Page 7 of No More Lies

When she landed a job at the prestigious law firm McCormick and Michaels, Steve had been thrilled. She had worked her ass off and was being considered for the partner track. It had been her dream, and she was making it happen. Her determination and dedication were about to pay off. Hell, she’d be earning over twice what he did. No one joined the military for the pay. He had no doubt she would achieve junior partner soon. She’d probably be named senior partner. His angel could do anything.

Diane was a successful, professional woman, surrounded by successful, professional men and Steve hated the feeling of jealousy that surfaced now that he thought about that. He didn’t believe Diane would cheat on him, but there were a lot of handsome men at her firm. Men that were on the same level as her intellectually and didn’t wield a gun for a living. Heck, even Dex had jumped quickly to the idea. He wasn’t an idiot, but his knowledge of explosives, guns, war, terror and tactical operations was in a completely different league to lawyering. Had she outgrown him? Was that the reason she was spending so much more time at the office?

He understood she needed to put in extra hours to prove herself to her firm. He didn’t like it and had moaned at first, but then he realized he was being a selfish bastard and tried to adapt. The hours kept increasing and Diane had become more and more distant, as it seemed her whole life was consumed by work. Also, there was a sadness about her he hadn't seen before. They had always been so good together.

Now with the Onyx gig, he was home way more. It should have been perfect, more time to spend as a family, as a couple, him making up for all those long deployments when Diane had been so understanding and patient. What had happened to the close, loving couple they used to be? Now they barely saw each other, and every time he tried to talk to her, she shut him down or blamed work. They still made love, although nowhere near as often as they used to. However, she rarely initiated it. Their sex life had always been hot, and Diane was still as passionate in bed as she had always been. It was the only time he felt close to her these days. But they no longer cuddled, held hands, or made out when Megan wasn’t looking. All things they used to do. Instead, they were spending less and less time together. Was this the norm after nine years of marriage? He sure as hell didn't want it to be. It was time to make Diane take a break, sit down and talk, before they passed the point of no return.

***

DIANE SAT AT HER DESK, in her beautiful office in downtown San Diego. She loved this office with its floor to ceiling windows and view of the ocean. Beautiful bookcases lined the walls, filled with years of reference material she could always get lost in. A gorgeous oak desk sat in front of the windows with soft leather chairs. It was perfect. The picture she had envisioned since she was a little girl had come to life. Except she barely noticed it. Always too busy pouring over her current case.

Vladimir Volkov, born in Russia, had moved to California at age ten with his parents. His father built a successful company, which Vladimir had taken over following his father’s death last year. Volkov had a child by a woman named Natasha Winters from a one-night stand two years ago. He had supported both mother and child and everyone had been happy with the arrangement until Volkov decided he was returning to Russia permanently. He wanted to take his daughter, Anya, with him. Natasha would not hear of it.

So here they were in a custody battle.

Diane had just come from a meeting with Sydney Michaels and David McCormick, the two named partners. The firm had taken this case after Volkov had fired his previous family lawyer, Arnold Janssen, when arbitration had failed. Over the past weeks reviewing the case, Diane had found an alarming number of red flags and brought them to the partners’ attention. That meeting had not gone how she thought it would.

Arnold Janssen, Volkov’s former lawyer, seemed to have disappeared. She had reached out, hoping Mr. Janssen might be open to answering some questions, but none of her voicemails had been returned. A quick review of Volkov’s finances included large amounts of money into offshore accounts. Suspicious wire transfers that did not match any contracts. Then there was the accusation he had hit Natasha.

Diane had laid out her concerns in detail, wanting permission to dig deeper. She had questioned whether they should be representing Volkov at all, especially since he was planning to return to Russia. Her concerns had been shut down. Firmly.

“Diane, I must say that we are disappointed. You heard Mr. Volkov say himself, that Ms. Winters was...accident prone...unstable...bruised easily. There were no charges laid for abuse of any kind until he told her he was returning to Russia. Our client has provided for Ms. Winters in every way possible. Her own house, a healthy allowance, a car. Everything she needs.” Sydney had spoken through pursed lips, as if he was talking to a child.

“Sydney, his whole life looks shady. The offshore accounts, the wire transfers. You must see that? There is a war going on in the Middle East, not to mention Ukraine and Russia. Unaccounted for transactions involving those countries need to be investigated, no?”

“Mr. Volkov’s business dealings are not your concern, and we are a little perturbed that you are insinuating that as named partners we are missing something in his business affairs. I handle his business personally. There is nothing...shady...it’s just how his business operates. Every transaction can be accounted for. You are not his corporate lawyer, so leave that to those of us that are.”

“I wasn't insinuating. I just...” She trailed off, looking to David for support, but he did not provide any. Clearly, the two partners were united on this.

“Let me be clear. Mr. Volkov brings in thirty percent of our revenue. He refers other influential and high-value clients to this firm. He was not happy with Arnold Janssen, after the disastrous arbitration hearing, so he came to me for a recommendation for a new lawyer. I recommended you. Was I wrong to do that?”

She’d taken a step back. “No.”

“Good. We have a duty to represent him and get him the custody arrangement he wants.”

“He plans to return to Russia. Is he closing his business?”

“Did you not hear me when I said his business is not your concern? Now, if you do not think you are...capable...to handle this junior partner level case, then we can certainly rethink our decision and appoint someone else.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Then I suggest you focus less on his business and more on Ms. Winters. We go to court in one week. Mr. Volkov has provided you with witnesses, evidence of drug use, alcohol. Everybody has a price. Everybody has skeletons in the closet. Find Ms. Winters’ and use them.”

Diane had felt sick. She did not become a lawyer to discredit innocent people, and her gut was telling her Natasha Winters was innocent. Volkov was undoubtedly doing some shady shit, but suspicious activity wouldn't stand up in court. What were her options? Refuse? Investigate anyway? She might as well quit. Doing any of those things would end her career anyway.

McCormick and Michaels could destroy her reputation. Then what? How would she and Steve pay off their debt, and put Megan through school? How would she face her family and Steve if she failed after everything they had done for her? Christ, Steve risked his life for others in his job, and she was complaining about a shady client?

Hearing her office door open, she looked up and froze. Vladimir Volkov strode into her office like he owned it. Another man she recognized as his personal bodyguard, stepped inside and closed the door behind him. She never quite understood why a businessman needed a full-time bodyguard. Perhaps because he’s involved in some shady shit.

“Mr. Volkov. I wasn't expecting you.” Diane stood, smoothing down her dress.

“Mrs. Williams, I was hoping to have had a positive update by now?” Despite his Russian descent, Volkov’s English was perfect and bore only a slight accent. He’d been primarily raised in the US when his parents moved here, chasing the American dream, disillusioned by what was happening in Russia. They had succeeded in building a chemical transportation company, worth well over a billion dollars, which boasted contracts worldwide.

Volkov settled comfortably in the chair opposite Diane, still waiting for a response.

“It’s taken a bit longer than expected to prepare,” she said, “especially as I couldn’t reach your former lawyer, Arnold Janssen.” Why did he make her feel so uncomfortable? “I was hoping to ask him some questions.”

“I fired him. There is no reason to talk to him. Sydney Michaels assures me you are the best person for the job. I hope he isn’t wrong.”

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