Brutality (34 page)

“Yes.”

“Pull over if you want to talk,” he said.

“Cristian, you can’t be the boss of everyone.”

“That’s rich coming from you. Why are you in such a bad mood?”

“The usual reasons. Hey, did you ask Vikram about threatening Liz?” she asked.

“It’s a dead end,” Cristian said. “He claims he never threatened her, and it’s Dana’s word against his.”

“And you believe him?”

“I didn’t say that, but there’s no proof supporting either claim, which makes it useless from an evidentiary standpoint.”

“Great,” Fina said.

“We’re still looking at him.”

“What about the bomber?”

“What about him?” Cristian asked.

“Anything new?” she asked.

“You first.”

“I’m making progress,” Fina said, “but nothing concrete yet.”

“That about sums things up.”

“Ugh. This is so frustrating,” she said before laying on her horn. An SUV with a
BABY ON BOARD
sign had cut her off. If the driver was that concerned about her precious cargo, she shouldn’t be crossing three lanes of traffic to make her exit.

“Fina!” Cristian exclaimed. “Either get off the phone or get off the road!”

“Fine. I’ll call you later.”

“Fine, but eat something before you do. You sound hangry,” Cristian said, and hung up.

He was right, of course, which only made her feel worse.

—

F
ina spent most of Sunday stewing and reviewing the case. Her family was a constant source of frustration, but usually she was able to distract herself with her work. But when a case was also frustrating her, it was like a double whammy. Fina knew she just had to push through it, which was why she spent the day poring over the notes and materials she had and trying to figure out her next steps. She broke up the day with an intense workout, and when she climbed into bed, Fina had assembled a plan of sorts.

Her review of the case kept bringing her back to Jamie and the unanswered questions that related to him. So in the shower the next morning, Fina pondered those questions and the best way to get answers. Once dressed and fed, she put in a call to Matthew.

“Do you still have those vouchers from the maid service?” she asked when he came on the line.

“Can you be more vague?”

“The maid service? The one you represented against the cleaning chemical people?”

“Oh, you mean the Cheerful Cleaners? Yeah.” Matthew had represented a small cleaning company in their fight against a fluid supplier and the alleged toxicity of their products. He’d won a handsome settlement for Cheerful Cleaners and a seemingly endless supply of housecleaning vouchers. “Why?” he asked. “Have you decided to have your home cleaned? Are you feeling okay?”

“I have a housecleaner come in a couple times a month, thanks very much.” Fina eyed her space; it wasn’t exactly ready for a spread in
House Beautiful
.

“So why does it always look like a pigsty?” he asked.

“It’s messy, but that’s different from being unclean.”

Matthew snorted.

“Anyhoo,” Fina continued, “I need some of those vouchers if you still have them.”

“Sure. You want Sue to pop some in the mail?” he asked.

“No, I need them now. If I swing by can she run them out to me?”

“She has better things to do, Fina.”

“Come on,” Fina said. “You must have an intern or somebody who can take five minutes to run down to the lobby. It’s for a case.”

“You always say that,” Matthew said.

“’Cause it’s always true.”

“Fine. Give Sue a call when you get here, and she’ll send someone out.”

“Thanks. Hey, I don’t know if Scotty clued you in, but Mom has been campaigning for Haley to visit Rand in Florida.”

Matthew sighed. “Great.”

“Exactly. She doesn’t want to go, and we need to back her up on this.”

“Fine.”

Fina knew that his support was given grudgingly. Matthew relished conflict in the courtroom, but preferred to stay out of things on the family front. Not getting involved, as far as Fina was concerned, was a luxury she and her siblings didn’t have.

“Thank you. I appreciate the support,” she said.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“Just one question: When are you going to settle down and make some girl very happy?” It was Elaine’s constant refrain to Matthew.

“Piss off,” he said to his sister.

“Love you, too,” Fina said before disconnecting the call.

Their mother was a pain in the ass, but she did provide moments of comic relief.

