Shattered Secrets

* * *

Sal started with Hewston. He’d picked up on the lawyer’s barely disguised antagonism toward Olivia.

Hewston was of average height and weight with features that in another era would have been called patrician. He had a tanned and toned look that spelled expensive athletic clubs and time on the links.

His suit bore the quiet elegance of hand tailoring and his shoes appeared to be Italian. Sal didn’t care about fancy clothes or shoes, but he’d learned enough about them while working for S&J Security/Protection to recognize the real thing.

But it wasn’t Hewston’s bespoke clothes or Bruno Maglis that interested Sal. It was the man’s nervous energy that all but vibrated in the air, making Sal suspect the lawyer had something to hide.

The man studied Sal with frankly curious eyes. “So how do you know our Livvie?”

Sal raised a brow. He knew Olivia didn’t share the nickname with many people. That this man used it so casually told Sal that Hewston intentionally wanted to convey a closeness that Sal had determined wasn’t there, based on the coolness in Olivia’s voice when she’d made the introductions. “We’ve known each other a few years.”

“She’s a great gal. A little emotional sometimes. You know women.”

Sal didn’t react to the obvious dig. Hewston clearly had his own agenda. You learned more by listening than talking, and so Sal let his silence encourage the other man to continue.

“Don’t get me wrong. I like Livvie. I like her a lot. The whole office does.”

“That’s good to hear.” Sal waited a beat. “She seems very fond of the head of the firm.”

“Yeah. She and Chantry are tight. Nothing romantic, of course. Just good friends. He and her old man started the firm together back in the day.”

“So she said.” Sal nodded knowingly. “Must be nice to have a foot in the door, so to speak.” His tone invited the other man to share.

“Yeah. And let me tell you, she isn’t afraid of using her name to get what she wants. Take this case for instance.”

“What about it?”

“Olivia wanted it, so Olivia got it. That simple.” Bitterness twisted the man’s lips.

“You don’t think she earned it?”

“No way.” Apparently wondering if he’d gone too far, Hewston backpedaled. “I mean, she’s a good enough lawyer, but a case that big needs someone with more experience.”

“Someone like you?”

“Maybe.” Modesty didn’t sit well on the lawyer’s shoulders. “There’re other lawyers in the firm. Any one of us could have handled the case, but Olivia got it because her last name is Hammond.” Resentment splashed through his voice. He couldn’t hide his true feelings, Sal thought. Not for long.

“Does the rest of the firm feel the same way?” Sal asked.

Hewston darted a quick look around the office. “I couldn’t say.”

* * *

After a lot of thought, Olivia had come to the conclusion that Calvin’s kidnapping had to be connected with the case against the pharmaceutical company. Otherwise, why take him at this particular time?

While Sal talked with her coworkers, she went through the files again, looking for something, anything, that would point to what made this case so important. Sure, the company would lose market shares and a chunk of money if a judgment were filed against it, but such things happened all the time. Other companies had weathered worse setbacks and rebounded.

Two hours later, she sat back and tried without success to rub the kinks from her shoulders. All she’d gotten for her efforts were strained eyes and knotted muscles. What had she expected to find? A big sign saying, “This is what you’re looking for”?

Obviously she wasn’t any good at this investigation stuff, and she hoped Sal had done better. She went in search of him and found him charming the receptionist.

“Thanks for chatting with me,” he said, and the girl blushed prettily.

Olivia hooked her arm in his as they headed back to her office. “Did you learn anything?” she asked once they were inside with the door not only shut but locked as well. She normally didn’t lock her door, but she didn’t want anyone barging in on them while she and Sal were discussing the members of the firm.

“It seems that not everyone loves Chantry.” Sal checked his notes. “According to a couple of the secretaries and a law clerk, Hewston made no secret of the fact that he thought Chantry was too old and set in his ways to lead the company.”

Through the door’s window she saw Bryan talking with one of the other associates. “Bryan was passed over for a partnership last year. For the third time. Rumor had it that he was ready to quit, but he didn’t have anywhere to go. So he’s still here.”

“What do you think of him?”

“He’s competent enough. Good at the grip-and-greet thing with clients, but he lacks follow-through.”

Sal hiked a brow. “Not much of a recommendation.”

“Bryan knows his stuff, but he tends to be lazy when it comes to doing the pre-trial work like looking up precedents and putting motions before the court.”

“What about you? Do you mind that you’re not a partner?”

“I’m not ready,” she said easily. “Someday. When the time is right. In the meantime, I enjoy what I’m doing.”

“Your father helped found the firm. That should count for something.”

