Brad Meltzer - Dead Even

As the door shut, Sara looked over to Conrad. “Please don’t tell me it’s him.”

“It’s not,” Conrad said. “I’ve known that kid since the day he started here. He doesn’t have it in him.”

“I don’t care how long you’ve known him. Nothing else makes sense. He’s the one who brought me to ECAB in the first place. I mean, I wouldn’t have even walked in there if it wasn’t for him.”

“Sara, he was doing you a favor.”

Now she was sweating. “Oh, God – then that means Rafferty knows Jared and I have been talking.”

“Not a chance. No one knows anything.”

“Then how do you explain-”

“I don’t need to explain,” Conrad insisted. “I know Guff. And more important, I trust him. He’d never do that to you.”

“You can trust people all you want,” Sara said. “It still doesn’t mean they’re not going to put a knife in your back.”

Sara didn’t get home until eight-thirty that evening. Heading straight for the bedroom, she could hear the quiet clicking of Jared at the keyboard. He had already typed, “Hi, honey. How was your day?” But when he turned around and saw his wife, he added, “What happened?”

Putting up a finger to signal “Hold on a second,” Sara, in her best annoyed tone, said, “Do you mind hanging out in the living room? I have some work to do in here.”

“Do whatever you want,” Jared shot back. He got up and stormed out of the room. He turned on the TV in the living room and then quietly returned to the bedroom. Over Sara’s shoulder, he read, “I think Guff may be on the other side of this. As far as I can tell, he took me to ECAB that first day for a reason.”

Taking the keyboard, Jared wrote, “That’s not a small accusation, Sara. If I were you, I’d double-check every detail before I wrecked that relationship.”

Realizing her husband was right, Sara wrote, “Do we have a calendar?”

“In my briefcase,” Jared typed. “My organizer.”

Sara opened Jared’s briefcase and found his small electronic organizer. Pushing the button marked “Calendar,” she saw the date as well as Jared’s to-do list appear on the screen: “Call jury expert. Finish direct. Call printer.” Using the “Up” key, she then scrolled back to Monday, September eighth – her first day on the job. But when the day came up on the screen, Sara’s heart sank. There was only one item on Jared’s to-do list for that day: “Call V.S.” Under the initials was a phone number. Sara recognized the number’s 335 prefix – it was a number in the DA’s office. She took another look at the initials. V.S . Victor Stockwell.

Sara glanced up at Jared. Then back at Victor’s number. It couldn’t be.

By the time she turned back to Jared, he was staring at her. He silently mouthed the question “You okay?”

Sara nodded as she closed the organizer. It wasn’t Guff at all. It was Jared. Feeling her legs go numb, she made her way back to the computer.

On the screen, Jared had written the question “ What did Guff do that made you so suspicious?”

Fighting her hands from shaking, Sara typed back, “Nothing. Just a feeling.”

“I TOLD YOU IT WASN’T GUFF,” CONRAD SAID THE FOLLOWING morning. “I said it yesterday. I knew it couldn’t be him.”

“I don’t really care about Guff,” Sara said, her voice completely drained of energy. Her arms were folded on her desk and her head rested on them. She hadn’t looked up since she told Conrad the story. “I need your help with Jared. I mean, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s not him.”

“What’re you talking about? Of course it’s Jared.”

She kept her head on her desk. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Slowly, she felt her stomach start to turn. It wasn’t possible. This couldn’t be happening.

“Sara, are you okay?”

Feeling as if the wind were knocked out of her, she said nothing. This wasn’t some distant friend. Or a new coworker. This was her husband. She was supposed to know everything about him. Everything. That was what she’d told herself last night to coax herself to sleep. And that was how she initially talked herself out of Conrad’s conclusion. But the closer she looked, the more she found details she couldn’t ignore. When he wanted to be, Jared was more manipulative than anyone she knew. In the last month alone, she had seen that firsthand. And the call to Victor – that was the only way Victor could’ve known she was coming. Over and over, Sara ran through the facts, and whether she trusted Jared or not, she knew there wasn’t going to be an easy answer. “How?” she finally asked Conrad. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Sure it does,” Conrad said. “I’ve seen Jared operate. He may act all squeaky clean, but he’s as scheming as the rest of us. That’s why he peeked in your briefcase. From the moment he told you about Rafferty, I said you should watch your back.”

“You only said that because you’re jealous of him.”

Conrad glared at Sara as his voice took on a more serious tone. “I just think there’s something he’s hiding.”

“Why, though? He hates Rafferty.”

“I agree with that. But that doesn’t mean Jared’s not working with Victor. One thing has nothing to do with another.”

Once again, Sara felt her stomach start to turn. “But why would he possibly do that to me?”

“Does he have anything to be embarrassed about in his past? Maybe he and Victor bury cases together – Jared lines up the clients, Victor makes them disappear. Or maybe he’s being blackmailed. Maybe he’s taking revenge for something you did to him. For all we know, he completely set you up in Brooklyn that night.”

“Stop it,” Sara said, raising her voice. “It’s impossible. None of those things are true.”

“Sara, I know this is hard, but you can’t just shut your eyes and hope it all has a happy ending. Take off the blinders and deal with the problem.”

“I am dealing with it.”

“No. You’re not,” Conrad said. “If you were, you would’ve already stepped into his personal space and asked him why he was calling Victor in the first place.”

Sara knew he was right. She should’ve asked as soon as she found the phone number. “It’s not as easy as you think.”

“Just call him. If he says he’s never spoken to Victor, we’ll know he’s lying.”

Sara reached across her desk and picked up the phone. Seven numbers later, she heard Jared’s phone ring. “C’mon, I know you’re there,” she muttered. “Pick up the damn phone.”

“Mr. Lynch’s office,” Kathleen answered.

“Hi, Kathleen. It’s me. Is he in?”

“I’ll check. Hold on a second.”

Unable to stop fidgeting, Sara stood up. But Conrad grabbed her by the shoulders and sat her down again.

After a moment, she heard, “Sara?”

“Do you have a minute?” Sara asked, trying her best to sound calm.

“Of course. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just have a quick question. Do you know a guy named Victor Stockwell?”

“I told you before – only by reputation. Why?”

“Have you ever spoken to him on the phone?”

There was a short pause on the other end. “No. Why?”

Sara looked up at Conrad and shook her head. “Jared, is anyone in your office?”

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just need you to answer this question. Have you ever spoken to Victor?”

Jared didn’t say a word.

“Please, honey, you can tell me,” Sara said.

“I haven’t,” he insisted. “Why do you-”

Before he could finish the question, Sara hung up. She felt a piercing pain in her chest.