Harlan Coben - The Final Detail

“Probably.”

“Damn.” She thought about this a moment.

Win moved into a corner. He took out his cell phone, dialed, started talking.

Myron said, “Make me co-counsel.”

Crimstein looked up. “Excuse me?”

“As you pointed out last night, I'm a bar-appointed attorney. Make me her attorney, and anything she tells me falls under attorney-client.”

She shook her head. “One, that'll never fly. The judge will see it for what it is, a loophole to make sure you can't testify. Two, it's moronic. Not only will it reek of a desperate defensive move, but it'll look like we're shutting you up because we have something to hide. Three, you may still be charged in all this.”

“How? I already told you. I was in the Caribbean.”

“Right. Where nobody but Preppy Boy could find you. How convenient.”

“You think-”

“I don't think anything, Myron. I'm telling you what the DA might be thinking. For now we're just guessing. Go back to your office. Call your accountant. Make sure your books are in order.”

“They're in order,” Myron said. “I've never stolen a dime.”

She turned to Win. “How about you?”

Win hung up the phone. “What about me?”

“They'll subpoena your books too.”

Win arched the eyebrow. “They'll try.”

“Are they clean?”

“You could eat off them,” Win said.

“Fine, whatever. I'll let your lawyers handle it. I got enough to worry about.”

Silence.

“So how do we get her out?” Myron asked.

“We don't get her out. I get her out. You stay away.”

“I don't take orders from you,”

“No? How about from Esperanza?”

“What about Esperanza?”

“This is her request as well as mine. Stay away from her.”

“I don't believe she'd say that.”

“Believe it.”

“If she wants me out,” Myron said, “she'll have to tell me to my face.”

“Fine,” Crimstein said with a heavy sigh. “Let's go take care of that now.”

“What?”

“You want her to tell you herself? Give me five minutes.”

Win said, “I have to get back to the office.”

Myron was surprised. “You don't want to hear what Esperanza has to say?”

“No time.”

His tone slammed the door on further discussion. Win reached for the knob.

“If you need my special talents,” he said, “I'll have the cellular.”

He hurried out as Hester Crimstein entered. She watched him disappear down the corridor. “Where's he going?”

“His office.”

“Why's he in such a rush all of a sudden?”

“I didn't ask.”

Hester Crimstein raised an eyebrow. “Hmm.”

“Hmm what?”

“Win was the one in charge of the account with the missing money.”

“So?”

“So maybe he had a reason to silence Clu Haid.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“Are you saying he's incapable of murder?”

Myron did not reply.

“If even half the stories I've heard about Windsor Lockwood are true-”

“You know better than to listen to rumors.”

She looked at him. “So if I subpoena you to testify and if I ask if you've ever witnessed Windsor Home Lock-wood the Third kill someone, what would you say?”

“No.”

“Uh-huh. Guess you also missed the class on perjury.”

Myron did not bother with a comeback. “When can I see Esperanza?”

“Come on. She's waiting for you.”

Esperanza sat at a long table. She still wore the orange prison suit, her now-uncuffed hands folded in front of her, her expression serene as a church statue's. Hester signaled to the trooper, and they both left the room.

When the door closed, Esperanza smiled at him. “Welcome back,” she said.

“Thanks,” Myron replied.

Her eyes took him in. “If your tan was any darker, you could pass for my brother.”

“Thanks.”

“Still got the smooth tongue with the ladies, eh?”

“Thanks.”

She almost smiled. Even under these conditions, Esperanza still looked radiant. Her supple skin and ink black hair shimmered against the fluorescent orange backdrop. Her eyes still brought forth thoughts of Mediterranean moons and white peasant blouses.

“Are you feeling better now?” she asked him.

“Yes.”

“Where were you anyway?”

“A private island in the Caribbean.”

“Tor three weeks?”

“Yes.”

“By yourself?”

“No.”

When he didn't elaborate, Esperanza simply said, “Details.”

“I ran off with a beautiful anchorwoman I barely knew.”

Esperanza smiled. “Did she-how to put this delicately?-did she boff your brains out?”

“As it were.”

“Glad to hear it. If any guy needed to have his brain boffed out-”

“Right, I'm the guy. Voted Most Boff Needy by the senior class.”

She liked that one. She leaned back and crossed her legs cocktail-lounge casual. Odd in these surroundings, to put it mildly. “You didn't tell anybody where you were?”

“That's right.”

“Yet Win still found you in a matter of hours,” she said.

It surprised neither of them. They sat in silence for a moment or two. Then Myron asked, “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

Myron was not sure how to continue, what subject to broach or how to broach it. Once again Esperanza took the ball and started dribbling.

“So are you and Jessica through?” she asked.

“Yes.” It was the first time he had said it out loud. It felt weird.

That made her smile, big time. “Ah, the silver lining,” she said triumphantly. “So it's really over? Queen Bitch is gone for good?”

“Don't call her that.”

“Is she gone for good?”

“I think so.”

“Say yes, Myron. It'll make you feel better.”

But he couldn't. “I'm not here to talk about me.”

Esperanza crossed, her arms, said nothing.

“We'll get you out of this,” he said. “I promise.”

She nodded, still playing casual; if she were a smoker, she'd be blowing rings. “You better get back to the office. We've already lost too many clients.”

“I don't care about that.”

“I do.” Her voice had an edge now. “I'm a partner now.”

“I know that.”

“So I own part of MB SportsReps. If you want to self-destruct, fine. But don't drag my lusted-after ass down with you, okay?”

“I didn't mean it like that. I just meant we've got bigger worries right now.”

“No.”

“What?”

“We don't have bigger worries. I want you to stay out of this.”

“I don't understand.”

“I have one of the top criminal defense attorneys in the country working on my case. Let her handle it.”

Myron tried to let her words settle in, but they were like unruly children after a sugar fix. He leaned forward a bit. “What's going on here?”

“I can't talk about it.”

“What?”

“Hester told me I shouldn't talk about the case with anyone, even you. Our conversations are not protected.”

“You think I'd tell?”

“You can be forced to testify.”

“So I'd he.”

“You won't have to.”

Myron opened his mouth, closed it, tried again. “Win and I can help here. We're good at this.”

“No offense, Myron, but Win is psycho. I love him, but his kind of help I don't need. And you”-Esperanza stopped, looked up, unfolded her arms, lowered her gaze back to his-“you're damaged goods. I don't blame you for running away. It was probably the right thing to do. But let's not pretend you're back to normal.”

“Not normal,” he agreed. “But I'm ready for this.”

She shook her head. “Concentrate on MB. It's going to take all your efforts to keep her afloat.”