“It does. For him.” She felt the familiar defenses slide into place. “I don’t trade on my father’s name. That’s not who I am.”

“No,” Sal said. “It’s not.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“I wanted to hear you say it.”

They spent the next hour going over Sal’s impressions of the office personnel with Olivia filling in details where she could.

“What about Newman? She looks hungry. Like she wants whatever someone else has.”

“Hungry’s a good way to describe her. She’s poached other people’s clients when she could. But kidnapping?” Olivia stopped, thought about it. “Maybe. She hasn’t made a secret of the fact that she wants to be more than an associate.”

“You know these people. Know what makes them tick. Would any of them be willing to sell out Chantry for a big payday?”

“I don’t want to believe it. But maybe...” She thought of the designer bags that Vicky carried to work, the flashy car that Bryan drove. Neither of them could afford those on their salaries. “They might.”

Sal nodded. “I thought so. I spotted the Kate Spade bag.”

Olivia couldn’t contain her spurt of surprise. “You know Kate Spade handbags?”

“I have three sisters. They’ll live on ramen soup for six months if it means they can buy a genuine Kate Spade. Our brother, Nicco, calls them purse snobs.”

She heard the amusement in the words, but there was more. There was real love, causing her to recall her childhood wish for a sister. Or a brother. It hadn’t mattered.

“You’re fortunate to have your sisters and brother.”

“We Santonnis are a loud, bossy bunch. I’ll take you to meet them one day—” He stopped abruptly.

He was remembering the same thing she was, she thought, a pang of regret spearing through her. Two years ago, they’d planned a trip to meet his family.

It had never happened.

“What about you?” he asked. “Are you into designer handbags?”

Olivia shook her head and patted her battered briefcase. “Daddy gave this to me when I graduated from law school. It’s getting pretty beat-up, but I always carry it.” Her voice caught. “It reminds me of him.

“I have to get back to work,” she said, the huskiness of her voice at odds with the teasing note of earlier.

“Yeah. And I should be talking with more of your coworkers. See what I can learn.”

He closed the door behind him, leaving Olivia feeling more alone than ever. Without her knowing how it had happened, Sal was starting to become important to her all over again. The question was, what was she going to do about it?

SIX

By the end of the day, Sal had a pretty good handle on Chantry & Hammond’s personnel. There was the flirt. The jealous coworker. The ambitious partners. For the most part, they fit neatly into categories.

He’d do background checks on each, including any criminal history. It wasn’t difficult to figure out that several members of the law firm were living beyond their means.

He’d zeroed in on Bryan Hewston and Vicky Newman. A call to Shelley netted him the information that Newman came from money and had a substantial trust fund. Okay, that explained the designer bags and clothes. Hewston was another matter. It wasn’t clear, Shelley told him, where his money came from. She promised to do more digging.

“Thanks, boss.”

“Take care of Olivia. From what you’ve said, she’s in over her head.”

“You know I will.”

“I wish I could be there, but I can hardly tie my own shoes, much less chase down bad guys.”

Sal gave the expected chuckle, but his mind wasn’t really on what Shelley was saying. He was too busy trying to convince himself that he didn’t still have feelings for Olivia, before giving it up as a lost cause. Mixing personal and private matters was a recipe for disaster, so he was determined to keep things strictly professional.

That was the way to go. The only way to go.

He’d insisted on accompanying her to the Savannah courthouse and seeing her home at the end of the day. In between chatting up her coworkers, he’d found a motel, stashed his duffel bag there. He could have stayed at his parents’ place or with his brother, Nicco, but he preferred having the freedom of movement that a motel room offered.

Though he’d grown up in Savannah, he’d kept his distance from his family since his return from Afghanistan. The past kept tripping him up. He’d hidden the darker parts from his family as well as Olivia.

He knew he needed to make time to see his family. Until then, he contented himself with a phone call to his parents, assuring them that he was all right and would see them once the case was resolved.

He now waited at the side entrance to the courthouse as they’d agreed.

Heels clicking on the marble floor, Olivia made her way to where he stood. He took in the defeated expression on her face.

“A setback in court?”

“Waterloo was a setback. This was a disaster.” She tried a smile, but it barely made it to her lips. “I let everyone down.” Her shoulders slumped. “Especially the parents. They’re depending on me.”

“You’re too hard on yourself. Always tilting at windmills.”

“That’s what windmills are for.”

He understood that defending the underdog was what had made her want to be a lawyer in the first place. “You’ll get ’em tomorrow.”

“I hope so. I have to.” Her voice hardened. “What the company did to those children is as good as murder. And that’s what I’ll take it down for.”

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