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“Thanks, Mary. You’re right.” She shuffled through the cards. Trevor, Arthur Schon, and William Davidson; all three were Special Agents.
“And you look perfect, too.” Mary snickered. “Show him what he’s missing.”
Sam couldn’t hold back a chuckle. She’d changed a lot from that insecure girl in high school who hung on Trevor’s every word and sighed over his pitiful, inadequate romantic gestures. Back then, she’d done everything she could to minimize Trevor’s unwarranted jealousy. She didn’t talk to boys outside of class and wore baggy jeans with oversized hoodies, low ponytails, and no makeup. The look also minimized her father’s harsh commentary, although he wanted her to wear Amish-style dresses.
After Mills broke up with her, she’d learned to make her looks work for her. She wore her long auburn hair in a professional updo and accented her features with light makeup. Her emerald green blouse with black skinny trousers and a pair of green heels were professional and sexy. She could easily be both, no matter what the grouchy old men claimed. Their reactions weren’t her problem or fault, no matter how they tried to blame others. “Thanks, Mary.”
But as she strolled to the conference room, all those old feelings of inadequacy flooded back, along with the ghost of grief. Or tried to. Sam kicked her emotions to the curb, bringing her courtroom persona forward. She’d be fair but firm. She opened the conference room door and took one step inside, leaving the door open. “Gentlemen. I only have a few minutes. What can I do for you?”
“We’ll take all the time we need. Sit down and listen.” The man sitting closest to the door sneered at her. His black suit was shiny, like polyester ironed too hot. It fit poorly, and his thin, gray-streaked hair hung in greasy strands.
Sam stared into the rude man’s eyes until he shifted in his seat, then raised her eyebrows. “No. As a matter of fact, my time has just run out. Good day, gentlemen.” She took a tiny step back, expecting a negative reaction from the relic.
“Davidson, arrest her for RICO violations.” He jabbed the shoulder of the man sitting next to him. Davidson, a middle-aged white man with brown hair, wore a plain black suit. He could easily fit into any corporate environment. He didn’t move, ignoring the older agent.
“Really, Special Agent…” Sam looked down at the card in her hand. An act; she had an excellent memory. “Schon.” She met his gaze again. “You’d better tell me exactly what those charges are for and in relation to whom. You really should know better than to threaten an attorney at law.” She leaned toward him, keeping eye contact. “Or did you think that since I only work civil cases that I know nothing about criminal law? That is a very poor assumption. And you know what they say about assumptions.”
Schon’s mouth gaped like a big-mouth bass. Sam held back a smile.
Trevor said, “Sam—”
She spun toward the third man in the room, the one she’d ignored, looking at the table in front of him. She wasn’t engaging in a stare-off with her past. “Special Agent Mills, I don’t remember allowing you the courtesy of using my first name. As I said, good day. I will send you the name and number of my lawyer should you be so foolish as to charge me with a crime. Especially for racketeering and criminal enterprise when I have nothing to do with either.” She turned but paused in the doorway, giving them one more chance.
Trevor said, “Ms. Kerr, we really need your help. Please listen. It involves Deb’s Bakery and would ultimately help your friends avoid any more unpleasantness with John Scott and TriWestCo Holdings.”
She turned again, looking at Trevor’s eyebrows. Meeting his gaze was more than she could handle at the moment. “I am the attorney of record for Deb’s Bakery. I intend to continue in that role. Any involvement in that matter would be a conflict of interest, and I’m bound by attorney-client privilege, which you should know.”
Trevor shook his head. “Ms. Kerr, there’s no conflict with your representation of Deb’s Bakery. We would appreciate your help.”
She stared at him, then at Davidson who wisely said nothing, and back to Schon, who opened his mouth. She couldn’t trust them. They’d twist her words and arrest her. She needed legal help from someone used to dealing with overzealous federal agencies. She shook her head. “After threatening me? Not without my attorney present. Set up an appointment with my assistant for next week. Good day, gentlemen.” She left the room but paused outside in the hall, listening.
Mary stood there, mouthing, “Good job!”
“Mills, you screwed this all up.” Schon hissed the words.
“I screwed this up? Are you insane? Nobody threatens to arrest a lawyer without cause. You’re done. Go back to whatever basement they dragged you out of.” Chairs scraped.
Sam and Mary trotted across the lobby, avoiding the worst of the creaks. At least Mills showed a little intelligence. Mary slid into her chair, shooing her away. “I got this.” She grinned.
Sam slipped inside her office but left the door cracked. She’d avoided looking at the man, but if Mary needed help, she’d wade in. No ex could make her cower, no matter how cringe-worthy her behavior had been. His had been worse.
Trevor said, “Ms. Walker, Ms. Kerr said she’d have time next week, but is there any way we can get an appointment sooner? I’m very sorry for my colleague’s behavior.” He sounded sincere, but federal agencies bent the truth when it served them. Trevor had always been charming, and he’d probably improved those skills in the FBI.
“She’s in court all day tomorrow and doesn’t take Friday appointments.” Mary’s tone was hostile. “You said this was a time-critical matter?”
“Yes. Please. We really need her help.”
Trevor’s begging improved Sam’s mood. She texted Mary a thumbs-up. She’d talk to them, but waiting until next week would give her time to find the best lawyer for the job.
“I can fit you in next Wednesday afternoon at two. That’s the best I can do.”
“That would be fine, Ms. Walker. Thank you, and I hope the rest of your day is great.”
Muttering accompanied shuffling feet and fabric rubbing, then the door slammed. Sam opened her door and leaned in the doorway. “Are you okay? I was going to step in, but you handled that throwback so well. You didn’t need me.”
Mary huffed a chuckle. “That guy was something else, wasn’t he? I’ve got to say I’m disappointed in our federal employees. First, we get a couple of newbies shuffling around town asking ridiculous questions and making demands. Now we get an old-fashioned bigot who thinks the FBI can act like the Gestapo. At least Trevor was reasonable.” She waggled her brows. “He’s aged well. Matured, even. Going to give him another shot?”
Sam shivered. “No. Those days are gone. I’m a very different person. He’s just someone I used to know.” She’d never go back to the days when his smallest wish was her command. He wasn’t getting another chance at betrayal.
