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Authors: Melissa F. Miller

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BOOK: Irreparable Harm
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Chapter 38

 

Sewickley, Pennsylvania

Jerry Irwin woke up early on the best day of his life. He was unstoppable. By midnight tomorrow, the demonstration would be complete, the auction would be closed, and hundreds of millions—if not
billions
—of dollars would be flying through cyberspace, headed for his account in the Caymans. But that wasn’t even the best part.

The best part was that he’d awoken in the arms of his girlfriend. A most amazing creature. She was soft and refined, loving and supportive. She’d been neglected too long, stashed away in this well-appointed prison, but he was going to change all that.

The double doors leading from the hallway to the master bedroom swung open, and there she was. She shimmied through the door holding a silver tray that contained a mug of coffee for him and one of tea for herself, two croissants, and some jelly. Her blonde hair was tousled from sleep and she wore a gray cashmere robe over her silk nightgown. She smiled at him.

As she rested the tray on the bedside table, Laura said, “I’m afraid it’s typical Pittsburgh weather today. Cold and rainy.”

Jerry propped himself up on his elbows, leaned back against the pile of pillows arranged behind him, and patted the bed beside him.

“From what I can see, it’s a beautiful day.”

She gave him another smile. “I’m sorry we won’t be able to spend the day together. I just have so much to do to get ready for the funeral service.”

Jerry took her hand. “Stop. I’m here to support you through this, remember? Our new life starts next week, when you wrap up your affairs and hand off Noah’s estate to the executor. Then, you’ll join me at the villa and we’ll put all this ugliness behind us. Okay?”

She turned her blue eyes to his, “Yes.”

Jerry smiled back at her, relieved. He’d been worried Noah’s death would change everything, make her reconsider her feelings for Jerry, but it hadn’t. She’d told him she was sad Noah had died, of course; but, given his drinking problem, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. She’d said, in some ways, his death made things easier for her. She wouldn’t have to tell him about the affair or suffer the guilt of leaving him.

Laura’s pragmatism and ability to adapt to the circumstances encouraged Jerry. The one small loose end in all of his plans was that Laura didn’t know about the RAGS application. She believed he was selling his business at a huge profit and retiring. If he could get her out of the country quickly enough, that story would still hold together. If not, well, he just hoped she’d accept the truth.

“Are you going to go to the Cancer Center today?” she asked.

They had met through the Cancer Center. Vivian had used her connection with Laura, who was on the center’s board of directors, to get him access to candidates to carry the phones on the planes. He needed men who were terminally ill and had financial worries. Vivian had told Laura that a fellow Carnegie Mellon alumnus wanted to set up a fund to help cancer patients with their expenses.

Laura had taken the prospective donor out for dinner. By the time they’d ordered coffee and dessert, she had a commitment from Jerry to seed the fund with a million dollars. They spent a lot of time together over the next months, setting up the fund and reviewing the applications for financial assistance.

His attraction had been immediate. Hers had grown over time. Her husband was always working and she was lonely. Jerry had been patient and attentive. And, look at him now.

She was waiting for him to answer.

“Oh, uh, no. I think I’ll stay here and do some paperwork. If I want to run out for a bite, is there somewhere nearby?”

He didn’t want to bring Gregor and that other goon into Laura’s tasteful home. He’d meet them out somewhere to get the files.

She gave him the name of a bistro just a few minutes away. Then she went to take a shower.

Her smile over her shoulder as she walked to the bathroom was an invitation to join her in the oversized marble shower. As soon as he finished his breakfast, he intended to do just that.

His ringing cell phone killed his erection. It was the wrong phone. Not Gregor calling to say he had the files, but Vivian.

He kept an eye on the bathroom door as he answered it. He heard the water start to run.

“Good morning, Vivian,” he answered as evenly as he could.

“Irwin, why is Sasha McCandless still alive?”

“I’m not sure she is. My guy was in her condo last night, searching for the files.”

“Well
my
guy jumped her this morning, as she was going for a run. Unfortunately, she evaded him. Get those goddamn files, Irwin.”

He sighed.

“I’m working on it. I’m sure I’ll have them by noon.” He lowered his voice, “Don’t call me again, okay? I’m at Laura’s.”

Vivian laughed. It was an ugly sound, more like a bark. “Comforting the grieving widow, are you?”

The water stopped. “Jerry?” Laura called out from the bathroom, wondering when he was going to join her.

“Goodbye, Vivian.”

Jerry stripped off his boxer shorts and headed into the bathroom.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 39

 

The offices of Prescott & Talbott

 

There was an actual line outside Sasha’s office door when she and Connelly arrived just before eight.

Naya, Parker, Joe, and—for reasons that escaped Sasha—Flora were leaning against the wall in that order.

“Should have installed a deli ticket machine,” Naya cracked as she followed them into the office and shut the door behind her.

Sasha could hear the hushed conversation on the other side as the knot of people tried to figure out who Connelly was.

“What’s up?”

Naya winked. “This fax came in for you this morning,” she said in a too-loud voice. “Looks like Mickey Collins is going to file an emergency motion for a temporary restraining order to ground some of Hemisphere Air’s planes.”

