In defiance of elevator etiquette, the young woman faced Melanie and made eye contact, looking her full in the face. She was in her twenties, quite attractive in a wholesome sort of way, with wide green eyes and long, light brown hair. She took a step closer, leaning toward Melanie purposefully.
“You’re the prosecutor?” she asked, her voice low and conspiratorial.
“Yes. Why?” Melanie’s heart began to pound. She knew this was important.
The elevator stopped on thirty. As the doors glided open, the young woman snapped around to face the front, her face blank and composed, as if she’d never spoken to Melanie.
A middle-aged man in a charcoal pin-striped suit got on.
“Well, hello, Sarah,” he said pleasantly. “Still buried in that Securilex transaction?”
When the doors opened on twenty-nine a moment later, they both got off. The woman was obviously not willing to be seen speaking to Melanie. Why not? Sarah. Melanie pulled out the manila folder and made a note of the name, nodding to herself. How many young female attorneys named Sarah worked at Reed, Reed and Watson? Shouldn’t be too difficult to track down. Maybe her trip hadn’t been a waste of time after all.
11
THE STREETS AROUND HER OFFICE WERE CLOGGED with cars and buses by the time Melanie got back downtown. It was rush hour, still threatening rain, and everybody in the world seemed to be heading home except her. She sat in traffic waiting to turn into the lot to return the borrowed G-car, stomach tight with anxiety. Where had the day gone? She’d never even called Elsie to ask her to stay late.
Walking into her building, too frazzled to make conversation, she pretended not to see Shekeya Jenkins heading straight for her. But Shekeya spotted her and called out her name.
“Yo, Melanie! Look, I got ’em done at lunchtime!”
Melanie couldn’t help smiling. “Okay, lemme see.”
She held out her hand, and Shekeya placed hers on it, fingers splayed. On each fingernail a white dove decal flew over a multicolored rainbow, set against a pearly blue sky decorated with gemstone stars.
“Wow, Shekeya, they’re amazing!”
“Girl, that woman is an artist. She take half my paycheck, but it’s worth every penny.” Shekeya laughed but then turned serious. “Listen, you a decent person, so I’ma do you a solid. Word of advice: Watch out for the boss today.”
“More than usual?”
“She got it in for you today, girl, most definitely.”
“Why?”
“Beats me, but she just headed to your office with a mad bug up her ass.”
“Oh, great. Just what I need. Thanks, chica.” She squeezed Shekeya’s arm.
Melanie worried the whole way up in the elevator, and rightly so. The security guard buzzed the bulletproof door to let her onto the floor. It opened directly across from her office, revealing Bernadette standing with her arms folded across her chest waiting for Melanie. Two of Melanie’s colleagues, Joe Williams and Susan Charlton, stood near the fax machine halfway down the hall. As Melanie entered, they glanced at her with a combination of sympathy and embarrassment. Everybody in the office seemed to know before she did that she was in for a tongue-lashing.
“Bernadette, what’s up?” Melanie asked, a note of annoyance creeping into her voice. All her boss did was make things harder.
Bernadette jerked her head toward Melanie’s door. Melanie walked in. Bernadette followed, closing the door with a slam. The histrionics were part of her standard repertoire, but they alarmed Melanie nonetheless. What could she possibly be in trouble for?
“What the hell did you think you were doing with Amanda Benson?” Bernadette demanded as they turned to face each other on the small strip of floor between the filing cabinets and the desk. The exhausting day after the sleepless night had taken a toll on Melanie. She walked over to her desk and sat down heavily in her chair.
“Well? Answer me,” Bernadette said, planting herself firmly in front of Melanie’s desk, glaring down at her.
“Randall Walker and I went to interview her. What’s the problem?”
“What’s the problem? Threatening a victim in her hospital bed is the problem! Please, tell me you didn’t really say you’d throw that girl in the grand jury.”
“Her mother wouldn’t let us near her. You would’ve said the same thing.”
“I would not! When the girl is suicidal and the mother as well connected as Nell Benson? Please! You think you’re a hero? All you’re doing is buying us an expensive lawsuit. Use your brain.”
It had started already, exactly the type of pressure Melanie feared when she took on this assignment. She was accustomed to running her own cases without interference, and she liked it that way. Normally Bernadette wouldn’t question her interview tactics. She was much too busy to micromanage like that. Come to think of it, normally Bernadette wouldn’t even know who she was interviewing.
“Did Nell Benson call you or something?” she asked, curious as to how Bernadette had found out. “I just left the hospital a little while ago, and I thought we’d worked out a deal.”
“You thought wrong. She called Lieutenant Ramirez and raised hell.”
“I thought Lieutenant Ramirez was off the case. What’s he doing butting in?” Just what she needed-Ramirez still trying to run the case, meddling through Bernadette.
“Watch your tone! Romulado is friends with the family, and he’s very upset by your behavior. Your so-called interview had all the finesse of a sledgehammer. You need to back off, girlfriend! If you embarrass me, I’ll reassign you for poor performance, and that’ll follow you around for the rest of your career. Is that what you want? Because you know I don’t make idle threats.”
Why on earth had she done this to herself, and at a time when her marriage was in a shambles? Melanie wondered. Work was her refuge, her salvation, especially at moments of personal crisis. She needed to keep her career on track, or she would never be able to handle all her other problems. Even if she choked on it, she had to appease Bernadette.
“Look, Bernadette, I understand that Lieutenant Ramirez is concerned for the Bensons’ welfare. I’m concerned, too. That maniac Slice is still out there. He has a reputation for killing witnesses. I agreed to wait for Amanda’s psychiatrist, but if I wait too long, Amanda could end up dead. I have no intention of having a witness killed on my watch. If you have a better way to handle it, please, tell me.”
“I better, or we’re all in trouble,” Bernadette said. “First off, you need to calm down. The girl has a twenty-four-hour guard posted at her door, so cut the hysterics about witness killing. She’s perfectly safe. Second, you need to handle the family better. It’s all PR. Make a big show of backing off, giving Amanda a chance to get some strength back, so on and so forth. Like you’re doing them a huge favor. Then, in a day or two, try again. If Nell Benson still gives you a problem, that’s when you threaten the subpoena.”
“Whatever you say, Bernadette. As long as we both know that the delay was your decision. A day or two can be a long time in an investigation like this. I don’t want to be accountable for the consequences.”
Melanie’s frankness read like insubordination to Bernadette. She flushed an apoplectic red. “You’re obviously missing the point,” Bernadette hissed. “These complaints about your performance are very awkward for me. I better not hear any others, or you won’t like the consequences. So do like I said.”