J.D. Trafford - Michael Collins 02 - No Time to Die (16 page)

“
You gotta eat.” Michael called over to her.

Jane slowly turned around.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m not that hungry.”

She pushed the stack of papers away.

“I don’t even know why I’m preparing any more. It’s a train wreck.”

“
It’s not that bad,” Michael said. “We can still pray for the DOJ. Your ex might surprise you.”

“
Doubt it.” Jane got up and walked over to the table. She grabbed a small slice of pizza and sat down. “Last night he didn’t sound too hopeful. My guess is that he’s heard how the trial is going and just wants to meet in person to let me down easy.”

“
You’re meeting with him tonight?” Michael asked.

Jane nodded her head, and then looked at the clock on the wall.

“In a couple hours.” She turned back to Michael. “What are you two going to do?”

Michael hesitated. He didn’t want to tell her, but figured he should.

“Kermit has some ideas about Miggy’s testimony. Ways to give it some credibility.”

Jane narrowed her eyes, and then looked at Kermit.

“You’re going to verify the spirits?”

“
Maybe.” Kermit smiled. He took a big bite of his slice of his pizza. “No guarantees, but I think I got a way to make the spirits more tangible to those that are less enlightened and judgmental.”

Jane looked at Michael.

“Have fun.” She grabbed a bottle of water off of the table and started toward the front door. “If you find enlightenment, let me know.”

“
I will,” Michael said. “And if Mr. Justice offers you enlightenment tonight at your meeting, please let us know. I want in on that, too.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Brian
McNaughten handed the drink to his brother Dylan. They were in Brian’s basement. He had seen an article in
GQ
magazine about “man caves.” They sounded cool, and so Brian had sent the article to his architect and had told the architect to make one for him. Three months and $150,000 later, Brian had his own man cave.

It was all dark wood. One end of the room had a flat screen television, big overstuffed leather chairs, and a pool table. The television was surrounded by thick
leather-bound books that Brian had never read. He wasn’t even sure they were real, since he’d never taken one off of the shelf. The other end was an exact replica of the bar at Maggie Malone’s Public House, a tiny Scottish pub in Glasgow.

The two brothers sat on bar stools. They clinked glasses.

“You should have seen them today,” Brian said. “Pathetic.”

“
When’s it over?” Dylan took a drink, staying away from the cocaine during the trial had been hard. He wanted to get back to the clubs. He needed to get back to the clubs.

“
Can’t be more than a few days,” Brian said. “They tried to get some stuff in about Maus. The judge wouldn’t allow it. I don’t know what else they’ve got. Can’t be much.”

Dylan nodded.

“That’s good.”

“
However you got rid of Roberto Estrada was brilliant.” Brian took another sip. “I knew he was gone as soon as they walked in the door. It was all over their faces.”

Brian took an envelope of cash out of his pocket. He put the envelope on the bar.

“Here’s a little insurance. You can take a cut for your other activities, but make sure most of it gets to Maus.”

“
Now?” Dylan wondered. “I thought you wanted me to stay low.”

Usually his brother didn’t care about the work that he did, lately it had been different. Brian was getting more involved, micro-managing. Dylan didn’t like it. His brother was upsetting the balance.

Brian smiled, not picking up on Dylan’s discomfort.

“
Maybe your sense of adventure is rubbing off on me.” Brian drank a little more of his beer. “I want to keep Maus tight, but only for now, and then we need to cut him loose when the trial is over. He’s becoming a problem. People know too much about him. He’s too high-profile.”

Dylan put the money in his pocket.

“Then things can get back to normal, right?”

“
Of course.” Brian stood. “I’ll get out of your hair after the trial.”

“
Good,” Dylan said. “You make shit too complex.”

Brian leaned over. He patted his brother on the shoulder.

“Nothing to worry about,” Brian said. “This will be over soon.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

It was after hours, so Jane called up to be let inside. After a few rings, he answered.

“
It’s me. I’m downstairs.”

Kent came down a few minutes later. He swiped his magnetic card. The door clicked and Kent pushed it open.

“Sorry about having to meet so late.” He ushered Jane inside. “I just figured with the trial that it’d be easier.”

Jane noticed that he wasn’t making eye contact. Another sign that her case against Jolly Boy wasn’t going to get any help from the Department of Justice. Kent was already ashamed, trying to let her down easy.

They walked together. They went past the empty security check points, and then to the elevators. Kent swiped his magnetic card again, and then pressed the button.

The elevator doors slid open. They got inside. Jane looked over at Kent.

“You know you didn’t have to do this. We didn’t have to meet in person. If you can’t set it up … I mean, if you can’t help our case, I understand.”

Jane paused, expecting Kent to answer. He didn’t, so Jane continued to fill the silence as the elevator rose higher.

“It was a stretch asking you … probably even unethical. Maybe it would’ve backfired, too, but I figured you’d know why I was asking. It’s a big case for me.”

She was nervous and she was rambling.

The elevator reached the sixth floor. A bell dinged, and then the doors slid open.

They walked out into the hall, Kent leading and Jane chasing behind.

“So are you not speaking to me now or what?” she asked.

They took a few more steps down the hallway, and Kent stopped in front of the conference room door. He put his hand on the knob, but he didn’t open it. Kent turned to her.

“This got complicated,” he said.

Jane looked at him, searching, but Kent’s expression was blank.

“What do you mean?”

“
I mean it got complicated.” Kent nodded his head, gesturing to what was waiting on the other side of the door. “There are other people involved now.”

Kent turned the knob and opened the door.

Inside, it was a full house. More than a half-dozen people in dark suits crowded around the table with their clerks and assistants in the seats behind them. There were also two big guys, each with an earpiece, a badge, and a gun attached to their belts. They were federal marshals.

