Lawyer Trap

She must have pressed a remote control, because the large box at the end of the bed hummed and a screen rose up. She hopped onto the mattress next to him and propped her head and shoulders up on a pillow.

Teffinger did the same.

Then the screen lit up-a large flat-panel unit with exceptional clarity. On that screen, two women kissed with open mouths, deep and long, with lots of tongue. It took Teffinger a moment to realize that one of the women was Davica.

“That’s me and Angela,” Davica said.

Teffinger swallowed.

“Oh.”

He watched. Slowly, the women undressed each other and then licked each other’s nipples. Teffinger knew he should look away but couldn’t. Instead he wondered just how far things would go. It didn’t take long to find out. Angela was on her back now, with her legs spread wide, as Davica worked her over with her tongue. After what seemed like a long time, they switched positions.

He lay there, next to Davica, as she withered in orgasm on the screen.

There was more than just sex between the two women.

There was passion.

When it was over, a half hour or more later, she said, “You see how much I loved her? Well, that’s the same amount I hated her, at the end. So if you’re looking for motive, congratulations. You just found it in spades.”

She removed the DVD and set it on top of the player.

“I’ll leave this here, so you’ll be able to find it if you ever feel the need to get a search warrant and take it,” she said. “People’s Exhibit A.”

Back in the kitchen, they drank more coffee and talked, but not about the case. Then she showed him around the grounds.

As far as he could tell, Davica hadn’t yet replaced Angela with anyone else in her life, female or male.

He looked at his watch and was shocked to see it was almost noon. Shit, time to go. She walked him out to the Tundra and, just as he was about to pull away, she tapped on the window.

He powered it down.

She leaned in.

“I threatened to kill her. Did I mention that?”

“No, you must have forgot.”

“Talk to Natalie, down at Femme, in Glendale,” she said. “She’ll tell you all about it. It’s always exciting, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“The first time you meet the next person you’re going to sleep with.”

2

DAY ONE-SEPTEMBER 5

MONDAY MORNING

Carrying a leather briefcase without a single thing inside except a ballpoint pen and a freshly sharpened No. 2 pencil, Aspen Wilde squeezed her 25-year-old body into the elevator, saw that the button for Floor 45 was already lit, and took a deep breath as she ascended to the lofty offices of her new employer-Hogan, Slate amp; Dover, LLC.

She didn’t feel like a lawyer.

Even though, technically, she had been one since 2:00 P.M. on Friday when she got sworn in.

She wore a gray pinstriped skirt, a matching jacket, a crisp white blouse, and black leather shoes with a one-inch heel, all purchased with plastic on Saturday. She had minimal makeup and styled her shoulder-length brown hair close to her head, to give it a trim professional look, even though she didn’t particularly like it that way.

The clothes felt foreign, as if they belonged to someone else.

They were a far cry from the usual jeans and T.

She pushed through the glass doors into the reception area, got informed by a way-too-cute receptionist that the office manager hadn’t arrived yet, and was invited to wait in the lobby.

Instead, she walked down to the 44th Floor to see if Rachel Ringer was in.

Having served as a summer law clerk for the firm a year ago, between her second and third years of law school, she wasn’t exactly a stranger to the office-although, she had to admit, most of that two-month tenure had been spent stuffed inside a windowless cubicle surfing Westlaw and cranking out memos.

Summer law clerks came and went.

Most of the firm’s attorneys didn’t have the time or inclination to find out much about them, other than whether they could do the work and do it quickly.

Rachel had been different.

She’d taken an actual interest in Aspen.

Aspen stopped in the kitchen to get coffee, hoping to see someone she knew, but found no one. She filled the a cup, took a sip, found it to her liking, and then trekked down the hall to Rachel’s office. As she got closer, she saw that the light was on.

Excellent.

She walked in, beaming, anxious to see the look on her face. Except it wasn’t Rachel sitting behind the desk. Instead, it was someone else, a young Asian woman with captivating almond eyes and shiny black hair, dressed to impress. She appeared to be more curious than startled when Aspen walked in.

“Oops,” Aspen said. “Wrong office, sorry.”

Embarrassed, she ducked out before the woman could say anything, then got her bearings and realized it wasn’t the wrong office after all.

She edged back over to the door and stuck her head in.

“Sorry to bother you,” she said. “I’m looking for Rachel Ringer.”

“Rachel Ringer?”

“Yes.”

“She hasn’t been here for months,” the woman said. Aspen must have had a puzzled look on her face, because the woman added, “Haven’t you heard?”

No, she hadn’t.

Heard what?