Coffee & Crime (24 page)

I slid out of my seat, grabbed a bar towel and wiped off the ketchup bottles that Zelda had refilled. "Lily’s a little weird." I chanced a look at Ted. "Says things that don't make any sense." I shrugged and concentrated on the ketchup bottle. "Grief can make people do weird things."

Ted stared at me until I looked at him. He questioned me with his eyes and I looked away. "Yeah, people do weird things all right." He put a five on the counter and went back to the table for his jacket.

I looked up. "Are you leaving?"

He shrugged into his jacket and zipped it. "Yup."

He didn’t come back to the counter to kiss me good bye. "Call me later?"

He looked at me for a long moment and said, "I've got to go." Then he turned away and walked out the door.

I stared at the door thinking he'd return but he didn't.

"He'll get over it."

I turned to Zelda. "How much do you think he heard?"

Zelda shrugged. "From the look on his face, I'd say all of it." She stared at the door. "He's not stupid, Scotti. He knows you're keeping something from him."

I slumped into a seat at the counter. "No, he's not stupid."

Zelda bopped me on the head with her checkbook. "If you want him to stick around, you better figure out a way to tell him."

I wagged my finger at her. "You're the one who said I shouldn't tell him."

Zelda put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "No, I said we shouldn't ask him to help us. I never told you to lie to him."

I reared back. "I thought you hated him."

Zelda threw up her hands. "So, I'm the reason you're lying to him?"

I shook my fists in the air. "Stop saying I'm lying. I didn't lie to him."

Zelda held up her hands in surrender. "Okay roomie, if you say so." She picked up the bus tray under the counter and started for the kitchen. Then she turned back to me. "Look Scotti, for once you have a guy who seems to care about you. Don't fuck it up."

She went through the kitchen door and left me to think about that. It was good advice, but it came too late
—
because I was pretty sure that I'd already fucked it up.

Among the documents we photographed at George's office was the file of a former employee named Sally Goss. She'd been fired for padding client billings and stealing five company checks. The first-year associate claimed she was set up and fought the accusations. She filed and lost a Labor Board complaint and was denied unemployment. Though a formal complaint to the Bar Association was started, it was never completed.

According to the file, Sally was an ambitious and conniving liar who'd tried to game the system to get ahead in her career. But someone had circled passages and written in question marks next to those passages. Since the file was in George's locked desk drawer, I assumed George had made those notes. It seemed he’d had second thoughts. But there was no indication of what had prompted the second thoughts and we thought Sally Goss might be able to tell us.

Sally lived in a run-down four-plex on Cherimoya in Hollywood. Stunted pepper trees and flagging palms crowded the front of the property and prevented grass from growing. The cracked concrete walkway was flanked by chain link snarled in a jungle of oleander bushes that drooped in the constant rain. The thump of rap music and the smell of greasy food escaped thin walls and cracked windows adding an air of doom and despair to the place.

"Nice place," Zelda muttered as we sloshed to the back unit where Sally lived.

The front door was closed and covered by a sagging screen door that had been mended with duct tape. Before I raised my hand to knock, a young redhead opened the door and peered out at us. Her dirty hair was pulled back in a ponytail but greasy strands had escaped and stuck out around her face. She wore old sweats and smelled of cigarettes. Her eyes were hooded and flinty. "Who're you?"

I put on a smile. "Hi, I'm Scotti and this is Zelda and we were hoping to talk to you for a few minutes about George Manston."

Sally smirked. "Sure, he's a son of a bitch, and I hope his death was slow and painful. Nice talking to you."

Sally started to close the door but I said, "Yeah, you really got a raw deal
—
that's what we want to talk about."

Sally paused
—
suspicious but also curious. "Who are you? Why do care what happened to me?"

"We work for a private detective whose looking into a case of bad employee firings." I took one of the business cards that Eric had made for us on his computer and held it out. "We can't discuss the specifics because of confidentiality issues but we'd appreciate it if you'd give us a few minutes."

Sally smiled and went from a scowling shrew to a pretty girl. "Bitch and moan about George? Yeah I've got time for that." She unlocked the screen door and pushed it open. "Come on in."

The apartment was gloomy and smelled of old carpet and cigarettes. Sally wasn't much of a housekeeper and we sidestepped piles of clothes, pizza boxes and several cats to reach the dining table where she slouched in a straight-backed chair.

On the table was an beat up ThinkPad laptop, an overflowing ashtray and a can of Diet Coke. Sally lit a cigarette and blew smoke out the side of her mouth. "Have a seat."

I regretted wearing my nice pantsuit and made a mental note to put it into the dry cleaning bag when I got home. Even Zelda kept her arms off the table.

Sally leaned back in her chair as though settling in for a good movie. "Okay shoot. What do you want to know?"

I pulled a notepad out of my bag and flipped it open. "You were an associate at Manston & Kannanack? And worked there for two years?"

Sally nodded.

"According to our files you were fired by Mr. Manston for falsifying billing records? Is that right?"

"Yes, that's why I was fired
—
that and alleged theft of company checks."

"But you didn't falsify the records?"

"No ma'am."

"But you lost your Labor Board and unemployment claims. There must’ve been something that made you look guilty."

Sally narrowed her eyes and puffed on her cigarette. "I thought you wanted to hear my side of the story."

I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "I do. I'm only trying to establish the circumstances."

Sally smirked then pulled a heavy drag from her smoke.

I put down my pen and sat back. "Maybe it would be better if you told us what happened?"

