Lisa Scottoline - Daddy's Girl

Nat flipped to the back of the pages, where photocopies of visitor logs had been stapled. There were three separate dates. She ran a finger along the signatures. Sure enough, it was Angus's signature. She knew his handwriting from cards and love notes he'd stuck in her briefcase. From shopping lists, even. They were practically living together. He had his own key. He'd be home later, to spend the night after she got back from her dinner with Barb Saunders.

She set the papers down on the passenger seat and watched old leaves blow across the road, so dry they'd disintegrated into dirty brown fragments. Or it could have been her state of mind. There was no proof that Angus had stayed involved in the conspiracy. What if he had originally agreed to it, then changed his mind? Maybe he had simply pulled out in the end. Of course he wouldn't admit to ever having been involved in the first place, because he'd be too embarrassed and ashamed.

She considered the crossroads. She could go to the left, meet Angus at home, and ask him about the pages. Give the man she loved the benefit of the doubt. She trusted him, and he'd give her the same consideration.

Or she could go to the right, drive to the cops, and turn him in. Show them the pages. They would call him in for questioning. There would be handcuffs. The interrogation room. The media. The electronic flashes. She knew what it would do to him, and to his reputation. She had been there. The accusation equaled the conviction, especially at a law school. He still didn't have all his outreach programs reinstated. It was driving him crazy. And a betrayal like this, from her? It would break him. And break them up.

Nat looked at the crossroads and considered her choices. Left or right? Right or left?

She twisted the key in the ignition and hit the gas.

“Honey, I'm home!" Nat called from the doorway. It was their standard greeting, and she was trying to keep things as normal as she could before springing the pages on him. But in the next second, she heard the unmistakably festive pop of a champagne cork.

"Hey, girl!" Angus came out of the kitchen beaming and holding a bottle of champagne in one hand and two crystal flutes in the other. He was wearing a workshirt she loved with jeans, and he looked so at home in her apartment, with the lighting soft and the books surrounding them both, a perfect backdrop for two law professors. The sight made her heart ache, and she prayed he had a good explanation, one that would make it all go away.

"Champagne?" she said.

"We're celebrating. I settled that case with the city today." Angus gave her an exuberant hug and a warm kiss, but Nat made herself stay on task.

"You did? That's great!" She managed a smile, slid out of her coat, and put it and her purse on the chair.

"The city solicitor gave up the ghost. We proved that the poorer sections of the city don't get waterlines repaired as quickly as the middle-class sections."

Nat remembered the details. He cared so much about that case. It had kept him up for nights on end.

"We had two great experts submit reports and they compared response times to water main breakages in Philly with those in other major cities. When we flunked, the city guy caved in." Angus set the two glasses on the coffee table and poured champagne into one. "We got a very nice settlement and a consent decree, so we can nail their asses for the next five years if they step out of line." He handed Nat the full glass, then poured himself one. He looked at her with a slight frown. "You look a little down. Was it tough, seeing Barb?"

"Well, yes. Kind of."

"First, a toast." Angus raised his glass, his smile so kind and his eyes the softest blue, focused, as usual, on her. "To you, who inspire me to great things."

"To you, too," Nat said quickly, then sipped the champagne, because it would be easier to swallow than the lump in her throat.

"So tell me." Angus sat down and rested the glass on his thigh. "Come sit next to me and tell me how it went."

"Uh, not yet." Nat remained standing, gathering her nerve. "I have a strange question."

"Sure. But no sitting?" Angus patted the couch.

"Not yet."

"Okay."

"Did you ever meet Williams? I mean, before?"

"What do you mean?" Angus frowned. Not deeply, just simply. Puzzled.

"I mean, did you ever meet Richard Williams at the prison?"

"Let me think." Angus cocked his head. "No, not that I remember. Why? Did Barb say I had? How would she know?"

Oh, no. "Well, she wasn't sure. She just said she thought so." Nat hadn't thought he'd deny it, so she had nowhere to go right away. "She said she heard that you were going to be his lawyer at some point.

"Me?" Angus chuckled. "Me, represent a gangbanger like that? I don't think so."

Nat felt her face grow hot. "But you represent other inmates. You do criminal work."

"Not guys like Williams. They're a specialty. I'm not in the pinky-ring set."

Nat didn't get it. He was denying it. Why would he deny it? She sank into the chair opposite him.

"What?" Argus blinked. "Is something the matter? Are you sick?"

Heartsick.

"What's the matter, sweetie?"

"I don't understand." Nat set down the glass, went to her purse, and got the papers. "I have to ask you some questions, and I need you to tell me the truth. Because I love you, and I trust you."

"Okay," Angus said quietly. "Is this a game?"

"No." Nat kept the papers on her lap. "I found these papers at Barb's house. Her husband wrote them. Ron. He says that you met with Williams three times. He made copies of the sign-out logs to prove it."

Angus remained still. His expression didn't change.

"Now do you remember seeing Williams about being his lawyer?"

"No, honestly I don't." Angus held out his hand. "Can I see the papers? There must be a mistake."

"Wait a minute." Nat kept the papers on her lap. "He said that he overheard you and Williams make a deal to get him out for three million dollars. He thinks that you were in the conspiracy with Graf and Machik and Parrat."

Angus's eyes flared an outraged blue. "That's absurd!'

"I know it is, which is why I didn't go to the police. I love you, and I know it's absurd, and I wanted to give you a chance to explain. Because I know you would never do anything like that."

"I didn't. I would never! I can't believe you're accusing me of this."

Me, neither. "I know. I feel terrible, but then why did you meet with Williams? Your signature is in the logs. I have the photocopies right here." Nat heard the desperation in her own tone. Angus's mouth pursed, buried in his dark blond beard.

"Let me see the logs. There must be some mistake."

"Okay." Nat opened the papers and gave him the photocopies of the logs. He rose to take them, reading them over the coffee table. After a minute, he sat back down.

"What are the other papers?" Angus gestured. "In your hand."

No.

"Natalie?"

"Just answer the question. I'm giving you a chance. I love you."

Angus looked down the logs, then looked up again, his features suddenly drawn. His smile had gone. His eyebrows sloped down.

"Tell me. I came to you. I want to know."

Angus took a gulp of champagne, then set the glass down.

Nat waited, breathless. Please have a good explanation.

"Okay, Williams asked me to get him out. I thought about it, but I said no. I would never have done it, you know that."

Nat felt her throat catch. "You met with him three times."

"I guess I did."

"Why did you lie about it, just now?"

"I was embarrassed."

Nat felt a twinge. "So, why did it take you three times to tell Williams you didn't want to represent him?"

Angus's eyes flashed. "You're accusing me. You really are."