Easier said than done with Alisha acting in Massey’s defense. “Do you realize who’s representing him?”
Vera pulled a file in front of him and flipped it open. “Alisha Hart, formerly of Gailey and Breedlove. I hear she’s pretty good.”
“She’s damn good.” And Daniel knew that on more than one level.
“And that’s why we need you to do this, Daniel. If she’s a formidable opponent, then we need to throw the best at her. You’re the best.”
Daniel had worked hard to earn that reputation and now he wanted to curse it. “I’ll cut a deal and be done with it.”
“No deals.”
He held back a string of foul expletives threatening to explode out of his mouth. “No deals? Hell, Allan, I’m not suggesting we let him walk. I can get him some time on the assault charge without dragging this into court.”
“We want him in court. People like this Massey guy need to see that we don’t tolerate this kind of thing on our streets. Pettigrew insists we make an example out of him, and you know what kind of power he wields with the party.”
Daniel didn’t like the wealthy city council member and he liked him even less now. “Why is he so involved?”
“It seems his soon-to-be-ex trophy wife has joined Massey’s fan club.”
“The guy has a fan club?”
“Yeah. They call themselves Masses for Massey. Best I understand, it’s made up of mostly women.”
“This case has the potential of getting way out of hand.”
“True, and I know you’ll handle that aspect, as well.”
Damn Les Massey for screwing up his life. “I’m still not comfortable with any of this.”
“Get comfortable with it. The party’s going to be watching you closely. If you play your cards right and get a solid conviction on this one as well as the Jamison case, you’re in as the next candidate. You’ll be sitting at this desk this time next year.”
Right now Daniel didn’t give a damn about the party or the election. “Then you’re saying I don’t have a choice in this matter.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Vera stood and walked around the desk, laying a palm on Daniel’s shoulder and guiding him to the door. “I trust that you’ll have this menace tried and convicted so quickly that you won’t have to waste more than a minute of necessary time. You’ll handle it well.”
For months now Daniel had wanted to handle Alisha Hart and he wished he hadn’t waited so long. Hadn’t been so cautious. Now he wouldn’t be able to handle her at all except during the trial, and that would have to be strictly business. At least for now.
As Daniel strode down the hallway on the heels of his anger, Allan called after him, “One more thing, Daniel.”
He turned to face his boss, reluctant to even consider what that one last thing might be. “What?”
“You have a press conference at noon to announce that you’ll be in charge of this case.”
Great. Just freakin’ great. “Is that necessary?”
“Pettigrew thinks it is, and he has the mayor in his corner.”
Pettigrew could kiss his ass, Daniel thought as he walked into his office and slammed the door behind him. The last thing he needed was to try some idiot who got his rocks off getting naked in public. Getting naked was much safer when done in the confines of a private residence. An unexpected image of Alisha Hart—naked—vaulted into his brain. He jerked back the chair from behind his desk and collapsed into it, cursing his bad luck and overboard libido.
He needed to get his priorities straight. He couldn’t let his major need for Alisha Hart’s company derail his goals. Since he’d signed on with the district attorney’s office at the beginning of his career he’d had designs on the top position. Since that first time as a kid when he’d witnessed his father knocking around his mother—and couldn’t do a damn thing about it—he’d vowed to see justice done. His desire to put criminals behind bars hadn’t lessened a bit, and neither would his desire for Alisha. At least, not anytime soon.
Right now he was charged with the unenviable position of telling her the news—and being in the line of fire when all hell broke loose.
Alisha breezed into her office to find Joe sitting on the edge of the reception desk, concentrating on the portable TV set in the corner of the deserted waiting room. “Do we have so little business that you’re watching cartoons again?”
Joe sent her only a cursory glance before turning his attention back to the tube. “Not cartoons. A press conference. And I think you should be watching it, too.”
Crossing the room, Alisha took her place beside Joe and nearly dropped the bag containing her meager lunch. “That’s Daniel Fortune.”
“Yep. That’s Daniel Fortune answering questions about your client’s prosecution and the new prosecutor who’ll be handling the case.”
Alisha tugged off her jacket and tossed it and the bag onto the desk. “Krauss isn’t in charge anymore?”
“No, and you’re not going to like who’s taking his place.”
“Please don’t tell me it’s that creep, Goeble.”
“No, not Goeble.”
“Then who?”
“The iceman’s going to do it himself.”
Alisha’s mouth hung open for a few seconds before she said, “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’m not kidding.” He reached behind him and handed her a piece of paper. “He called earlier while you were out, I assume to let you know.”
Alisha took the paper from Joe only to find the number to the D.A.’s office. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me New Year’s Eve.”
“I wouldn’t think a bar would be a good place to discuss it.”
She wadded up the note and tossed it in the waste bin. “Not in the bar. Outside of the bar, after I left.”
Joe had the gall to grin. “Well, did you do—”
“No, I did not. I went home and he went home, end of story.” And she was telling one whopper of a story.
She tossed Joe the sack. “Here. It’s a sub sandwich. Take half an hour to eat lunch, then get moving on the Massey case. Start working on the motions we’ve discussed. Now’s your chance to play attorney before you have to pass the bar. And call the temp agency. Have them send someone over to field phone calls, preferably one who’s worked in a law office before. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”
When she started for the door, Joe asked, “Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“Aren’t you going to call Fortune?”
“Nope.” She turned with a hand poised on the knob. “I’m going to pay him a personal visit.”
“I’d like to buy tickets to that little meeting.”
“You need to get to work. I’ll handle the A.D.A.”
Joe unfolded the paper from around the sandwich and crammed a big bite in his mouth. “Good luck,” he said without even swallowing.
As Alisha headed for the courthouse, she realized she was going to need plenty of luck and plenty