The Last Alibi

53

Shauna

Monday, July 8

When I get back to the law firm, I take a look down the hall and find the door to Jason’s office closed once again, but the office light on, spilling out under the doorway. That’s the second time I’ve ever seen that door closed, the first being when he was in there with Alexa doing whatever it was they were doing. A closed door means privacy. A closed door means no visitors welcome. And the Arangolds will be here in an hour, so it’s not like I have a lot of free time.

But I walk in that direction anyway, and I knock on his door anyway, and I poke my head in anyway, without getting an answer, because once upon a time Jason never closed the door, and once upon a time even if he did, there was one person in the world who could walk through it, and that person was me. And if Alexa doesn’t like it, she can-

But Alexa isn’t in the office.

There are two people in the office, Jason and a younger guy. Jason is behind his desk but standing, stuffing cash into his pocket. The younger man is on the other side of the desk, slouching in a chair with his feet up, his back to me when I pop in but now turning. He gives me a quick nod of acknowledgment, cool and confident. It takes me a moment, but only a moment, before I recognize him. He is much better at this than Jason, much better at pretending that he isn’t doing what it looks like he’s doing. He’s had a lot more practice.

“Shauna,” says Jason, trying to act normal, still in recovery mode, a few bills sticking out of his pants pocket. “You don’t knock?”

I knocked. I just didn’t wait for an answer. If I hadn’t knocked, if I’d just walked right in without any advance warning, Jason wouldn’t have had the nanosecond of time to try to hide the transaction that was taking place.

“You remember Billy Braden,” he says, gesturing to his client while shoving the money deeper into his pocket.

Sure, I do. Richie Rich. The son of wealthy doctors, the Highland Woods boy who deals drugs for fun, because it’s cool to take a walk on the wild side, to play Candyman before Daddy gets him into Harvard and buys him his first condo.

“We were just discussing the appeal,” Jason says. “The state’s appealing the judge’s ruling.”

I look away, close my eyes, wishing I could close my ears, too.

“Hey, man, gotta scatter,” Billy says.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Cool. Nice seeing you,” Billy says, presumably to me, but I don’t look at him.

And then he’s gone. Then it’s just Jason and me.

“Boy, that guy’s a piece of work,” Jason says, still recovering. “I mean, I’ve had clients who wanted to pay in cash before, but you’d think a guy with-”

“Jason.”

“-his bank account-”

“Jason.”

He stops talking. The silence sucks all of the oxygen from the room.

“Don’t,” I say. “Please don’t lie to me. Tell me to fuck off. Tell me to get out of your office. But don’t lie to me. Not me.”

I keep my gaze on the window, not having mustered the courage for eye contact just yet. My chest is burning, my limbs filled with electricity, my pulse racing so hard that it’s difficult for me to stand still.

“It’s painkillers, isn’t it?” I say. “You got hooked while you were recuper-”

“It’s nothing,” he says. “I’m not on anything. I’m fine, Shauna.”

My eyes close again. “You’re not fine. You’re lying to me.”

“Shauna, I swear I’m fine.”

“I said don’t lie to me!” Now I look at him, snapping my head around. “Don’t you dare lie to me, Jason. Anything but that.”

Jason falls into his chair, shaking his head, a hand over his mouth. “I don’t know how to prove a negative, Shauna. I’m not addicted to anything.”

“Swear on Talia’s grave,” I say.

He makes a face, but his eyes still haven’t met mine. “What?”

“Look me in the eye, Jason Kolarich, and swear on Talia’s grave that you aren’t addicted to something.”

“Who. .?” Jason pops out of his chair. “Who the hell do you think you are, demanding something like that? Fuck you, Shauna. Fuck you.” He points at the door. “Now get out of my office.”

Now, finally, there is eye contact, now that he’s refused to address the issue.

“I’ll help you, Jason. I can help.”

“There’s nothing to help.” He points toward the hallway. “Now you were about to leave my office?”

I take a long breath. Something inside me breaks in half. I move toward the door but stop and turn before leaving.

“This isn’t your office, not anymore,” I hear myself say. “I want you and your drugs out of my law firm.”