right. Conley was that person.
Because she saw everything as Conley did. Not just the view, either. His business, his way of life, even what he ate. Everything about them was the same, even their hard childhoods. They were two halves of one whole, and someday soon he’d realize that.
Lara would, too.
“WE NEED TO make sure we’re clear on this.” Tapping the file on his desk with one burly finger, Ed looked past Lara to where her stepbrother sat. Larry Journay—Ed’s son by wife number three—nodded in agreement, which was exactly what he always did and what Ed expected him to do. The new client Ed was referring to, an accountant who thought his business partner was cheating him, was someone Larry would handle. “I don’t want this guy going nuts if we find out the truth. Call the Denver police and make sure he doesn’t have any priors. I’m not sure I trust what he’s telling us so far.”
Ed turned to Lara. Beneath a pair of beer-colored eyebrows, his green eyes burned with their usual intensity. “Has he sent in the retainer yet? If he hasn’t, we might want to wait….”
Lara blinked and tried to focus. She’d been listening, but most of her attention was back at the house, not on Ed’s latest potential catastrophe. The day after Conley’s accident, work had intruded before he’d even dressed, Theresa visiting him with some papers needing his signature. Lara had wanted to talk to him about the divorce, to pin him down if she could, but he’d left in a hurry. He’d phoned later from the office and told her he was going to have to take a call in the middle of the night from Baku so he was just going to sleep there, on his couch. Then he’d flown to Houston for the weekend. A meeting, he’d said.
Right.
A week had passed since the accident, but she still hadn’t been able to corner him long enough to talk about the problem. All she’d done was worry over the point Sandy had made. What would Lara do if Conley refused to give her a divorce?
“Lara?” Ed’s voice boomed with impatience. “Have we gotten this guy’s money or what?”
She answered automatically. “No. He said he was sending a check, but nothing’s come in yet.”
Ed made a sound of impatience, then continued his instructions until Stephanie, Larry’s wife, came into the office and interrupted them. Her eyes fell on Lara, her voice subdued.
“Con’s on line one. Shall I put him through to your office?” Normally bouncy and cheerful, Stephanie didn’t wait for Lara’s answer. “I can put him off,” she offered. “If you don’t want to talk to him….”
Ed had told everyone at their office Lara and Conley were divorcing, and they’d all been treating her as if someone had died.
Lara stood up. “I’ll take it in there, Steph. Put him through.”
Back at her desk, Lara took a deep breath, then picked up the phone. Conley’s tense voice answered her own edgy hello.
“I need to see you,” he said without preamble. “Do you have some time available this afternoon?”
Lara stiffened, Sandy’s warning flashing through her mind like an out of control strobe light.
“I might,” she hedged. “Is there something important we need to talk about?”
“It’s not an issue to discuss over the phone.”
“If this is about the divorce—”
“It isn’t about the divorce, Lara.” He spoke as quietly as ever, but behind the words, Lara detected something she’d never heard in Conley’s voice. Ever. She told herself she was imagining things, then he spoke again and she was sure she was right. What she heard was fear.
Before she could question him, he said, “It’s something else, a problem. I want you to bring Ed, as well. Come at three. I’ll be free by then.”
She said all right, but he’d already hung up, so she did the same, staring at the phone as if it could answer all her questions. She must have been mistaken. Conley afraid? It made no sense, none whatsoever. Whatever his faults might be, he was the toughest man she’d ever known. He’d left home at sixteen and joined the military as soon as he could. Afterward, holding down three jobs, he’d made his way through college and had still sent money home. He’d been on his own forever. Nothing could scare Conley Harrison.
But he’d definitely sounded frightened.
She wanted to give the idea more thought but she pulled herself together and went back to Ed’s office. It wasn’t worth facing his ire if she missed the rest of the meeting. She slipped inside and took her seat, and for the next hour they continued to discuss their current clients. The firm was respected in circles that counted. In fact, they had a waiting list because Ed kept the number of cases very limited. They only had three at the moment: a senator’s wife who was scared of her about-to-be-divorced husband, the eleven-year-old daughter of a corporate raider who was under a kidnapping threat, and a Wall Street firm that thought someone was about to blackmail their CEO. If Mesa took the accountant, he’d be number four and that would be it. They never handled more than four cases at a time.
At long last, Ed finished up. Larry left the room, but Lara stayed where she was. Ed looked over his half glasses at her, his eyebrows lifted.
“Conley wants a meeting,” she said. “With the two of us this afternoon. At his place.”
“A meeting? How much time will it take? I have to be at the bank before five and I’m taking Bess out tonight. What does he want?”
He was taking Bess out? Lara wondered briefly what that was all about, then she put aside the question. She’d call Bess later and find out. If Conley was lying and he did want to fight the divorce, then Lara had more important things to worry about than what her father and Bess were up to.
“I don’t know what he wants, Ed. Something about the divorce, I guess. What else could it be?”
“Then why does he need me?”
“I have no idea.”
As Lara spoke, an indescribable weariness came over her. Her life felt as if it were melting under the onslaught of heated emotions and disappointments. Ed stared at her and started to speak, but all at once Lara gathered her papers and stood. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say, no matter what it was. She turned and walked out of his office.
She couldn’t handle anything more.
LATE THAT AFTERNOON, Conley limped around his office with a restless energy, the cord of his headset dragging along behind him. His leg was feeling better, but it still hurt some. He grimaced against the pain and concentrated on his phone call.
“Have you checked on the dip switches on lines two and four? Those com lines have to be open and clear or there might be a timing problem. If all the buses are trying to use the same path, the data’s gonna cross and everything will be scrambled.”
He waited for the translator to relay his question and cursed silently. He should be there in person! How could you fix a computer without seeing what in the hell was going on? It wasn’t just the data that was getting scrambled, he was sure. There was no way someone who didn’t know what they were doing could follow his directions.
Looking
