Page 36 of Justice

“Oh, I think you do and so does my employer. As a matter of fact, he is willing to pay the legal fees associated with your release and give you ten-thousand dollars in cash to start your life over. All he asks in return is for you to listen to his proposal.”

“Let me get this straight, this fella you work for is going to get me out of here, pay me ten G’s and all I have to do is listen to him talk?”

“That’s correct. If you don’t like his offer, the ten grand and your freedom are yours to keep. What do you say, Ms. Smith, shall I tell him to expect us?”

CHAPTERTHIRTY

Drake needed a drink,a stiff one, but sadly it would have to wait as he had a lunch meeting that required a level head and quick reflexes. Drunk dick had gotten him into trouble once, and Drake was a quick learner, never making the same mistake twice, so the drink would have to wait. He’d been busy perusing the files his PI obtained from the prison, scanning each profile, every logbook attempting to narrow his search for the person responsible for Deidre’s death. One name stood out to him, and after a lengthy discussion with one of his attorneys, he hoped to know more about the woman soon.

He hadn’t heard from Tobias in a few days, which wasn’t unusual, still, he liked to know how things were going.

“Mr. Hannigan?” Laura’s voice echoed from the speaker on his desk phone. “Your twelve o’clock is here, shall I send her in?”

Drake could feel the beginnings of a migraine coming on. Placing his fingers against his temples, he tries to push off the impending pain.

“Yes, Laura. And see if we have any ibuprofen hanging around.”

“Top drawer of your desk, left-hand side, sir.”

Dropping his eyes to the drawer she indicated, he pulled the handle back, revealing several bottles of medication, including an unopened box of what he needed. He had no idea how or when she had time to do this, but he shouldn’t be surprised. Laura took excellent care of him, anticipated nearly all his needs.

Ripping the seal off the box, he tapped three orange pills into the palm of his hand, popping them into his mouth and swallowing them down dry. Tossing the empty box into the trash as the door to his office opens and in walks the reason for his headache.

“Good afternoon, Drake. You’re looking handsome as always.”

Dressed in a dark suit that didn’t look painted on, her blouse buttoned high enough to cover her recently purchased cleavage, Joanna walks with purpose. She is without her standard sashay as she crosses the room, placing the handled bag in her left hand on the center of his desk.

Drake eyes the logo on the side of the bag, the scripted letter G in the center recognized by most locals and influential people. The wait for a reservation was up to a year, but their legendary food was well worth the anticipation. “Georgiou’s? Pretty impressive for an ordinary Friday lunch.”

Taking the seat behind her, placing the expensive bag on the vacant chair next to hers, “Well this isn’t an ordinary Friday lunch, it’s an apology for how mental I’ve been since Deidre’s death.”

Drake leaned back in his chair, waiting for the cameras from one of those practical jokers reality television shows to pop out and yell gotcha.

“I’m so embarrassed at how I threw myself at you like a common whore. I was so lost in my grief of losing my sister, I ignored that she was your wife, and you remained faithful to her, even in death. It’s my hope, I too can have a man so devoted to me, one who will sacrifice everything for my happiness.” Her voice cracks as she lowers her head, picking an imaginary piece of lint from her dark skirt.

Drake had faced down at least a dozen men who had intentions of killing him, exchanged gunfire with more cops than he would ever admit to, but as he looked in the face of the woman across from him, his blood ran cold. His senses had kicked into high gear, screaming her sudden change could be a trap.

“There’s more,” Joanna starts, a sly smile forming on her face. “I’m pretty sure I’ve found that someone already.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.” Joanna playfully mimicked.

“Do I know this someone?”

“Well, he is an old acquaintance, introduced to me by Deidre during a luncheon at the Monarch Hotel last year. He has been away on business and called me when he returned to town.”

“And does this acquaintance have a name?” Not that he really cared. Joanna having a target other than him was a blessing, but he was curious if she was entertaining a member of a close Family. If so, he was obligated to mention his dealings with her.

“That is all you’ll get from me, Drake Hannigan. The relationship is new, and I don’t want to jinx it. But expect an invitation to dinner as soon as things become more solid.”

Drake was skeptical at best, as was his nature. He hoped, for Joanna’s sake, this mystery man was someone she could count on. Still, he would keep an eye open and his hand on his gun anytime the viper across the room was around.

“Let’s eat, I’m starving,” Joanna announced with enthusiasm, and the warning bells in Drakes' head sounded loud and clear, kicking his brewing headache to the forefront of his mind. The Cavanaugh women did not eat. In the two years he’d been married to Deidre, he’d witnessed a handful of times where she did more than pick at a salad. Fiona drilled it into their heads to remain thin as a rail, impeccably groomed and demanding only the best of everything.

Drake stands from his chair, using the guise of an overzealous curiosity to see what awaits him in the bag. One by one, Joanna removes yet another foil container, a memory of the last time she saw him enjoy it accompanying each container.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” She stops, reaching for the discarded handbag, the name engraved on the silver buckle all too familiar to him. “I found this the other day when I was supervising my wardrobe change out.”