The Last Alibi

24

Shauna

Sunday, June 16

I fish around my desk looking for the transcript. “Where’s the Flynn dep?” I ask.

Bradley John is on the couch in my office reviewing another deposition. He’s been with us over a year now, and is four-plus years removed from law school. He may look like a teenage rock star with that goofy hair, but he works as hard as anyone I know. He works as hard as me.

“I have it on the system,” he says, gesturing to the laptop computer resting beside him. He looks up at me. “But you want a hard copy.”

He knows me well by now. Technology has created a sea change in the practice of law, but when I’m preparing for trial by reviewing deposition transcripts, I want them in my hand, with my notes scribbled in the margins and Post-it tabs sticking out everywhere.

“Jason would have a copy,” I say. I push myself out of my chair. My trial is about three weeks away, and I’m pretty much there in terms of the big-picture prep, but now we’re getting down to the microscopic level, the nuance. “And where is our Mr. Kolarich, I wonder?” I say aloud. Jason hasn’t been in the whole weekend. I know what he’d say: We have plenty of time. But I make mistakes when I rush things, and he probably does, too. We aren’t flying by the seat of our pants in this trial. Rory Arangold’s company is depending on it.

I walk down to his office, where the lights are off and Jason appears to be enjoying his weekend, unlike the rest of us. Now where would the Arangold files be? I dropped all of them in the corner by his fridge-

Oh. There it is. The entire stack of folders. Exactly as I placed them.

Jason hasn’t reviewed a single page.

I dial him on my phone. No answer. “Hey, tough guy,” I say to voice mail, “don’t know if you’re coming in today, Sunday, but I need to schedule a meeting this week with you and Rory Arangold. So hopefully you’ll be prepared by maybe Tuesday?” I think of ending the message there. But I don’t. “If you’re not able to work on this file, if you’re busy with other stuff or whatever, tell me now, Jase. Not the day before trial.”

I punch out and stare at those untouched files. He knows how important this is to me. He knows how nervous I am. Normally, he’d be right here with me, watching my back.

I let out a long sigh. He’ll be there. He’s just doing his typical procrastination. He’ll waltz in and he’ll decimate their expert.

“You okay?” Bradley is standing in the doorway.

“Oh, sure, sure,” I say. “Let’s get back to it.”