Page 98 of The Wrong Side of the Law

Chapter Thirty-One

Gabriel

Emily’s only been gone for a few minutes when there’s a knock at my office door, and then the sound of the door handle turning. I look up from me desk to see an unfamiliar man’s fleshy, stubbly face peeking through the opening.

“Hi there,” he says, in a phlegmy voice.

The face disappears for a moment and I hear loud coughing from the outer office, and then the door opens fully. He’s an oddly disproportionate man: short, but with a body far too skinny for the size of his face, reminding me of nothing so much as a bulldog’s head somehow grafted onto a chihuahua’s body.

“Your receptionist said you weren’t too busy and I could just come on in.”

Suiting action to words, he walks right into my office, closing the door again behind him, and plops down in the visitor chair across the desk from me. As soon as he’s within six feet of me, I feel like I’m suffocating from a heavy stench of old cigarette smoke.

“Why don’t you go ahead and have a seat,” I say with a grand flourish of my hand. Hopefully he doesn’t miss the sarcasm.

“You’re too kind, Gabriel,” he says, his lips set in a thin line. He didn’t miss the sarcasm.

“Yes. I am.” I smile pleasantly, folding my hands on the desk. “And now that we’ve established that, let’s find out whoyouare.”

“Paul Cove,” he answers, pulling out a business card and flipping it to me over the desk. “From the Point Lookout Herald.”

“I see.” I stop and take a deep breath. Damn you, Karin. “Absolutely a pleasure to meet you, but I’m really busy and I can’t imagine there’s anything for us to talk about, so…”

Picking up the pen again, I look back down at the notepad on my desk and start jotting down random things. After the first couple of random words, it somehow turns into a grocery list. I think we used the last of the milk this morning, and we’re out of dishwasher soap, too.

“There’s plenty for us to talk about, Gabriel, and I think you know it, too.”

Sighing, I put the pen down again and rub my temples.

“Whatever it is you want to ask me about, you know that my official answer has to beno comment, right? You can ask me if the sky is blue, and I’m going to sayno comment.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cove answers with a knowing smile. “Whitehall’s orders, right?”

“Well, like I said,no comment.” He’s not wrong, though. The guy might be a prick, and he might smell terrible, but he does take every shot he can at the State Attorney, and we’re expressly forbidden to give himanything. It might come in useful during an election… but for right now? No comment.

Cove just shakes his head sadly and pulls out a small digital recorder. It beeps at the press of a button, and he sets it on the edge of the desk between us.

“Rumor has it, Gabriel, that you’re a man who’s big on the rules,” he says. “I guess that makes sense, though. You’re a prosecutor, after all.”

I meet his gaze silently, forcing my hands to stay on my desk rather than plugging my nose.

“I’ve kept an eye on you over the years, y’know? I’ve tried to find something on you. I mean, I triedhard. And there’s never been even a hint of anything. You go by the book and never deviate. If you were a cowboy in a movie, your hat would be whiter than the Lone Ranger’s.”

This is all very complimentary, and that makes me very suspicious. He’s buttering me up. Is he trying to get my guard down? Why?

“But…” Cove purses his lips and stares at me, trying to take my measure. “I’m starting to think that maybe I was wrong about you.”

The reporter lets the statement hang in the air, tilting his head to the side. He’s practically defying me to contradict him.

“Is there a point here somewhere, Cove?” My voice stays even, my smile polite. “If there is, would you please get to it? I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Yeah,” he says, tilting his head to the other side. “I’ve heard you’re a workaholic, too.”

After one final long stare, he shrugs.

“Alright then. Here’s the deal. One question, maybe some follow-ups.” He pauses for emphasis and leans forward, pushing the recorder a little closer to me. “Is it true that you have hired, and are now working closely—veryclosely—with, the lovely Emily Wilson?”

Ah. So that’s what he’s after. Dangerous ground.

---