It was then I realized how DiSalvo had caught her in his trap. He’d no doubt seen what she could do in Sherman’s trial, how she was a diamond in the rough. If it came through easily on the black-and-white transcript, it had to have been stunning to watch her work in person. With her particular skill set, she was a major asset.
I could see in my mind how it all must have played out. A wealthy benefactor offering to put Evan back on her feet after she’d gone through hell? Of course she’d agreed to it; she would have been a fool not to. And from the looks of her in the photograph, she was not in the right headspace to make such a momentous decision. I’d been there. I knew what could happen when a person ran on pure emotion and little else.
Jonesy had done me a solid that day, made everything clear. No wonder she’d chosen the nuclear option. She had nowhere else to turn.
That day I refocused my energy, no longer directing my rage toward Evan. I knew it had been DiSalvo all along, crushing Evan into a corner, giving her no chance of escape. I wanted my hands around DiSalvo’s throat. Choking the life out of that piece of shit would be a public service.
Wood’s door opened, bringing me back to the present as a deep burst of several voices rising in laughter echoed out into the waiting room. In its wake came Wood, shaking hands with each of the black-suited brass from D.C. in turn. “I’ll meet you for lunch at one, let’s say?” he asked.
The three from the attorney general’s office agreed and left. I gave them a curt nod as they passed.
“I need to speak with you. Now.” I tried to keep my voice even.
Wood lifted his gray eyebrows. “Well, I need to take a piss, so walk with me.”
I fell into step behind him, following him down the long hall toward the restrooms.
“For someone who needs to talk, you sure are silent.”
“This needs to be for your ears only.”
“Step into my office,” Wood said and swung open the door to the men’s room.
I followed and did a quick sweep of the stalls to make sure we were alone. He took position at the urinal and gave an immediate meaning to the term “pissing and moaning.”
“I thought they would never leave. Jesus. People from D.C. talk just to hear themselves. Pompous assholes.”
“Wood, Evan’s in trouble.” My voice bounced off the white tiles.
“You two talking again? After what she pulled with your brother?”
“That’s not important.”
“How is her betraying you by using your own brother against you not important all of a sudden?”
Wood was right. It had been important to me. I’d lost a lot of sleep thinking about Evan, about how I thought she’d played me all along. But now I knew better. She was caught in a trap. Was it of her own making? Yes. Did I give a shit? No. My mistakes were no worse than hers. Problem was, hers led to a rendezvous with the end of a gun barrel.
“Because I love her.”
Wood shook his head as his stream died. “You love the bad bitch?”
“Yes. Without a doubt.”
“Shit, Lincoln. A woman like that? I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I do. But like I said, there’s trouble.”
“What’d she do? Are you talking about how she blew off Judge Crane yesterday? She’s going to have to save her own ass on that one. Matilda is going to make her grovel.”
“No, DiSalvo put a hit out on her.”
“The hell you say?” He zipped up and turned toward me.
“My investigation has stirred up DiSalvo and maybe more of her clients. DiSalvo for certain. He sent four men to kill her last night.”
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain car accident on Long Island last night, would it? Word is that four of DiSalvo’s men were killed, some by the wreck and ensuing fire, and some by lead poisoning.”
I remembered the flash of the muzzle in the dark. Lead poisoning was right, and too fucking good for those pieces of shit. I didn’t give any sign, but my silence was enough.
“Fuck, Lincoln.” Wood washed his hands, and we returned to his office in silence.
“Rita, hold my calls.”
“Yes, sir.”
Wood closed his office door with a thud. I took a seat on his leather sofa as he sank down into his desk chair. He pulled open one of his drawers and lifted out a bottle and two glasses.
“Too early for you?” he asked.
“No, sir.” I watched him pour and retrieved my glass before settling back down. I needed a drink. Maybe it would even me out, allow me to see the best way through, the best way to keep Evan safe.
“Shit, DiSalvo. I thought I was done with that prick. He moved to Cuba a few years back. Evan got him out of some serious charges and then set him loose on our neighbors to the south. I was glad to be rid of him, honestly. But now this?” He took a swig from his glass. “What did you do to get him so riled up?”