She handed Sasha a faxed copy of the motion and brief she had written the night before.

“He
faxed
it?” Nobody faxed anything anymore. Everything was scanned and e-mailed as a PDF. Or, if it was really big, put up on an FTP site.

“I guess he wanted word to spread, right?”

“I guess. Okay. I’ll take it from here. I don’t want you to be involved if it blows up.”

Connelly and Naya both winced at her choice of words.

“Sorry. You know what I mean.”

“What
can
I do?”

“See what Parker and Joe need. Then, send an e-mail around to the whole team and tell them I have to be in court today, but they can see you if they have any problems or questions.”

“I always get the crap assignment. You get to go argue against a motion that you wrote while I babysit.”

“Want to trade?”

“Hell, no. Hey, I had the copy center scan those papers. There’s a PDF in your e-mail, so you can forward it to Vivian.”

“You’re the best.”

“I really am, aren’t I?”

She walked out into the hall and told Parker and Joe to follow her to the workroom.

Flora grabbed the door before it closed all the way.

“Sasha?” she said from the hallway, poking just her head in, “Can I talk to you?  It’ll only take a minute.”

“Come in. Where’s Lettie?”

“Uh, she’s here,” Flora said, shuffling into the room with her eyes down and her hands behind her back. “But, she and I thought, um, I should talk to you about something.”

Sasha noticed Flora had left the door ajar. Probably hoping that, with the door open, Sasha wouldn’t yell at her about whatever inane secretarial dispute she was coming to complain about.

“Flora, I’m really busy. Is this important?”

It was out of character for Lettie to involve her in the territorial squabbles that arose from time to time amongst the support staff.

Flora wrinkled her brow, confused, and glanced over at Connelly, as if he could help her. “I don’t know, I thought it was.”

From behind her back, she produced a UPS letter envelope.

“What’s that?”

The words poured out of Flora in a rush. “It’s the package you were waiting for yesterday. It must’ve come while I was at lunch or away from my desk helping someone. I didn’t notice it until last night when I was leaving, and you were on the phone.”

 “You knew this was here last night and didn’t tell me?”

Flora appeared to be on the verge of tears. “I’m really sorry.”

She thrust the envelope at Sasha, eager to get rid of it.

Sasha was still for a minute, focusing on tamping down her temper. She took the package from Flora’s outstretched hand and looked at her, considering her response.

Flora waited.

“Just get out,” Sasha said in a soft voice.

Flora opened her mouth to speak.

“Out,” she repeated. Louder this time.

Flora got the hint and scurried out the door.

Connelly shut the door and they both stared at the envelope in disbelief.

Sasha used her letter opener to slice the envelope open. On Tuesday, Warner had addressed it to her. Hours later, he was in a dumpster in an alley.

She turned it upside down over her desk and a thumb drive fell out. A handwritten note fluttered out after it. She scanned it. It said nothing of import, but Warner had had neat, even handwriting.

She looked at the clock.
8:10
.

She booted up her laptop and handed the thumb drive to Connelly. “Plug it in and just print everything out, we’re going to have to take it with us.”

“Can’t Naya or one of the attorneys …”

Sasha shook her head. “I don’t want anyone else to be implicated.”

She took a breath and dialed Vivian’s number.
Please let it go to voicemail.

No such luck.

“Vivian Coulter.”

Sasha guessed her assistant didn’t start until nine.

“Good morning, Vivian. It’s Sasha McCandless.”

“Oh, hello, Sasha.”

The voice on the other end of the phone was polite and calm, in stark contrast to the last conversation she’d had with her client. Sasha knew that would be short-lived.

“I’m calling because I just received an emergency motion from Mickey Collins. He’s going to ask Judge Cook to grant a TRO grounding certain of Hemisphere Air’s aircraft. Uh, all planes that have the same make and model as Flight 1667 and were put into service within a three-year period of Flight 1667.”

That was the best she and Naya could do to include all four of the compromised planes without making it obvious. By their count, the order would affect eleven planes.

Silence.

Sasha plowed ahead. “I’ll send you a PDF of the motion. I have to head over to the court right away, but I assume you want to fight this.”

Vivian’s response was quick.

“Yes, I want to fight it. Why wouldn’t I?”

Sasha could hear suspicion in Vivian’s voice. After all, just yesterday she’d suggested Hemisphere Air should ground some of its planes. She had to meet that head on.

“Of course, you would. Yesterday, as I am sure you recall, I raised the possibility that you might want to take similar action on your own accord, but this is an outrage. Any decision to keep planes on the ground is a business decision that should be made by the company.”

“Do these papers mention the purported RAGS link?”

“No, they simply state that the cause of Monday’s crash is unknown but believed to be mechanical in nature.”

“Well, that seems like a rather speculative basis for grounding some percentage of our fleet.” She pronounced rather the way the wealthy do.
Rah-ther
.

“It looks like eleven planes.”

“Regardless, I expect you to shut this down.”

“I understand. I have to tell you, though, that, speculative as the papers are, we’re probably going to have an uphill battle getting Judge Cook to deny the order.”

BOOK: Irreparable Harm
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ads

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