—

F
ina didn’t call ahead so she wasn’t sure who she’d find at Liz and Jamie’s house when she arrived two hours later. The minivan and the Passat were in the driveway, but there were no additional cars out front as there had been on previous visits. Fina knew that once the funeral was over, most of the mourners returned to their normal routines, while the immediate family and closest friends were left in a grief-filled limbo. It was a lonely place to be, and even though she had an ulterior motive for stopping by, Fina was sensitive to the fact that a show of support might be appreciated.

Or maybe not,
Fina thought when Jamie opened the door a minute later. He looked exhausted, with dark smudges under his eyes, the whites of which were bloodshot. He was wearing baggy jeans and a long-sleeved waffle-weave top. His feet were bare.

“I’m sorry to stop by unannounced,” Fina lied, “but I was in the neighborhood. Do you have a minute?”

Jamie stepped back and opened the door wide. Fina came in and slipped off her boots and coat. The living room was reverting to its original state, with piles of clutter on most of the flat surfaces.

She followed Jamie into the kitchen. As she took a seat at the table, a loud bang rang out overhead.

“The kids are home,” he said in explanation. “I couldn’t deal with getting them to school.”

Fina nodded. “I imagine it’s hard doing the morning routine with only one grown-up.”

“Liz handled it most days,” Jamie admitted. “I’m not very good at it.”

Fina was amused by the idea that Liz or anyone else was inherently good at the morning routine. Yes, some people were more organized than others, but really, it was a skill like any other. You just figured out the steps and practiced them, and if you couldn’t master the routine, chances were either you didn’t have to or didn’t want to.

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it,” she assured him.

“Did you want coffee?” he asked.

Fina nodded and reached into her bag. She took out her phone and slipped it into her pocket. Jamie placed a mug in front of her, and she slid an envelope over to him when he took a seat across from her.

“I thought this might be more useful than another casserole.” Fina dipped a spoon into the sugar bowl and stirred a generous helping into her coffee.

Jamie opened the envelope and pulled out the vouchers for free housecleaning. “Huh. Thanks.” He seemed appreciative, but perplexed.

“I know it seems like a weird gift, but there’s nothing like having someone bring order to chaos. Those will give you a few months of relief.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” Jamie said. “Kelly has been doing a lot around here, but I feel bad.”

“I wouldn’t feel too bad,” Fina said. “From what I can tell, she enjoys getting things whipped into shape.”

“That’s true.”

“But she probably has responsibilities she needs to get back to,” she said. “Cheerful Cleaners will at least give you a bridge until you figure out a new routine.” Fina sipped the coffee and had to stop herself from grimacing. It was dark and strong, even with the sugar. “When you schedule the first appointment, you should mention that you were referred by Matthew Ludlow. He’s my brother, and he represented them in a lawsuit. They love him.”

“So people either love you guys or hate you,” Jamie mused, taking a sip of his black coffee.

Fina tipped her head. “I suppose. We tend to generate strong feelings in people.” She wrapped her hands around her mug. “Bobbi mentioned that your knee had been acting up. How’s it feeling?”

“It’s been pretty bad lately. The cold doesn’t help,” he said.

“How’d you hurt it?” Fina asked, trying to stomach another sip of coffee.

“I was riding my bike and wiped out. I was going to do a triathlon—not a full one, just a sprint one to start—but obviously, that’s not going to happen.”

“That’s a bummer.”

“Yup. So much for taking up a healthy hobby.”

“Did you see Gus Sibley about it?” Fina asked.

Jamie studied her. “Why would you ask that?”

“I was just curious. My nephews are always breaking things and in need of recommendations.”

Jamie shook his head. “No. I saw a guy in Burlington.”

“I guess I assumed you’d seen him since he and Liz were friends.” Fina patted her pocket and pulled out her phone. “It’s on vibrate. Sorry, I need to check this,” she said, tapping on some buttons.

Jamie drank more coffee and tugged at a cuticle on his finger.

“Do you know Cambridge well?” Fina asked. “I’m supposed to meet someone at a restaurant in Central Square, but I don’t go there very often.” She pretended to send a text before putting the phone in her bag.

