Wolf in the Shadows (4 page)

“Does that mean you’ll pay for my car phone?” I asked the question jokingly, but it was one of the perks I’d insist on. Over
the weekend I’d had reason to become enraged with All Souls’s stinginess when it came to equipment I considered essential;
that morning I’d informed Ted that I was buying a phone, and if they wouldn’t pay for it, I’d foot the bill myself.

Hank’s smile was strained. “I’m sure that can be arranged. Now, in addition to an increase in the investigative caseload,
you’ve probably noticed that we’ve come to rely more heavily on our paralegal researchers.”

Something in the way he stressed the word “now” put me on my guard. I waited.

Hank took off his glasses and began twirling them by one earpiece—a telltale sign of discomfort. “As you know, the use of
paralegals eliminates time-consuming tasks for attorneys, provides more efficient service to our clients, and produces a higher
profit margin.”

“Christ, Hank,” Larry said, “you sound as if you’re quoting from the
California Paralegal’s Guide
.”

Hank silenced him with a glare. I glanced at Pam; she was smiling at the rug now, her normally pale face pink with suppressed
laughter. Hank glared at her too, even though she couldn’t see him, then put his glasses back on and regarded me apologetically.
“Sorry if I sounded like I was talking down to you. I was trying to make the basis for our decision clear.”

“Why don’t you just tell me the decision, and if I need clarification, I’ll ask for it.”

He looked around, as if he hoped someone else would take over. No one volunteered. Finally he said, “We’ve decided to make
investigative services and paralegal research one department, with you as its administrator.”

I frowned, unable to assimilate what I was hearing. Supervising a staff of investigators was one thing, but what did I know
of paralegal work? “I’m flattered,” I said, “but the two don’t strike me as compatible. Besides, I’m not sure I know what
most of our paralegals
do
.”

Gloria leaned forward, dark eyes intense, carmine-tipped fingers shaping her words. “A paralegal researches case law, Sharon.
She or he interviews clients, writes memoranda and briefs, prepares exhibits for trial, drafts interrogatories, indexes documents
for trial—handles anything, short of practicing law, that makes the attorney’s work simpler.”

“I understand the basic job description,” I said, “but it seems to me that, since the paralegals work closely with the attorneys
they’re assigned to, they’d be better off reporting directly to them.”

“Currently they do, and they’ll continue to, but we need to ensure that the work flows smoothly. That’s where you and the
new research department come in. As administrator, you’ll log in cases and keep tabs on every phase of the research, so none
of the steps is neglected. Plus supervise your own investigators, of course.” Gloria’s bright lips—the exact shade as her
fingernails—curved into a smile, as if she’d given me a particularly nice present and was anticipating enthusiastic thanks.

Now it was becoming clear why Hank was nervous about this discussion. Why Pam and Larry wouldn’t look at me. Why only the
two partners who scarcely knew me thought I should be thrilled with this promotion. I said, “That sounds like a very time-consuming
process. Given how frequently I have to be out of the office on my own investigations, I don’t think it’s feasible.”

Mike frowned, bushy black eyebrows meeting in a straight line. From his quick glance at Hank, I revised my earlier assessment
of the situation; he and Gloria had also known I wouldn’t like their plan. “Sharon,” he said, “that’s why we’re giving you
the go-ahead to hire more investigators. They’ll free up your time for administrative duties.”

Yes, now it was all very clear. “You want to confine me to a desk job,” I said flatly.

Mike drew back a bit, still frowning, lower teeth nibbling at his neatly clipped mustache. Then he went into his sincere mode:
eyes wide and guileless, speech patterns turning folksy, tone warm and intimate. “Big step up for you. Big increase in pay.
But hey, we forgot to mention the incentive plan!” He actually clapped his hand against his high forehead in an imitation
of the guy who could have had a V-8.

I wasn’t falling for any sincerity act. Looking from Pam to Larry to Hank, I asked, “You all approved of this? Jack, too?”

Hank’s shoulders hunched defensively; I’d seldom seen him look so miserable. Pam’s fingers tightened on her blue-jeaned thighs.
Larry practically stuck his head into the shopping bag full of walnuts.

