Suspicion of Innocence Read Online Free Page B

walked across the room. He lifted his black robe off its hanger on the back of the door. "I'm not going to listen to any more of this right now. She knows what records she needs."
    Gail put her file back into her briefcase, giddy with relief. "Shall I draw the order on that?"
     
    Anthony Quintana held the elevator door, his gold bracelet catching the light. He turned to Gail as he pushed the button for the lobby. They were the only occupants. "I'd like to see the order before you send it to be signed."
    "Yes. You probably should." Gail added, "I may have to call you so we can get it straight, just what his order was."
    Quintana smiled, the lines deepening around his mouth. She wished she knew the name of his cologne. She would buy Dave a bottle. "Welcome to the civil division," she said. "Are you going to handle this case for George from here on in?"
    "Why not? I know my way around juries."
    "A jury? On this case?"
    "We did ask for one in our counterclaim."
    "Waive it."
    He shook his head slowly. "And trust my clients' fate to Judge Coakley?"
    "You've got to be kidding. We won't get a jury trial within our lifetimes. You have no intention of going to a jury on this."
    The elevator door opened. "So settle," he said, letting her go out first.
    "It's a matter of principle for the Dardens," Gail said. "They don't want to pay for something they didn't get."
    "Easy to say, when you pay nothing for your principles."
    "What do you mean?"
    "I've met Douglas Hartwell and I know who his daughter is." Quintana looked out onto Flagler Street through the glass doors of the courthouse. "I would venture a guess," he said, "that the resources of Hartwell Black are . . . fully committed."
    "So settle, Mr. Quintana."
    "It isn't that simple."
    She waited, watching him smile.
    "Pedrosa Development is owned by my grandfather, Ernesto Pedrosa. Carlos is my cousin."
    "So that's it. I knew you couldn't be so obsessive for no reason. You're not getting paid either. This is ridiculous, you know."
    "I know." He sighed. "Let me buy you a cup of coffee. We'll see what we can do about it."
    Gail looked at him, trying to figure this out. She doubted he was coming on to her, not that her wedding ring would stop him. Maybe he truly had nothing better to do than spend an hour dawdling over coffee, which she could not for a moment imagine. Or maybe he was sincerely trying to get the case off square one.
    His eyebrows arched. "I must have said something runny."
    "No, not at all," she said. "I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee, but at the moment I have to get back to my office." She allowed herself another smile. "Perhaps next time."
    He nodded, a single inclination of his head. "I look forward to it."
    She watched him go through the revolving door, then trot gracefully down the granite steps, the sun glinting off his sleek brown hair.
    Ah, yes, she mused. The letter P embroidered on his cuff. Pedrosa, if Ernesto Pedrosa were his maternal grandfather. Spanish names were confusing that way. Anthony Luis Quintana Pedrosa. His mother's surname at the end.
    She dropped a quarter into a pay phone by the elevators and dialed.
    "Hartwell Black and Robineau."
    "Hi, Gwen. This is Gail. I'm on my way back. Could you—"
    "Hold on. Miriam wants to talk to you."
    "No, just tell her—" Too late. Annoyed, Gail listened to several bars of canned Mozart.
    A click, then Miriam's voice. "Gail, your mother called a little while ago. She wants you to call her back."
    "Fine, as soon as I get there. Have the three o'clock people shown up?"
    "Not yet. I think you ought to call her. She sounded kind of funny."
    Something in Miriam's voice sent a chill skidding across Gail's shoulders. She hung up and dialed her mother's number.
    The telephone rang six times before someone picked it up. "Hello."
    Gail didn't recognize the woman's voice. "Connor residence?"  
    "Yes."
    "This is Gail Connor. Let me speak to Irene, please."
    There was a hesitation. "Just a moment." The silence thickened, as if