were doing in that place. I must’ve repeated the same information about a hundred times.

But there was one thing Bailey and I had agreed to keep to ourselves: the evidence we’d gotten from Diane Nguyen.

We’d talked about it the following morning.

These people-Lilah’s minions-might not be pros, but they weren’t stupid. They’d know that once the evidence left our hands, there was no point in killing either of us, and they’d disappear. Now that Simon’s case had gone public-and the shoot-out had ensured it got plenty of coverage-they’d expect to see some mention of the evidence we’d found at the women’s shelter. If we kept it all quiet, there was a chance they’d think that it wasn’t the evidence of Tran’s hit-and-run. Or that it was, and we didn’t realize what we had. Either way, it might encourage them to stick around, which would buy us time to come up with a plan to find Lilah and her attack dogs and put them down before they got us.

In the meantime, I was hell-bent on finding out who had leaked Simon’s story to the press. It may’ve been irrational-maybe I just needed someone to blame for the tragedy of Gary’s death-but I believed that the story coming out had set Lilah off. True, I’d been attacked previously, but it clearly wasn’t meant to be lethal. The attack in Venice, on the other hand, was intended to be nothing else. I had to know who to blame. Then I’d figure out what to do to that filthy cretin.

At my insistence, Bailey worked her office while I worked mine. Eric had no idea who might’ve leaked and he hadn’t seen Melia talking to any reporters. When I asked her directly, she denied it with a look sour enough to tell me she wished she’d had the information to give and was pissed at having been left out of the loop to begin with. Toni’d carefully asked around, but she too had come up empty. After a few days, Bailey admitted defeat.

I refused to give up.

I continued to dig around for clues, but ultimately the mystery was solved by a more direct source. I got a call from Miles Rykoff, a reporter for the Times. Now that the case was public, so was my involvement. He wanted an exclusive, or at least a heads-up when something big was going to break. I saw my chance.

“Tell you what,” I said. “I’m not allowed to promise exclusives, but you’ll be my first call on everything that happens in this case-”

Miles sighed. “What do you want?”

“The name of the person who leaked the story.”

A long silence told me he knew.

“No name, no favors,” I said.

“You never heard this from me-”

“Duh, Miles.” The disclaimer was expected. His answer wasn’t.

“Brandon Averill.”

“That despicable piece of dung,” Bailey said. “But it figures, doesn’t it?”

I nodded, still bitter. I hadn’t yet figured out how I’d exact revenge, but I would eventually. I wanted to make sure I hit him where it would hurt the most.

Bailey refilled our glasses with our latest discovery: Adastra Proximus Pinot Noir.

In part to celebrate the revelation that Brandon Averill was the leak-and in part just to take a needed break-we’d decided to hit Checkers for dinner.

“But so totally in character.” I sipped the wine appreciatively.

“What’re you planning?”

“Don’t know yet.” There was a special place in hell for bottom-feeding assholes like Brandon, but I didn’t want to trust this payback to otherworldly powers. This one was mine. But I wouldn’t act in haste. I’d wait and keep my eyes open for the right opportunity. I knew it’d come eventually.

“Isn’t this the scene of the crime?” Bailey asked. “Where you and Daniel had your romantic dinner.”

“It wasn’t romantic,” I protested. “It was an accident.”

“Did you know that Daniel’s been talking about hanging out his shingle again? Wants to get back to having his own practice. Might even buy that condo he’s been renting downtown.”

“Who’s your source?” I asked.

“Toni, by way of J.D.,” Bailey said.

The judge was about as solid a source as you could get.

“That’s huge for him,” I said, trying to act nonchalant.

“Maybe not just for him,” Bailey remarked.

I pretended indifference, but the news rocked me. Bailey was looking at me shrewdly. My effort to appear blasé had not convinced her.

“So what’re you going to do?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

And I really didn’t.