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I eyed it for a bittersweet moment. I was so proud of her for bringing this lawsuit, but at the same time, it hurt to think there was probably no more Devlin & Devlin. I felt the loss for her, my parents, John, and even for me. I wished for the umpteenth time that I had graduated and hadn’t screwed things up so badly. Maybe I could have become a lawyer and joined the firm. Now that could never happen.
Dad’s still on track to retire, isn’t he?
My thoughts strayed to my brother, and surprisingly, my heart followed. I knew how terrified he would feel, hearing the evidence the government had against him. I didn’t know if he would plead guilty, and I couldn’t figure it out now. All I could do was feel for him, since I knew how awful it was to be a human being in a cage.
Exhaustion washed over me. I realized I hadn’t slept for hours and I’d barely eaten. My brain was foggy, and I remembered that the bug was still in place. I wondered idly if the FBI had installed it.
I was too tired to figure it out, but I wanted to get this job done and it required a brain. I got up to make a sandwich.
•••
After I ate, I gave Mango her evening shot, then returned to collating. It was dark out by the time I finished, and it turned out that the last two boxes only contained Gabby’s notes and papers, so the task took less time.
I closed the last box and placed the lid on top, feeling a wave of fatigue. I stretched out on the floor, slid my phone out of my pocket, and set my alarm to wake me up at seven o’clock in the morning, in case I slept through the night. That would give me plenty of time to shower, get dressed, and give Mango her morning shot.
Sober Daddy was home.
I closed my eyes and fell into an exhausted sleep.
•••
When I woke up, it was morning and Mango was sleeping curled against my side, her fuzzy chin resting on my arm.
Aw.
But it was oddly sunny in the living room. I felt around for my phone and found it on the rug.
The home screen had gone black. I touched it to turn it on. It didn’t light up. The battery must be dead.
I checked my watch, beginning to panic. It was 10:07a.m. I’d overslept.
“No!” I shouted. I had a slim-to-none chance of making the press conference on time.
Mango woke up and tore away.
I jumped up, frantic. I couldn’t be late. I had the Complaints and press packets. I couldn’t screw this up. I wasn’t even drunk.
I flew into my bedroom.
Chapter Fifty-Three
I dressed and raced out of my bedroom, my tie undone. There was no time to shower or shave. There was only time to medicate the cat. I couldn’t leave without giving her a shot. I wouldn’t be back until midday. I refused to take another chance with her life. Unfortunately, she wasn’t cooperating.
“Mango, please, you love me now!” I begged, but she raced under the couch, then under the bed, then under a chair.
“You slept with me!” I told her, unsure whether I was talking to Mango or Carrie. I took a flying leap and tackled her just as she ran out from under the chair.
I scooped her up, hustled back to the kitchen, and set her on the counter to give her her shot. She had dry food and I’d give her wet later. I had to load the boxes with the Complaints and press packets.
I grabbed a box, ran with it out to the car, and threw it in the trunk. I went back for the next, carrying two this time. I ran back to the car again and again and again, sweating in my suit.
I was down to three boxes. I didn’t need to load the ones with Gabby’s notes, but I didn’t know which ones they were and didn’t have time to look. I loaded boxes until there was only one left andraced out with it, locking the door behind me and scanning the street. I didn’t see anything suspicious.
I ran to the driveway, but suddenly tripped, dumping the box. The lid came off and the papers flew all over the driveway.
I got up, gathered the papers, and started stuffing them in the box. There was a Johnson & Johnson prospectus, printed web pages about Penn’s endowment, financial reporting from Rhone Pharma, and an old newspaper clipping about Fournette Laboratories.
I was about to put the clipping in the box, but a photo caught my eye. It showed a man at a podium, and behind him was a line of men. The one on the end was a man in a corporate blazer with a security patch on the pocket.
