“That’s just not true,” said Jack.
Andie gestured, telling Jack to stay out of it. Then she put another question to Rivera: “Did Celeste’s friend tell you who put up the money?”
“She doesn’t know, and we’re still trying to find out. Mr. Swyteck, you got any ideas?”
“I told you it’s not true,” said Jack.
“Don’t get defensive,” said Rivera. “I didn’t accuse you. I asked if you had any idea who might have done it.”
Again, Jack’s first thought was the man who had met Sydney at Opa-locka Executive Airport. But he still didn’t trust Rivera. “No, I don’t have any leads,” said Jack.
“Well, if any names come to mind, you be sure to let us know.”
“Will do,” Jack said.
Rivera had to take another call, so Andie thanked him and hung up. Jack was thinking about his case against BNN, but even his best poker face couldn’t stop Andie from reading his mind.
“You already told the Laramores that you would take their case, didn’t you?” Her question sounded more like a statement.
“Yes, I did.”
“You seriously plan to sue BNN?”
“Yup.”
Andie tucked her phone into her purse, then gave him a troubled look. “You like the publicity, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
She glanced toward the playing field, as if measuring her words, then looked right at Jack. “When we got engaged, you weren’t such a publicity hound. Tell me what’s going on?”
“Andie, this isn’t about the publicity.”
“Don’t kid yourself. If it weren’t about the publicity, you would have done the legwork, just like Rivera did. You would have talked to Celeste Laramore’s friend and realized that this is not a good case.”
“Hannah did call her. She wouldn’t talk to us.”
“Didn’t that tell you something?”
“Yeah, it tells me I need to file a lawsuit so I can get a subpoena issued and take her deposition. That truth is, it doesn’t matter if Celeste was hired to be a Sydney Bennett look-alike. The fact that she voluntarily put herself into an angry crowd might be an issue if we sue the correctional facility for providing inadequate security, but it doesn’t excuse what BNN did to her after she got hurt.”
“Exactly what did BNN do?”
“I can’t get into details. The judge issued a gag order before we could even file the complaint-which should only prove to you that I’m not doing this case for the publicity.”
“Fine. It’s not about publicity. The real issue-like always-is the clients you choose to represent.”
“Are you comparing Celeste Laramore to accused criminals now?”
“No. But Celeste obviously has something to hide. Don’t you think you should know her secrets before you haul off and file a lawsuit against one of the biggest media companies in the world?”
“You’re not hearing me, Andie. For purposes of our claim against BNN, it wouldn’t matter if Celeste Laramore had gone to that parking lot to set the building on fire and steal a getaway car. Once she got hurt, BNN had no right to interfere with her getting the medical treatment she needed.”
“Well, you’re the lawyer. But this can’t help your case.”
“There’s no such thing as a perfect client. Unless you’re a probate lawyer.”
“I just don’t want you to end up looking foolish.”
“If I tried to unravel every surprise before filing a lawsuit, I’d never file a lawsuit.”
“I’m not talking about every surprise. Damn it, Jack. Do you think it’s fun for me to turn on the television and watch the commentators make fun of you? I’ve never told you this, but every time Faith Corso blasts you, I get e-mails from other agents. The last one came from the head of our public-corruption unit and said something like ‘Looks like “MISTER Andie Henning” stepped in it again.’”
“Cop humor,” said Jack. “Lovely.”
“Fine. Dismiss it. But I don’t see why you can’t at least check this out before you file.”
Jack was already committed to the case, but there was no need to be a cowboy, even when trying to help a twenty-year-old college student in a coma. This was going to be a very public fight, and a little more sensitivity to the impact on the people in his life wasn’t too much for Andie to ask. “All right. It can’t hurt to make one more run at Celeste’s roommate before the complaint is filed,” he said as he dialed Hannah’s number.
“You’re suing BNN today?”
“And Faith Corso.”
“Oh, my God,” Andie said, groaning.
Hannah was on the line. She was riding in an open convertible, yelling into her cell above the wind noise, which forced Jack to hold the phone a comfortable distance from his ear, even if it did mean that Andie could overhear. “I was just about to call you with an update,” Hannah shouted.
“Has the complaint been filed yet?” asked Jack.
“Yessiree. Filed under seal this morning at nine-oh-five. BNN was served at nine thirty.”
Jack was silent.
“Jack?” said Hannah. “Are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Is everything okay?”
Jack looked at Andie. The glare she shot back at him could have melted steel. Professionally speaking, he was perfectly fine with letting the lawsuit go forward. The question was how to deal with the personal reality that his fiancee clearly wasn’t.
“Yeah,” Jack said into the phone. “Everything is just dandy.”
Chapter Nineteen
Jack took an afternoon ride into Little Havana.
Every available minute after his meeting with Andie had been devoted to legal work for paying clients, but at two P.M. he had a follow-up with Rene, who had promised there was more to the case against BNN. He needed all the ammunition he could get. He took Theo with him, knowing that if he was to stay off the FBI’s “unwanted” list, there should be no more one-on-one meetings with old girlfriends.
Theo drove with his usual disregard for speed limits. They reached San Lazaro’s Cafe fifteen minutes ahead of schedule and grabbed the same table that Jack and Rene had shared, the old map of Cuba right behind Jack’s head. Theo ordered a double espresso. Jack’s adrenaline was already pumping, no need for any more caffeine.
“Where’s Bejucal?” asked Theo, studying the map on the wall.
Bejucal was the birthplace of Jack’s mother. He turned and pointed. “Right outside Havana. I’m impressed you remembered it.”
“Got a history lesson from Abuela the night you were in the emergency room.”
“Really. How did that come up?
“Mostly her carrying on about how the threat against ‘someone you love’ couldn’t possibly mean her.” Theo put on a sad face, speaking in Abuela’s broken English. “Jack no call me. He no visit. Mi vida no love me no more.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. I call her every day.”
Theo chuckled as he stirred a pack of sugar into his cup. Jack loosened his tie, reached inside his collar, and massaged his neck. The bruises were fading, but it still hurt at times.
“You packin’ a Glock these days?” said Theo.
“No.”
“I am. Just give me the word, dude. I’ll find that guy and give him a lot more than a pain in the neck.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Sort of.”
“I’m leaving things to the FBI. For the time being, anyway. But now that you mention it, there is someone I need to track down.”
“Who?”
“This morning I found out that someone actually did hire Celeste Laramore to show up at the detention center looking like Sydney.”
“No shit?”
“Totally serious. I spoke to Ben Laramore on the phone over the lunch hour, and he fully believes that it wasn’t me who hired her. But we agreed that we need to find out who did. I was thinking you could maybe help with that.”
“You want me to interview a girl in a coma?”
“No, moron.”