"Okay." Sally pulled another heavy drag from her cigarette and released a smoky sigh. "I started working for George right after I passed the Bar. I was going to work for the public defenders office but the summer before I passed the Bar, I'd interned for George. We hit it off and he offered me a job. It was great at first
—
I learned a lot and everything went pretty well. Lots of hours. But you have to expect that when you start out. You have to prove yourself. And I worked my ass off to do so."

"But then things changed?"

Sally nodded and took a hit off the Diet Coke. "The Sweeny case. Maybe you saw it in the papers? It was all over the news."

Zelda nodded. "That toxic waste thing, where all those people got cancer?"

"The very same," Sally smiled proudly. "I was assigned the scut work but unlike most associates I put everything I had into it. And it paid off. I can't tell you the specifics but opposing counsel were anxious to settle as soon as we showed them what we had. Twenty million for the clients, minus costs and our percentage
—
time to pop the champagne. And I'm over the moon because after that, I'm on the fast track to junior partner." She stopped and stared at the table. "Or so I thought."

I shrugged. "What happened?"

Sally kept her eyes down and said, "Suddenly it's discovered that the client trust fund is short $500,000." She smirked and looked up at me. "Everyone is shocked. They went into panic mode and turned the place upside down trying to find out where all that money went. The accountants looked, George looked. Jake, Peggy, me
—
we were all looking for that damned money. Who loses a half a million dollars, right?"

She went quiet for a minute to compose herself. "Then surprise
—
somebody found a stack of billing sheets that supposedly belonged to me. Turns out I double-billed for everything and somehow managed to take the money for myself. Even though they

never found any of it in my bank account, or any account with my name on it. They still believed I was a thief and a liar. And in case there was any doubt of my being a criminal, five blank company checks magically appeared in my desk drawer."

Zelda hunched forward. "You were set up? Is that what you think happened?"

Sally's amber eyes flashed. "Jake Kannanack is what happened." She waved her cigarette at me. "I tried to tell George
—
but who's he going to believe, me or his partner?" She put out her cigarette and lit another. "Which of us do you suppose had access to those accounts? Me or Jake?" She crushed out her cigarette and pushed the ashtray away. "Naturally George saved his partner's ass and made me the scapegoat. I was easy bait. Going after Jake was something else entirely. If he'd confronted Jake the whole practice would've blown up. George couldn't deal with the ugly stuff. He needed order and predictability."

"If there wasn't any proof and they never found the money, how could he fire you?"

"Technically, you can fire anybody any time for any reason or no reason in the state of California
—
so he didn't have to justify it. And the situation was serious enough, even without proof that the Labor Board and the EDD sided with them." She threw up her hands. "It's one of those situations where you have to prove you didn't do something that everybody already believes you did. No presumption of innocence in that place." She smirked. "How's that for irony?"

Sally was convincing, but George victimizing an innocent woman was a hard fact to swallow. "Still, if George knew it wasn't you..."

Sally lit another cigarette and sulked. "What do you think would’ve happened if it came out that Jake had robbed the client trust fund? It would've been all over the news and ruined the firm. They'd both be ruined. So it made more sense to ruin me, you see?"

I nodded because I did see. Jake was more than a lecherous creep — he was a criminal. As George's partner Jake would’ve had access to the firm's accounts. The idea that Sally could’ve gotten anywhere near the firm's accounts was crazy. No logical person would believe that. I looked around the depressing room. "What are you doing now?"

Sally nodded at the old laptop. "After I ran through my savings, I started writing web content for lawyers."

"Web content?" Zelda asked.

"Yeah for lawyer's websites? It pays all right. At least I can feed myself and make my student loan payments. Around exam time, I get a little work writing papers for law students."

"You didn't try to get a job at another law firm?" I asked.

She snorted. "Try convincing another firm to hire you when your previous firm dismissed you for embezzlement and falsifying records." She coughed and lit another cigarette. "Fat chance."

I thought of Peggy, also fired unfairly and afraid her career was over. How many others had been screwed over by George's firm? "After you were fired, did you ever go back to the office?"

Sally smirked. "Are you kidding? They changed the locks the next day. Even if I wanted to get back in there, which I didn’t, it was impossible."

Zelda and I exchanged a look
—
the same thing they did to Peggy.

Sally went for another Diet Coke from the fridge then came back to the table. "Although, now that George is dead, I might have chance." She looked at me hopefully. "I don't suppose your boss has unearthed a huge scandal having do with George, has he?"

I shook my head. "Sorry."

Sally studied us. "What about this case you're working on? Could it exonerate me? Is it possible the truth will come out and I'd be un-ruined?"

I felt a stab of guilt at letting Sally believe in my cover story. "I don't know Sally. But I can tell you, our goal is to get to the truth. And we're going to do everything in our power

to find it."

We offered to buy her lunch but Sally said she had work to do and asked me to let her know how the case turned out. Then we left her at her dining table, pounding on the laptop and chain smoking.

Jake smiled but was clearly surprised when he found us waiting at his BMW in the courthouse parking lot. He held out his hand to me and turned on the charm. "Ladies, how nice to see you again."

"I'm glad you remember us. I wasn't sure you would." I said.

Jake popped the trunk and stowed his briefcase inside. He leered at me. "I never forget a beautiful woman."

He closed the trunk and unlocked the car with his security fob, but Zelda blocked the driver's door. "In a hurry?"

Jake glanced at the rain clouds gathering above. "A storm is brewing." He flashed his expensive smile. "And it has been a long hard day in court."

I hooked my arm through Jake's and said, "Well then, let us buy you a cup of coffee so you can catch your breath."