Omens
Page 36
I didn’t call the cab.
Gabriel Walsh was a manipulative bastard who would screw me over if he saw profit in it. But he was also, as Grace said, useful.
In the car, I said, “You’re certain she’s guilty, aren’t you?”
“I have no opinion on the matter either way.”
“Bullshit.”
He looked over.
“You were her lawyer. You must have an opinion.”
He pushed the ignition button. “The fact that I defended her explains exactly why I have no opinion. You want me to say I’m certain she’s guilty so you can forget about her. I won’t do that. Nor will I say I believe she’s innocent and raise false hopes. Whatever you decide, Olivia, I’m not taking any responsibility for it.”
My cheeks warmed. I cleared my throat. “About your offer, the book deal . . .”
He pulled out of the parking space. “You have no intention of entertaining my offer. You never did. You simply needed a way into that prison.”
“I—”
“Don’t deny it. Worse, don’t apologize. I was the only way in, and I wanted something from you, so you used that.”
“So why did you agree?”
“For the same reason I’d take a reluctant client to dinner. Laying the groundwork. In the meantime, five thousand dollars was an acceptable fee for my afternoon.”
“Even if it’s already your money?”
“Money that I’m unlikely to see otherwise.”
When we reached the highway, I said, “There’s something else I’d like. Access to your files on my mother’s case. Not just the official record of the appeal, but your complete file.”
“A lawyer is not permitted—”
“I’ll pay.”
He glanced at me.
“You heard Pamela. She wants me to pass her case on. Reasonably then, one could presume she meant for me to see the file.”
“I doubt that.”
“But it was open to interpretation, and the guard overheard her ask me, so an innocent mistake could be made.”
He’d put his shades back on, but I could feel the weight of his stare.
I continued, “I’ll pay you for your time to discuss the file with me. Or for a consultation, during which you could be called out on business and inadvertently leave it on the table.”
“As amused as I am by option two, the first is preferable. Now let’s discuss my fee.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Gabriel’s price was reasonable. He knew I could get most of the information from the court documents, and I would, if necessary, but I was willing to pay for expediency and the opportunity to discuss it with him . . . which gave him another chance to woo me as a reluctant prospective client. He would return at ten the next morning, despite the fact it was a Saturday.
I needed to work at the diner that night. The regular shifts were seven to three and three to eleven, starting thirty minutes before the seven-thirty opening, then cleaning up for an hour after the diner closed at ten. The other weekday server, Susie, had a second job, so Margie and Susie had arranged their schedules to accommodate it, meaning I could expect to be on an ever-changing mix of days and evenings and even split shifts, opening and closing. Today, because Susie had been called in early, I was due back at seven.
When I stepped out of the apartment building, I found Grace in her spot, glowering at the black cat, now perched on the gate pillar. The feline wasn’t lowering itself to glaring back but simply sat there, yellow eyes fixed on her. I walked over to pet it.
“Don’t encourage him,” Grace snapped.
“But he’s good luck.”
I expected her to say no, a black cat was bad luck, but she only snorted. “Only good luck is his, if he cons you into letting him stay.”
As I walked away, the cat followed, running along the top of the wrought-iron fence. It didn’t meow or try to get my attention, just kept pace with me.
I took the shortcut through the park. When I was close enough to see the fountain, a long shadow slid over the cobblestones. I glanced up. It looked like a crow, but the shadow it cast was huge. A trick of the mind, I supposed. We don’t have ravens in Illinois. But seeing it made me think of the dream with the flayed corpses and huge black birds.
I picked up my pace and the crow’s shadow crossed me twice more. I squinted up, hand shielding my eyes against the sun. The bird was circling erratically. It seemed to be dodging something. Another bird, I presumed, until I realized it was darting away every time it flew too close to the bank’s gargoyles.
I smiled. Nothing terribly sinister about a bird so stupid it couldn’t tell real predators from stone ones.
“Kitty!”
I glanced over at the park. An elderly woman was putting fresh paint on the fence as a mother tried to convince her toddler that it was time to leave. The little girl had found a new excuse to linger—the cat. She was straining in her mother’s grip, both arms reaching for the cat, which had zoomed onto a low branch and crouched there, watching the girl as if considering the potential mauling-to-affection ratio.
I was reaching to give the cat a reassuring pat when the girl screamed. The old woman gasped, and I turned as the raven swooped straight at me. My hands shot up. I saw two black blurs—the bird dropping and the cat leaping for it. The cat managed to claw the raven, but as it fell back to the ground, the bird swooped down and grabbed the cat in its talons. The cat’s scream joined the child’s. I ran and kicked the bird as hard as I could.
It dropped the cat, which started to run, but the bird flew after it. I went after the bird. It was huge, twice the size of the cat. When it dropped low enough, I kicked it again. The old woman shouted, and a rain of stones hit the bird.
It croaked and turned on me. I stood my ground. When it spread its black wings, I got ready to kick it yet again, but the old woman was at my side now. She pitched another handful of pebbles at the bird, shouting, “Go away!”
The bird stopped and eyed us both. Then with a croak, it spread its wings. As it launched into flight, it listed to one side.
“I think I hurt it,” I said.
“Good.” The old woman scowled after the bird. “Nasty things.”
“That was a raven, wasn’t it? It sure looked like it.”
“They aren’t supposed to be here,” she said.
I hesitated. For a moment, I didn’t see a tiny white-haired lady. I saw the girl from my raven dream. Heard her saying to the birds, “Shoo! You aren’t supposed to be here.”
