JAMIE SUTHERLAND'S OFFICE IS LOCATED ON ONE of the posh top floors of a high-rise that has come to be known as the Darth Vader building. It's tall, black and pierces the skyline like a sword. Her door says "Sutherland, Talmadge and Gates, Attorneys at Law." Her name is first. Senior partner. For one so young, it's quite impressive.
I called to let her know we were on the way and she's waiting for us in the reception area. I introduce her to Jason as she leads us into a book-lined corner office with a view as impressive as her title. Once we're settled into richly upholstered visitors' chairs, she urges Jason to begin.
Jamie listens to Jason's story with sober concentration. She lets him talk without comment or interruption. For his part, Jason does exactly what I told him. He doesn't mention the gun or the hotel room. When he's done, she crosses her arms over her chest and leans back in her chair.
"When your father was telling your mother that he thought someone was after him, did he mention a name?"
Jason frowns. "I don't remember-" He lapses into silence, then after a moment, sits up straighter in his chair. "Wait. He didn't mention a name exactly, but he did say it was a doctor on the research team, one of the directors, I think."
I point to the newspaper I brought with us. "All the directors are listed in this article. They're also all plaintiffs in the suit being brought against O'Sullivan's estate."
She picks up the article. "Well, being cut out of a billion-dollar deal would definitely cause hard feelings. What I'm wondering, though, is why kill him if you're planning to sue?"
I think of the questions I was going to ask my dad when I read the article the first time. "What if the suit had no merit? Jason said his dad told Laura he'd cost a colleague a lot of money. It seems to me that O'Sullivan was a shrewd enough businessman to have made sure he owned the rights to any marketable formulas his team came up with. So maybe what he did wasn't illegal, but it certainly would have pissed off somebody who'd expected to share in the profits. With O'Sullivan dead, it'd be far easier to deal with Mrs. O'Sullivan, coerce her to settle simply to avoid a nasty court battle."
"Laura definitely wouldn't want a battle," Jason says bitterly. "Dad's only been gone a couple of days and she's already got lawyers checking into how much of my father's estate I'm entitled to and how much is hers. She's even contacted my grandparents to see if I can live with them. She wants to get me out of her life as quickly as she can. She'll want to get this suit settled, too."
Jamie taps a manicured fingernail against the arm of her chair. "I'm going to call Detective Harris. Jason, I want you to tell him what you told me. He's already suspicious of some of the things your stepmother said. For instance, the police have determined there were no irregularities with the books at the restaurant. There is no proof that your father and Gloria were having an affair. Now that he's gone, all she has is suspicion. Gloria certainly won't testify about it. We won't get Gloria off this minute, but we can point Harris in another direction. It's a start."
Jason doesn't look convinced, but he does agree to talk to Harris. While Jamie makes the arrangements, I ask him if he wants me to stay. I'm relieved when he says no. I still have business to settle with Sandra, and the sooner I attend to it, the sooner I'll feel safe in my own skin.
Before I leave the lawyer's office, I take Jamie aside. I give her my father's number in case she has questions about O'Sullivan's dealings with Benton Pharmaceuticals. I also give her the invitation. She recognizes the implications immediately. Then I tell her where Jason spent last night. She doesn't ask why or if Laura kicked him out, and I don't volunteer it. Jason is a minor, and she says she'll make sure he gets home when they're finished. From her tone, I have a feeling she's hoping Laura will give her a reason to exercise some legal muscle against her. I do, too.
After that, I'm on my own. Up to this point I've given no thought as to how I'm going to take care of my problem with Sandra. I know what I have to do, find that talisman. Maybe Tamara can help.
This time, when I call her, she picks up.
"Anna. I was about to call you."
"Yeah. I'm sure."
"Did David tell you he's cooking dinner for me tonight?"
Not if I can help it. "Yes, but I need to talk to you first. About Sandra's problem."
There's a moment of dead air. "You believe me now?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Is that important? Do you want my help or not?"
"Where are you?"
"On my way to Avery's."
"Good. We'll be waiting."
