I squirmed in my chair. I didn’t want to undermine her self-confidence. I didn’t want her to second guess her plan. But, dammit, I found that I was legitimately worried about her. For her. For her safety. Not because I was afraid for a lawyer who might not be able to put away a disgusting criminal.
But because I was scared that this particular lawyer, Theresa, could get hurt.
In which case, I’d have to kill Larroca with my own bare hands. Which I’d have rather avoided. It could have led me into other messes I’d have just as soon steered clear of.
“Theresa, please listen to me,” I said. “You have to be careful. It’s not over yet. Larroca isn’t just going to roll over.”
“You’re starting to sound patronizing.”
“That’s not my intention.”
“Let me ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“Is this concern coming from your position as a professional? Or something else?”
I hesitated. Was she calling me out? Could she sense my feelings for her? There was a tone in her voice that I could almost have mistaken for flirtation. Maybe it really was flirtation? I was not sure how to answer. “I have more dirt to share on Larroca’s plans. It might be helpful beyond putting him away. I’d hate for anything to happen to you before our meet-up tonight.”
“I’ll be careful,” Theresa replied, a softness in her voice, now.
“Promise me.”
“I promise you. Besides, I’m surrounded by police. Captain Mallory is here, plus a bunch of his most loyal officers.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. The police. Shit. Why hadn’t I thought about that before?
“Theresa,” I said hurriedly, “did it ever occur to you why Larroca is able to get off free as a bird so much of time?”
“It’s what I spend all my days thinking about.”
“Maybe it’s because he’s got cops on his rather extensive payroll.”
“I’m not stupid. I know that he does. But Captain Mallory and I have worked on cases together for years. I’m not—”
There was silence on the other end.
“Hello? Hello?”
Her line had gone dead. The call disconnected.
Something had gone wrong.
I hopped out of my chair, grabbing my gun on the way out the door.
11
Theresa
The minute O’Neill and Ox coughed up the information we needed, two officers popped in to roughly drag them away.
“What are you going to do with us?” Ox asked. There was fear in his eyes.
“Nothing,” I told him. “You’re not being charged with anything. You’re free to go. And you have my thanks for the terrific information you’ve provided.”
“You’re just putting us back out on the street?” O’Neill squealed.
“You’re welcome,” I said politely.
“If you don’t take care of Larroca, we’re dead,” Ox told me as the cops dragged him through the door.
“Oh, we’ll take care of him. Don’t worry.”
The minute the door closed after them, I turned to the two-way mirror. I made eye-contact with myself, but pictured Captain Mallory on the other side.
“We’ve got him,” I exhaled. “We’ve really, really got him.”
“Seems like,” Mallory’s voice said, coming over a speaker in the ceiling above me. “You’ve just set me up with a ton of paperwork.”
“Happy to help.”
“You better be.”
I spent the next little while working with Mallory at his desk.
“I’m going to watch you like a hawk, Captain,” I told him.
“Is that right, Ms. Brannigan?”
“Make sure you cross every t and dot every i. This is the best chance we’ve ever had to nail Larroca. There’s no way that I’m going to see him get off on a technicality because we rushed the paperwork.”
“I don’t make mistakes on my paperwork,” Mallory assured me.
“Can’t wait to see a perfectionist at work, then.”
Mallory rolled his eyes and went back to his computer. He hunted and pecked at the keyboard while I paced anxiously.
“Relax, Ms. Brannigan. You’ve done it. Larroca will be going away for a long time.”
“Why don’t you sound more excited? Larroca’s been literally getting away with murder for years. Not to mention getting away with anything and everything else he can think of. Aren’t you a little excited to be this close to ruining him once and for all?”
“I suppose,” he said. He was just as dour as ever, unfortunately.
Maybe that’s what makes him a good cop, I reflected.
As for me, I couldn’t remember the last time I felt that good about anything. The elation at the waiting open-and-shut case had me sailing.
So many times, as a prosecuting attorney, you knew that you were sending someone away who maybe didn’t have any better options. The crime they’d committed wasn’t because they were a sociopath, or evil. They’d just been desperate. Or made a mistake. Those desperate acts and those mistakes still came with consequences, obviously. But sometimes there was a part of you that wished there was another way.
Not with Larroca. Prison would be too good for him. The death penalty would be too good for him. If only we’d had some more arcane forms of punishment for bastards like Antoine Larroca. Seeing his balls squished in a vice would’ve been a more fitting punishment.
Still, I couldn’t wait to see that smarmy grin of his freeze on his face when he found out he was going to jail for the rest of his life. That would be so, so worth it.
“All right. Just need to print all this out,” Mallory rose and turned for his office door.
“Where are you going?” I asked, my eyes looking at the silent printer on his desk.
“I’m out of ink. Besides, the printer in the bullpen is faster. I’ll be right back. Why don’t you meet me out front, Ms. Brannigan?”
Mallory popped out of the office. I grabbed my things and headed outside.
There was a pep in my step, no doubt about that. I wanted to call Fixer. Tell him how magnificent I’d been in the interrogation room. How quickly I’d gotten Ox and O’Neill to squeal.
Tell him how desperate I was to celebrate with him. Skin to skin, as it were.
Slow your roll there, counselor, I cautioned myself. One thing at a time.
Still, the news was too good to not share with him. Once I was out in the open, I headed around to the side of the building where there’s less noise and made a call.
“You grab ‘em?” The Fixer asked when he picked up the phone. I don’t know why, but his not even bothering to say ‘hello’ struck me as hot.
Who was I kidding? Everything about that man stuck me as hot.
We talked for a few minutes and he started to kill my buzz. Urging caution, caution, caution. Warning me like I was new to this game.
It started to depress me. Did he really think I was that naïve, or stupid?
Then I started to recognize something in his voice. A certain emotion.
He’s worried about me, I thought. Like he cares or something.