Finally Gloria said, “One of the incentives we’ve talked about is to bring you in on the profit-sharing plan. I don’t know
if you’re aware of it, but profits were up fourteen percent last quarter.”

I was silent, my emotions in a turmoil. On the one hand, I was appalled at the prospect of a desk job, but on the other, I
wondered what was wrong with me. Substantial salary increase, profit sharing—the American dream. So why did I feel so confused
and resistant?

“Sharon,” Pam said, her delicate features strained, “you may not think so now, but you’d make a terrific administrator. You
could turn the new research department into the mainstay of the corporation.”

Research department. Such a dry sound. Research was an activity carried on in musty archives: slow, methodical, analytical—and
boring.

I shook my head in confusion, fighting off a sense of betrayal and trying to imagine the scenario they’d presented me. Supervising
a larger staff of investigators, even relatively untrained ones, would be easy. I’d hire bright people, teach them what they
needed to know. Even dealing with the paralegals would pose no real problem; during my tenure at All Souls I’d read a fair
amount of law and picked up even more informally. What I couldn’t envision was me behind a desk forty hours a week.

I said, “I still think it’s a mistake to combine the two activities.”

Mike replied somewhat tartly, “It’s not up to you to critique our organizational chart.”

“But she might have a point,” Larry said thoughtfully. “We should at least hear her out.”

“Larry, the matter’s already settled.”

“But, Mike, she’s saying exactly what we expected she would.”

“Of course she is—and you know why, given where she’s coming from.”

Quickly Hank held up a hand. “Let’s not argue.”

“Just where
am
I coming from?”

Hank made a dismissing motion. “I don’t think we need to get into—”

Pam’s voice cut through his words. “We’ve always been up front here. We might as well get into it.”

“Get into
what?
” I demanded.

Hank sighed heavily. “I asked you to meet with me beforehand. But no, you couldn’t be bothered. Too busy. Off working a case.”

“Which is precisely the problem,” Gloria added.

I faced her. “The problem?”

“Yes, problem.” She nodded emphatically, long curls bobbing. “You’re a good investigator, Sharon. But you lack discipline.
The Benedict case is a good example.”

The Benedict case was the one I’d just wrapped up. “What about it?”

“Did you receive authorization to work on it?”

“Not initially. Hank was on vacation—”

“Did you request it from anyone else?”

“I’ve always reported to Hank. And when he came back, he gave me the go-ahead.”

“Only after you were in over your head.”

“Jack requested—”

“He had no right, and both of you knew it. It was Jack’s personal crusade, and by giving in to him, you neglected your other
duties.”

Mike added, “That’s not an isolated instance, either. That business up at Tufa Lake is another.”

Outraged, I turned to Hank. “You loaned me out on the case. The California Coalition for Environmental Preservation reimbursed
the firm for my time.”

Mike said, “He only loaned you because Anne-Marie’s his wife and their chief counsel and she requested you. He didn’t go through
channels, get approval from the rest of us. This new organizational plan will prevent abuses like that.”

Surprisingly, Hank nodded. “Mike’s right—I admit it. We’ve talked—and fought—this through at our meetings. Back when All
Souls was a small cooperative, I could bend the rules, but as it grew I just kept doing that, to our detriment. We all have
to learn to adapt.”

His words rendered me speechless. His words, and the truth of them.

After a moment Gloria moved her hands together in a gesture that apologized for the dissension. Mike leaned forward, elbows
on knees, soft eyes begging for understanding. Larry looked hangdog, Pam hopeful. Hank reached over and squeezed my hand.

These people are not out to get you, I told myself. They’re good people, dedicated people, and they have the best interests
of the co-op at heart. But, damn, they’re asking too much!

Hank said, “So what do you think, Shar?”

I remained silent.

Gloria added, “All Souls needs you.”

“I’m not sure you need me in that particular capacity.”

Larry said, “Everything changes, Shar. Maybe you should change, too.”

Pam added, “There’s a lot of energy being generated by the reorganization. We want you to be a part of it.”

Mike said, “I know Jack would tell you the same if he were here.”

