Phillip Margolin - Supreme Justice

“Secrets powerful enough to force the president to nominate Audrey Stewart to the Supreme Court?” Jake asked.

Dana cast her lover a look of pure scorn. “Grow up, Mr. Teeny. The guy was the head of the CIA. He probably knew what kind of underwear you buy.”

“Mine are pretty dull, but yours…”

Dana slapped Jake playfully, and everyone laughed just as the waiter arrived with the wine Dana had ordered. Dana didn’t know that much about wine. She’d just ordered the most expensive bottle on the wine list because her friends deserved it and Patrick Gorman could afford it.

Dana raised her glass. “To Sarah Woodruff,” she said when everyone’s glass was full.

“And Felicia Moss,” Brad added.

“Amen,” everyone said.

A month and a half after the shootout at the Court, the China Sea was off the front page and Dana Cutler’s life was back to normal. One of the jobs that Dana’s work on the Woodruff investigation had disrupted involved the defense of an investment banker who had been indicted in a white-collar fraud case. Dana had spent the day in the defense attorney’s office briefing him on her investigation and advising him on the witnesses and documents that had to be subpoenaed for trial. The meeting had broken up late, and Dana was so tired that she’d worried about having an accident driving home. A sound bite on the news about the hunt for Thomas Bergstrom woke her up.

An hour after Dana had given Keith Evans the video of Bergstrom murdering Dennis Masterson and his driver, the FBI had raided Bergstrom’s house. They were too late. Bergstrom’s wife and children were there, but Bergstrom had disappeared into the ether. So far, the radio announcer said, the international manhunt had not turned up a single clue to The Swede’s whereabouts.

Bergstrom’s disappearance was one of the few setbacks in the investigation into the violence at the Supreme Court and the mystery surrounding the China Sea. Cheryl Fortier-the woman who had impersonated Harriet Lezak-was talking as fast as she could in hopes of staying off death row. In addition to clearing up the roles of Millard Price and Dennis Masterson in the sordid affair, Fortier had told the FBI that Dave Fletcher, the night watchman, had been killed soon after Oswald and Swanson left the dock, and his body had been dumped at sea.

Jake was sound asleep when Dana tiptoed into their bedroom. She dropped her clothes where she took them off and went into the bathroom to wash up. Dana had stopped thinking about Bergstrom and the China Sea by the time she arrived home. While she flossed, her thoughts turned to her boring day and the stacks of subpoenas with numbers and names and addresses she had helped write. Suddenly mental tumblers clicked into place in the recesses of her brain, and she grew cold.

As soon as she finished in the bathroom, Dana fixed herself a cup of strong coffee. Then she went to her home office and worked out the logical inferences of her brainstorm. Dana booted up her computer and checked her notes from her visit to Portland. The name she wanted was buried in them. Dana checked the time. Washington, D.C., was three hours ahead of Oregon, so there was a chance she could catch the person she needed to talk to before she went to sleep. Dana dialed information and breathed a sigh of relief when the operator told her that LuAnn Cody’s number was listed.

“Ms. Cody, my name is Dana Cutler, and I’m calling from Washington, D.C.,” Dana said as soon as they were connected.

“D.C.?”

Dana could hear the confusion in her voice.

“I’m a reporter, and my editor wanted me to fact-check a story we’re going to run in the paper that involves the Multnomah County District Attorney’s office.”

“I don’t understand. What kind of story? I’m a secretary. Shouldn’t you be talking to one of the attorneys?”

“No. I had a very nice meeting with Monte Pike when I was in Portland a while back. Your name was mentioned, and I wrote it in my notes, but I’ve misplaced them. So I wrote the paragraph from memory, and then I wasn’t certain I got it right. That’s why I’m calling, to make certain that we print what really happened.”

“I still don’t know why you need to talk to me.”

“Right, I’m sorry. I should have explained. Mr. Pike mentioned that you were Max Dietz’s secretary. This detail has to do with the day he disappeared. We want to be accurate when we print something. Like your name. I have it down as L-U-capital A-N-N, no space. Is that right?”

“Yes. But what did you want to know about Mr. Dietz? I mean, I’m not sure I should be discussing him with a reporter without asking one of the attorneys.”

“Well, I’ll ask you the question. If you don’t feel comfortable, I can give you my number, and you can call back after you talk to someone. Is that fair?”

“I guess. What do you want to know?”

“OK, I wrote that the last time anyone saw Mr. Dietz, he asked for some subpoenas, you typed them for him, he took them and left the office, and he wasn’t seen again.”

“No, that’s not what happened,” Cody said. “I didn’t type them. Mr. Dietz just asked me for several subpoenas, and I gave him blanks, and he took them into his office.”

“Wouldn’t you have typed them normally?”

“Yes, but he didn’t ask me to that time.”

“Thanks. I’ll change that.” Dana paused as if she were making a note. “You don’t happen to know why he wanted the subpoenas, do you?”

“No, he never said.”

“Well, thanks a lot. Sorry to take up your time, but I wanted the story to be accurate.”

“Has anybody figured that out, what happened to Mr. Dietz?” Cody asked.

“Not that I know. But I’ll let you know if I learn the truth about his disappearance.”

Dana hung up and stared into space. She worked everything through twice more to make certain she wasn’t fooling herself. Of course, she could be wrong, and her flight to Oregon could be a waste of time. Even if she was right, it was highly unlikely that she would be able to find the proof she needed. But she had to try, so she called the airlines and bought a round-trip ticket to Portland.

It was raining in Portland when Dana’s plane touched down, but it always rained in Portland, so she didn’t read the foul weather as an omen. Dana drove her rental car to the hotel where she’d stayed on her last visit to the City of Roses. After she checked in, she headed for Mary Garrett’s office. While she walked, she debated the morality of what she was about to do, a debate that had begun to rage as soon as she’d hung up the phone after speaking with LuAnn Cody. If she went through with her plan, she might learn the truth, but a murderer might go free. If she used deceit to get what she wanted, justice might be served, but she would have to betray a trust.

Mary Garrett rarely greeted visitors at the door to her office because their height disparity became apparent as soon as they met, but she made an exception for Dana Cutler.

“Come on in,” Garrett said when her secretary showed Dana in. “I can’t thank you enough for the work you did for Sarah.”

Dana’s features didn’t betray the guilt she felt. “I just wrote the stories. You wrote the petition for cert.”

“I have no doubt that your exposé had a lot to do with cert being granted.”

“Since the justices never reveal their reasons for granting cert, we’ll never know how much influence Exposed had on their decision. What matters is that there is a good chance you’ll get Woodruff’s case reversed.”

Garrett motioned Dana into a client chair and took one next to her.