A man in a wheelchair rolled out from the far end of the conference room table, and then rolled toward her. He looked like a snake.

“Jane Nance, I am Agent Frank Vatch.” He smiled; attempting to comfort her, but the smile was forced and made a chill run up Jane’s back.

Vatch
held out his hand. Out of habit, Jane took it, weakly.

“
I’ve been hearing about your great work,” Vatch said, gesturing toward an empty seat. “I think we have a lot to talk about. Please sit.”

His tongue flicked out of his narrow slit of a mouth.

“Yes, we have a lot to talk about.” He patted the back of the empty seat. “Please sit.”

###

Jane looked at her watch. They had been going for an hour. She glanced down at her phone, laying on the conference room table. The screen had the date and time and, underneath, a summary: 2 new text messages, one missed call.

Vatch noticed Jane looking at her phone.

“
I’m sorry,” he said. “Do you need to go, Ms. Nance?”

“
Michael is probably wondering what’s going on.”

Jane scanned the faces of the people in the room, all still pretending to be her friend.

“I should be going.”

“
And I hope you understand the need for this conversation to be private.” Vatch spoke slowly for emphasis. “You could be charged with interfering with a federal investigation, if you tip him off.”

“
I think she understands,” Kent said. “Jane knows what she has to do.”

“
Do you?” Vatch asked her. “Do you understand?”

Jane looked at Kent. Her eyes pierced him. Kent was a traitor. If ever there was a chance that they could get back together or even be friends, that chance was gone. He’d set her up.

“I understand the choice,” Jane said. “But I don’t know what I’m going to do. Like I told you, he’s never said anything to me about where he gets his money or much about his past. We talk about work. We talk about our case.”

“
But surely you’ve wondered,” Vatch said. “His behavior and his mysterious background is certainly suspicious.”

Vatch
leaned in, as if he and Jane were the only people in the room.

“
Just find out the truth for us and we’ll help you win your case. It’s pretty simple.”

The phone on the table began to vibrate. Jane picked it up and looked at the screen. The incoming call was from Michael again.

“I have to go.”

She shut the phone off, and then put it in her purse.

“I’ve got some work to do.”

Jane stood, steadied herself, and walked out the door.

###

Outside, the night air was crisp. Jane tried to get control of the growing pit in her stomach. During the meeting, she had tried to be calm. She had tried to play it cool, but now waves of nausea rushed over her body. She vacillated between fear and excitement, courage and guilt, love and anger.

Jane took a few more steps, stopping at the curb.  She turned and looked up at the tall office building.
The Department of In-justice
, she thought. Jane closed her eyes, trying to center herself.

It was a deal with the devil.

Vatch wasn’t lying when he said that they could help her win their case. She had given Justin Kent all the information that they needed, all the feds had to do was act on it.

The opportunity was there. If it worked, she would win. She could finally have the respect she wanted. She’d also get the financial reward that she deserved. It would be national news. She’d be a hero in the legal services community.

All she had to do was sell out Michael Collins.

A deal with the devil
, she thought.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Michael was asleep when Jane finally got back to her apartment. She walked over to the bed without turning on any of the lights. Her eyes adjusted as she stood in the dark, watching him.

Jane thought about what she would be doing if Michael had never come into her life, where would she be? He helped her take risks. He believed in her. But at the same time, he never let her know what was really going on inside his head.

Jane ran through the possibilities. She rationalized how she could live with herself if she turned Michael over to Agent Vatch. Then she pushed away the possibilities and focused on loyalty and trust.
Those counted for something
, she thought,
didn’t they?

Jane took a step toward her nightstand. The floor creaked, and Michael stirred.

“It’s just me,” Jane said. “Go back to sleep.”

“
Long meeting?” Michael asked. “I called a few times. I was getting worried.” Michael pulled himself up, still clouded by sleep. “Anything good happen?” He reached out his hand and Jane took it, then he pulled her into bed with him.

“
Maybe,” Jane said. “Things are happening. I told Justin what was going on with the trial and what we needed.”

“
But he didn’t commit.” Michael rubbed Jane’s back.

Jane shook her head.

“He needs more time to get approval.” Jane lied. “We have to slow things down.”

“
We don’t have too many more witnesses,” Michael said. “Elana should go last. Once she’s called, we should rest our case.”

Jane was quiet. She laid next to Michael, still in her work clothes, but ready to close her eyes and fall back asleep.

Then Michael added, “There’s Miggy.”

Jane couldn’t stop herself from laughing. With everything going on, the thought of
Miggy had cut through the stress.

“
Miggy,” she smiled. “Did Kermit come up with a way to talk to the spirits?”

“
Maybe,” Michael said. “It’s complicated, but it might work.” Michael waited a beat. “But probably not.”

“
Will it delay the trial?” Jane asked.

“
Most definitely,” Michael said. “I’d need to call him now, wake him up, and get him started.” Michael propped himself up higher on the bed. “I could kill the morning with motions while Kermit works on it, but I don’t know what’ll happen.”

Jane rubbed her eyes. She tried to think about it rationally, but everything was a jumble.

“Worst case, I delay the trial a morning and piss off Judge Delaney,” Michael said. “Best case, we cause enough disruption that Judge Delaney quits for the day.”

“Or Judge Delaney throws you in jail for contempt of court,” Jane added.

“Certainly possible,” Michael smiled. There were approximately 500 million reasons why he should be in jail, but contempt of court had not been one of them until now.

“I think we’re losing out minds,” Jane said. “We’re delirious.”

Michael nodded. “So what do want me to do?”

Jane closed her eyes. She had to make a decision.

“Do it,” she eventually said. “We need the time.”