So they were all committed to this new plan. It was take-it-or-leave-it time.

I thought of the future if I accepted this promotion. Tried to look at it in a positive light. A desk job, supervising a staff
of investigators and paralegals. Log sheets, meetings, mediating disputes … Ugh! But balance all that against the satisfaction
of watching the department and the co-op grow and prosper. Balance that against the satisfaction of prospering personally.
A higher salary, car phone, profit sharing. I could pay off the second mortgage I’d taken out to finish remodeling my house,
buy good furniture, bank a portion of my take-home pay. Maybe I’d even be able to start taking flying lessons again. I’d had
a few lessons years ago, and Hy had been teaching me informally, but I needed to log time with a licensed flight instructor.
And a desk job would give me the time for that; there would be no more evenings wasted freezing my ass off on stakeouts, no
more weekends wasted chasing down elusive witnesses. I’d put in my eight hours five days a week and have a life as well.

It would also mean stultifying boredom and a hell of a lot of clock-watching. It would mean surrendering the freedom I loved.

But face it, McCone, I told myself, if you don’t agree to their offer, it’ll mean starting over. It’ll mean giving up All
Souls, the closest thing to a family you’ve got anymore.

They weren’t going to get off cheaply, though. I would really stick it to them. “What about a pension plan?” I asked. “You
partners have one.”

They exchanged surprised glances. “I’m sure that could be arranged,” Hank said.

“And this salary increase—just what are we talking here?”

“At least one-third over what you’re making now.”

I did some mental arithmetic. “Double would be more attractive.”

“The point is negotiable. So what do you say?”

“I’ll have to think on it.”

“But what’s your initial feeling?”

It sucks, I thought. Aloud I added, “I don’t want to leave All Souls, so I’ll give your offer very serious thought.”

Again the partners exchanged glances. Relief was the primary component this time, tinged with incredulity in the eyes of the
three who knew me well.

Hank asked, “When may we expect your answer?”

“Give me till close of business on Wednesday.”

“Fair enough. In the meantime, if you have any questions—”

“I know where to find you.” I smiled wryly at him, got up, and moved toward the door. Behind me I could feel an easing of
the collective tension. I stepped into the hall, shut the door, and started toward the stairs.

On my way past Ted’s desk I asked, “What’s the Latin for ‘between a rock and a hard place’?”

“Sorry,” he said, eyeing me sympathetically, “the book doesn’t say.”

Before the partners’ meeting I’d needed something to take my mind off Hy; now I needed to think of him to keep myself from
brooding. I sat down behind my desk in the window bay at the front of the second floor, swiveled around, and stared moodily
at the houses across the little park. After a while I turned back to the desk, pulled the phone toward me, and dialed the
number of the Spaulding Foundation.

Kate Malloy, Hy’s executive assistant, answered. “You’ve heard from him!” she exclaimed when she heard my voice.

“No, I haven’t, but after I talked with you this morning, I got concerned and did some checking.” Briefly I told her what
I’d found out. “Kate, the phone-company credit card Hy used to make those calls from the airport—would it be his personal
card or the foundation’s?”

“He usually uses the foundation’s and reimburses us for personal charges later. I doubt he even has one for his home phone—you
know Hy and plastic.”

“Will you give me the four-digit code, please?”

She told me, then repeated it. “You’re going to find out who he called?”

“I’m going to try. I gather he uses this American Express card in the same way.” I read her the number I’d copied off the
rental-car contract.

“That’s right.”

“Will you do me a favor and call American Express? I’d like to know if Hy used the card for anything after he rented that
car.”

“Sure. You sound as worried as I’ve been ever since I found out the plane’s still at Oakland.”

“I am. I don’t like the fact that the car was damaged and dropped off by someone other than Hy. While I’ve got you on the
line, will you also give me the name and number of his accountant?”

“Barry Ashford, here in Vernon. I’ll check the phone book.” While she paged through it, she asked, “Why do you want to talk
with Barry?”

“This morning you mentioned that Hy left instructions with him to pay all bills as they come in, and he also paid his ranch
hands two months in advance. I want to know if he gave any explanation.”