Page 47 of Breaking His Law

Having read the articles online about her marriage to one of the richest men in television, I discovered how her deceased husband’s children cut her out of his will when they first got married, ensuring she didn’t receive a penny of his inheritance.

Now Vivienne is on her very own one-woman warpath against the airline who she claims failed to follow the allergy protocol, and she publicly made a statement informing everyone that as soon as she’s done there, she will be suing her deceased husband’s children to ensure she gets everything that is owed to her.

What does she deserve exactly? He built his empire long before she entered the picture, and she was only married to the eighty-two-year-old for twelve months. At forty-two years his junior, she must have thought she’d won the lotto when she met Henry Cavendish, who she claims “swept her off her feet.”

Whatever. I’ll meet the undeniably beautiful woman who hides her “greed,”Henry’sson’s words, not mine, tomorrow. After all, gold diggers sometimes come wrapped in a pretty package.

I shake off my distaste and paint on a smile, which isn’t hard to do as I really like the new girl. “Hey, Leesa.” I clutch the files to my chest and give our new records assistant, the one who filled the role I was originally hired for, a broad smile.

“Oh, I was just leaving.” Leesa looks around the empty basement, her coat already on.

I wave my hand through the air. “That’s not a problem. You head out, I’ll file these.”

I befriended Leesa the day she started, and I know she trusts me because I’ve done this exact same thing once a week for the last month, pretending to file at the last minute just to test the water.

“Are you sure you don’t mind doing it again?” She tilts her head to the side in question. “It’s just I have to get Talia to dance class tonight by six or you know I would stay.”

I knew that. On Wednesdays we only have one records clerk and Leesa leaves early to take her daughter to lessons. “I promise, no problem, you go.”

She places her hand on her heart. “Thank you.”

Leesa turns around and lays her hand against the security panel to open the gigantic records room behind the secure door. “You know the drill,” she says, jamming the thick metal fire door open for me with a rubber stopper.

“Get in, file, leave, shut the door and double-check the red light on the panel to ensure it’s locked. Got it.” I give her a mock salute, confirming the process.

Leesa checks the time on the wall clock then lifts her purse off her desk. “I gotta go.”

“See you tomorrow.” I wave goodbye.

“Don’t work too late,” she replies cheerily, running to the elevator that will take her up one floor to the main exit.

“I won’t.” I turn on the balls of my feet and enter one of the largest record rooms I’ve ever been in. It has zero windows, and it’s fireproofed within an inch of its life; the Hart family take people’s personal details very seriously.

On a mission and with intention tonight, I stride along the alphabetized aisles, making my way to the one marked T. For Kevin Taylor. The man who killed my parents and my sister.

Being this close to the information I’ve waited to get my hands on since I was a teenager, my heart is racing with anticipation.

My heels ricochet off the concrete flooring, every clatter echoing louder than the next, as if mirroring every beat of my thumping heart.

Clutching the files I brought along, pretending I needed them as an excuse, I tighten my grip and finally approach the aisle I’d been eyeing. Unlike previous weeks, when I could only stand and stare from a distance, tonight I felt brave enough to take the next step and search for what I’ve been seeking.

Inhaling a deep breath, I summon all the courage I can and take my first step into the narrow space that’s lined with hundreds of gray rectangular boxes, each with a white label on the end and black writing outlining each case name, number, and date. Walking slowly, looking left and right, I sound out the letters of the alphabet under my breath as I pass by the archive boxes. “Tab, Tac, Tad, Tae.” I continue past the Tak’s and Tam’s, all the way down, and that’s when I find what I’m looking for: Tay. I take another couple of steps and find a gray box labelled “Kevin Taylor.”

I read the words in front of me, then I reread the label, double-checking it’s the correct file.

Case Name: The State v. Kevin Taylor

Case Number: 10CR07354

Contents: Pleadings, discovery, depositions, correspondence, exhibits

Date Range: June 2010–Feb 2011

File Reference: File #8416 Taylor

Attorney: Daniel Hart

Confidential: Attorney-Client Privileged

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