Nat reread the next paragraph, which picked up the narrative:
Holt said no, but Williams kept upping the money. They agreed on three million dollars up front and a million more when Williams escaped. Holt said the construction might "present some opportunity" to get Williams out. Holt said he knew all the C.O.s and he knew which C.O. to "hire" for the job, maybe Graf. Holt also said they would need somebody higher up, too, maybe Machik. Holt said he would take care of it and get back to Williams.
Nat felt sick to her stomach. It was awful even to contemplate. Angus had dedicated his life to law that served the public interest. He would never have done such a thing, and he didn't care about money. His apartment was as no-frills as his office, his wardrobe was nonexistent, and his biggest asset was the Beetle. She had never met anybody so uninterested in material things. Could she have been so wrong about him? She knew him. She loved him.
She read the last paragraph that pertained to Angus:
After that, Holt met two more times with Williams, but I couldn't listen in on them the way I could on Graf and Machik. I am attaching copies of the visitor logs to show that Holt visited Williams three times, and the logs prove that Holt was there. It's true I don't have any proof that Holt followed through. I leave that to you guys. I do think they are covering it up, big-time, because last week I checked the log and the pages about Holt were gone. It's a loose-leaf notebook, so there was no sign they were ripped out, but I knew they were there before, and the copies in here show that.
Nat flipped to the back of the pages, where photocopies of visitor logs had been stapled. There were three separate dates. She ran a finger along the signatures. Sure enough, it was Angus's signature. She knew his handwriting from cards and love notes he'd stuck in her briefcase. From shopping lists, even. They were practically living together. He had his own key. He'd be home later, to spend the night after she got back from her dinner with Barb Saunders.
She set the papers down on the passenger seat and watched old leaves blow across the road, so dry they'd disintegrated into dirty brown fragments. Or it could have been her state of mind. There was no proof that Angus had stayed involved in the conspiracy. What if he had originally agreed to it, then changed his mind? Maybe he had simply pulled out in the end. Of course he wouldn't admit to ever having been involved in the first place, because he'd be too embarrassed and ashamed.
She considered the crossroads. She could go to the left, meet Angus at home, and ask him about the pages. Give the man she loved the benefit of the doubt. She trusted him, and he'd give her the same consideration.
Or she could go to the right, drive to the cops, and turn him in. Show them the pages. They would call him in for questioning. There would be handcuffs. The interrogation room. The media. The electronic flashes. She knew what it would do to him, and to his reputation. She had been there. The accusation equaled the conviction, especially at a law school. He still didn't have all his outreach programs reinstated. It was driving him crazy. And a betrayal like this, from her? It would break him. And break them up.
Nat looked at the crossroads and considered her choices. Left or right? Right or left?
She twisted the key in the ignition and hit the gas.
Chapter 49
“Honey, I'm home!" Nat called from the doorway. It was their standard greeting, and she was trying to keep things as normal as she could before springing the pages on him. But in the next second, she heard the unmistakably festive pop of a champagne cork.
"Hey, girl!" Angus came out of the kitchen beaming and holding a bottle of champagne in one hand and two crystal flutes in the other. He was wearing a workshirt she loved with jeans, and he looked so at home in her apartment, with the lighting soft and the books surrounding them both, a perfect backdrop for two law professors. The sight made her heart ache, and she prayed he had a good explanation, one that would make it all go away.
"Champagne?" she said.
"We're celebrating. I settled that case with the city today." Angus gave her an exuberant hug and a warm kiss, but Nat made herself stay on task.
"You did? That's great!" She managed a smile, slid out of her coat, and put it and her purse on the chair.
"The city solicitor gave up the ghost. We proved that the poorer sections of the city don't get waterlines repaired as quickly as the middle-class sections."
Nat remembered the details. He cared so much about that case. It had kept him up for nights on end.
"We had two great experts submit reports and they compared response times to water main breakages in Philly with those in other major cities. When we flunked, the city guy caved in." Angus set the two glasses on the coffee table and poured champagne into one. "We got a very nice settlement and a consent decree, so we can nail their asses for the next five years if they step out of line." He handed Nat the full glass, then poured himself one. He looked at her with a slight frown. "You look a little down. Was it tough, seeing Barb?"
"Well, yes. Kind of."
"First, a toast." Angus raised his glass, his smile so kind and his eyes the softest blue, focused, as usual, on her. "To you, who inspire me to great things."
"To you, too," Nat said quickly, then sipped the champagne, because it would be easier to swallow than the lump in her throat.
"So tell me." Angus sat down and rested the glass on his thigh. "Come sit next to me and tell me how it went."
"Uh, not yet." Nat remained standing, gathering her nerve. "I have a strange question."
"Sure. But no sitting?" Angus patted the couch.
"Not yet."
"Okay."
"Did you ever meet Williams? I mean, before?"
"What do you mean?" Angus frowned. Not deeply, just simply. Puzzled.
"I mean, did you ever meet Richard Williams at the prison?"
"Let me think." Angus cocked his head. "No, not that I remember. Why? Did Barb say I had? How would she know?"
Oh, no. "Well, she wasn't sure. She just said she thought so." Nat hadn't thought he'd deny it, so she had nowhere to go right away. "She said she heard that you were going to be his lawyer at some point.
"Me?" Angus chuckled. "Me, represent a gangbanger like that? I don't think so."
Nat felt her face grow hot. "But you represent other inmates. You do criminal work."
"Not guys like Williams. They're a specialty. I'm not in the pinky-ring set."
Nat didn't get it. He was denying it. Why would he deny it? She sank into the chair opposite him.
"What?" Argus blinked. "Is something the matter? Are you sick?"
Heartsick.
"What's the matter, sweetie?"
"I don't understand." Nat set down the glass, went to her purse, and got the papers. "I have to ask you some questions, and I need you to tell me the truth. Because I love you, and I trust you."
"Okay," Angus said quietly. "Is this a game?"
"No." Nat kept the papers on her lap. "I found these papers at Barb's house. Her husband wrote them. Ron. He says that you met with Williams three times. He made copies of the sign-out logs to prove it."
Angus remained still. His expression didn't change.
"Now do you remember seeing Williams about being his lawyer?"
"No, honestly I don't." Angus held out his hand. "Can I see the papers? There must be a mistake."
"Wait a minute." Nat kept the papers on her lap. "He said that he overheard you and Williams make a deal to get him out for three million dollars. He thinks that you were in the conspiracy with Graf and Machik and Parrat."
Angus's eyes flared an outraged blue. "That's absurd!'
"I know it is, which is why I didn't go to the police. I love you, and I know it's absurd, and I wanted to give you a chance to explain. Because I know you would never do anything like that."