“I don’t spend much time over there,” Jamie said. “I did when I used to play music, but now I probably wouldn’t even recognize the place. All the businesses have changed and have been taken over by chains.”

“I hear ya. When I go to Harvard Square, I still expect to find the Wursthaus,” Fina said, referring to an old German bar and restaurant that used to anchor the Square and had closed nearly twenty years before.

“I loved that place,” Jamie said, a smile overtaking his features.

“You and me both,” Fina said, bringing her mug to the sink. “Well, I’m sure my GPS will get me where I need to go in Central Square.”

“Sorry I can’t help,” he said, following her to the door.

“I’ll figure it out,” Fina said. “I’m good at that.”

“Thanks for the vouchers,” Jamie said when she was starting down the front steps.

“Happy to help, and don’t hesitate to call if you need some other practical assistance. You’d be surprised the contacts I have.”

Jamie closed the door, and Fina returned to her car, where she set the heater to high.

It irritated her when people lied to her, but once she put that aside, she was able to focus on the crux of the issue.

There was clearly something that Jamie didn’t want her to know.

23.

Pamela sat behind her desk and tried to focus on the document on her computer screen. She was drafting a letter to soothe the Astral Donors—people who gave more than fifty thousand dollars a year—who were already expressing concerns about the lawsuit. Like it wasn’t difficult enough getting people to give money these days; now she’d have to spend her time reassuring skittish supporters.

Deb was cooking dinner for her tonight, and Pamela toyed with the idea of canceling. She wasn’t in the mood to socialize, and she wondered if her hesitation was a reflection of her or Deb. If they had a better relationship, would Pamela seek out her company? Or was the inclination to share her troubles just not in her wiring?

Her assistant came to the door and hovered. Pamela knew she had been short with the young woman in recent days, but the hovering was more irritating than solicitous.

“Yes, Jill?”

“I have some documents from the San Diego conference organizers.”

Pamela was confused. “Which conference is that?”

“The higher ed development officers meeting? You’re giving one of the keynotes.”

Pamela’s back stiffened. “Since when?”

“Since a few weeks ago. Paul was supposed to, but he has a conflict. He said you would do it instead.” Paul was senior to Pamela in the development office, much to her annoyance.

“Well, nobody asked me,” Pamela said. “I don’t even know if I’m available.”

“You are,” Jill said. “I checked your schedule.”

Pamela looked at her. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

The young woman looked confused. “I shouldn’t have checked your schedule? I assumed since Paul was asking that you knew about it.”

“You shouldn’t have put it on my schedule without asking me,” Pamela said.

“I’m sorry.” Jill stood there, the papers hanging loosely by her side.

Pamela wiggled in her chair. Her panty hose were digging into her upper thighs, but there was no polite way to ease the pressure.

“So what should I do?” Jill asked.

“Let me see it.” Pamela held out her hand.

Jill crossed the room and offered the papers as if they were radioactive. Pamela smoothed them down on her blotter and scanned them. They were a draft of the highlights of the conference, including a speech by Pamela. There was an entry with her name and photo, a brief description of the talk, and a list of her credentials.

Pamela pressed her palm against the documents. “I can’t do this talk. You need to tell the organizers that my schedule has changed and I’m unavailable.”

“But it’s only a month away.”

“That means they have a month to find someone else. You know I don’t like these kinds of events,” Pamela said. “They take me away from my real work.”

Jill chewed on her lip. “What do you want me to tell Paul?”

“Tell him that I’m not available. Tell him to find a replacement.” Pamela looked at the document on her screen and clicked her mouse.

Her assistant remained in front of her desk.

“Was there something else?” Pamela asked her without looking up.

“No. Sorry.” Jill left the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

Pamela hadn’t asked her to close the door, but perhaps her assistant’s instincts were right; she wasn’t in the mood for human interaction.

—

C
ristian asked Fina to meet him at the courthouse, where he was testifying in another case. She was eager to get an update, but she didn’t feel good about the way their phone call had ended the other night. She knew it was largely her fault, but as much as she liked to eat, Fina hated humble pie.