Gabriel Walsh was a manipulative bastard who would screw me over if he saw profit in it. But he was also, as Grace said, useful.
In the car, I said, “You’re certain she’s guilty, aren’t you?”
“I have no opinion on the matter either way.”
“Bullshit.”
He looked over.
“You were her lawyer. You must have an opinion.”
He pushed the ignition button. “The fact that I defended her explains exactly why I have no opinion. You want me to say I’m certain she’s guilty so you can forget about her. I won’t do that. Nor will I say I believe she’s innocent and raise false hopes. Whatever you decide, Olivia, I’m not taking any responsibility for it.”
My cheeks warmed. I cleared my throat. “About your offer, the book deal . . .”
He pulled out of the parking space. “You have no intention of entertaining my offer. You never did. You simply needed a way into that prison.”
“I—”
“Don’t deny it. Worse, don’t apologize. I was the only way in, and I wanted something from you, so you used that.”
“So why did you agree?”
“For the same reason I’d take a reluctant client to dinner. Laying the groundwork. In the meantime, five thousand dollars was an acceptable fee for my afternoon.”
“Even if it’s already your money?”
“Money that I’m unlikely to see otherwise.”
When we reached the highway, I said, “There’s something else I’d like. Access to your files on my mother’s case. Not just the official record of the appeal, but your complete file.”
“A lawyer is not permitted—”
“I’ll pay.”
He glanced at me.
“You heard Pamela. She wants me to pass her case on. Reasonably then, one could presume she meant for me to see the file.”
“I doubt that.”
“But it was open to interpretation, and the guard overheard her ask me, so an innocent mistake could be made.”
He’d put his shades back on, but I could feel the weight of his stare.
I continued, “I’ll pay you for your time to discuss the file with me. Or for a consultation, during which you could be called out on business and inadvertently leave it on the table.”
“As amused as I am by option two, the first is preferable. Now let’s discuss my fee.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Gabriel’s price was reasonable. He knew I could get most of the information from the court documents, and I would, if necessary, but I was willing to pay for expediency and the opportunity to discuss it with him . . . which gave him another chance to woo me as a reluctant prospective client. He would return at ten the next morning, despite the fact it was a Saturday.
I needed to work at the diner that night. The regular shifts were seven to three and three to eleven, starting thirty minutes before the seven-thirty opening, then cleaning up for an hour after the diner closed at ten. The other weekday server, Susie, had a second job, so Margie and Susie had arranged their schedules to accommodate it, meaning I could expect to be on an ever-changing mix of days and evenings and even split shifts, opening and closing. Today, because Susie had been called in early, I was due back at seven.
When I stepped out of the apartment building, I found Grace in her spot, glowering at the black cat, now perched on the gate pillar. The feline wasn’t lowering itself to glaring back but simply sat there, yellow eyes fixed on her. I walked over to pet it.
“Don’t encourage him,” Grace snapped.
“But he’s good luck.”
I expected her to say no, a black cat was bad luck, but she only snorted. “Only good luck is his, if he cons you into letting him stay.”
As I walked away, the cat followed, running along the top of the wrought-iron fence. It didn’t meow or try to get my attention, just kept pace with me.
I took the shortcut through the park. When I was close enough to see the fountain, a long shadow slid over the cobblestones. I glanced up. It looked like a crow, but the shadow it cast was huge. A trick of the mind, I supposed. We don’t have ravens in Illinois. But seeing it made me think of the dream with the flayed corpses and huge black birds.
I picked up my pace and the crow’s shadow crossed me twice more. I squinted up, hand shielding my eyes against the sun. The bird was circling erratically. It seemed to be dodging something. Another bird, I presumed, until I realized it was darting away every time it flew too close to the bank’s gargoyles.
I smiled. Nothing terribly sinister about a bird so stupid it couldn’t tell real predators from stone ones.
“Kitty!”
I glanced over at the park. An elderly woman was putting fresh paint on the fence as a mother tried to convince her toddler that it was time to leave. The little girl had found a new excuse to linger—the cat. She was straining in her mother’s grip, both arms reaching for the cat, which had zoomed onto a low branch and crouched there, watching the girl as if considering the potential mauling-to-affection ratio.
I was reaching to give the cat a reassuring pat when the girl screamed. The old woman gasped, and I turned as the raven swooped straight at me. My hands shot up. I saw two black blurs—the bird dropping and the cat leaping for it. The cat managed to claw the raven, but as it fell back to the ground, the bird swooped down and grabbed the cat in its talons. The cat’s scream joined the child’s. I ran and kicked the bird as hard as I could.
It dropped the cat, which started to run, but the bird flew after it. I went after the bird. It was huge, twice the size of the cat. When it dropped low enough, I kicked it again. The old woman shouted, and a rain of stones hit the bird.
It croaked and turned on me. I stood my ground. When it spread its black wings, I got ready to kick it yet again, but the old woman was at my side now. She pitched another handful of pebbles at the bird, shouting, “Go away!”
The bird stopped and eyed us both. Then with a croak, it spread its wings. As it launched into flight, it listed to one side.
“I think I hurt it,” I said.
“Good.” The old woman scowled after the bird. “Nasty things.”
“That was a raven, wasn’t it? It sure looked like it.”
“They aren’t supposed to be here,” she said.
I hesitated. For a moment, I didn’t see a tiny white-haired lady. I saw the girl from my raven dream. Heard her saying to the birds, “Shoo! You aren’t supposed to be here.”
