Temptations - The Complete Series Page 14

  But, as I looked up case law and statutes and wrote my brief, my mind was wandering. I found myself involuntarily thinking about Slade, again and again. I touched my fingers to my lips as I thought about how they burned for Slade. Nobody had ever made me feel quite the way that Slade did, and, in fact, nobody had ever come close. It was just that he was incredibly sexy and was a masterful, absolutely masterful, lover. It was more than that. I really did feel that he had the power to heal me. To enable me to forget all that happened to me. Certainly, it was wonderful that I had ways of trying to push my pain down – running, renovating houses – but these other things were stop-gap at best. They were band-aids.

  Slade might hold the key to making me whole, which I hadn’t been in a long, long time.

  He wasn’t coming in that week. And, he wasn’t calling me, either.

  I worked for the rest of that day on my brief, and then I made an appointment to go and see Santino. He wasn’t changing his mind, of course, about taking the deal, but I hoped that I could work with him.

  I headed home, after picking up the dogs, fully intending to be brave enough to try to communicate with Jordan. It needed to be done, sooner rather than later, so that our firm might be able to get a lead on who was really responsible for Jordan’s death. I hoped that Slade wasn’t good for the death, and I couldn’t imagine Jane was either. So, there had to be somebody else.

  I got home, fed the dogs, and put them out. Then I let them on my lap as I sat in the easy chair in the living room. I clicked on the television but then realized about halfway through the program, that I wasn’t interested in watching TV. I was only procrastinating, and I had to stop that. Soon!

  With a sigh, I pet the dogs’ heads before going over to the garbage sack that was full of Jordan’s clothes. I dreaded doing this, but it needed to be done, sooner or later. I would have done absolutely anything to guarantee Slade’s freedom.

  I selected something, a golf shirt, and sat back down in the easy chair. The two dogs leaped back on my lap, and I pet their heads absent-mindedly. They whined a little, their little ears perking up.

  I considered the dogs’ reaction to be a good sign. Animals were known to have a sixth sense, much more than humans, so if there was a spirit around in my home, the dogs would be the first to sense it.

  “What is it, Bella?” I asked the little dog, who was still looking alert, her ears pointing straight up in the air. “Do you sense that Jordan is around?”

  She didn’t answer, of course, but she continued to look as if she was on high alert. Gigi whined a little bit, and she jumped off my lap and went to the door. She barked and started to run around, her little body wriggling.

  I let her outside, and she took off. Bella, for her part, followed Gigi out the door.

  I shook my head, not certain about why the dogs were acting weird. I hoped that they had felt the presence of a spirit, but, most likely, there was a bunny or a possum outside.

  Then, when the dogs came back to the sliding glass door, I smelled it. A skunk. I smelled both of the dogs and neither smelled like skunk, thank god. “Come on in,” I said to them. “Here I was all excited, thinking that you guys were sensing Jordan.”

  I settled back into my chair, and the dogs joined me. They both put their heads down, and I soon heard them snoring.

  So much for them sensing Jordan. It was clear that neither dog was sensing anything, and I wondered if this whole thing was going to be fruitful.

  I took a deep breath and nervously fingered the shirt. I closed my eyes and put the shirt to my face and breathed in deep. It was laundered and smelled of Tide detergent. I felt my heart racing as I concentrated on the article of clothing.

  So far, nothing. But that was okay. Sometimes it took awhile.

  Then suddenly, I felt it. I was there in the lab. I was looking through Jordan’s eyes. It was weird, being in his body, because I got a sense for how his brain was working. Jordan’s mind was feverish, dreamy, and chaotic. I felt all of these things. As Jordan, my thoughts were racing a million miles an hour, but I was able to concentrate on something.

  I looked around the lab. There wasn’t anyone there, but there seemed to be a number of top-secret concoctions that were in various tubes.

  I suddenly had a flash, and I knew what Jordan had been working on before he died.

  I wondered if that had anything to do with why he was killed.

  Too soon, I was out of the lab and back in my chair. I knew that Jordan was showing me just what he wanted to show me, so I knew that what I saw in that lab had to be significant.

  My heart was pounding. I had to talk to Malcolm, because, while the ‘tour’ of Jordan’s lab didn’t exactly show me who killed him, it did, possibly, show me why he was killed. Not that what I saw exonerated Slade, or Jane, for that matter. But it was something to go on.

  I looked at the clock, and it read 9 PM. It wasn’t exactly early, but it wasn’t that late, either. I knew that Malcolm had a wife and two children, but it was early summer and school was out, so I decided to give him a call.

  “Serena,” he said after picking up on the third ring. “What’s happening?”

  “I need to talk to you. I got a very brief reading off of Jordan’s things, and Jordan showed me something that he obviously felt was significant. Unfortunately, though, I was brought back to reality a little too soon to understand what the significance was of this finding, though.”

  “Well, what was it?” he asked me. “I’m waiting here with bated breath.”

  “Jordan was working on something before he died. Slade has made reference to it, but he said that he had no idea what Jordan was working on, only that he knew that Jordan was hard at work on something that would revolutionize the drug industry. I now know what it was.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Jordan was apparently working on a marijuana pill.”

  Malcolm was silent for a few minutes. “And?” he finally said.

  I shook my head. “A marijuana pill. That has to be behind the whole murder, somehow, someway.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Malcolm said. “Marijuana pills are already on the market. They aren’t common, but they have been developed. I don’t see how that could get him killed.”

  “I don’t know why, either, but let me try to do a bit of research on this. I’m telling you, Jordan showed me this scene for a reason. That’s how spirits work, at least with me – they show me what they need to show me, and I have to interpret why I’m being shown that particular thing.”

  Malcolm sighed. “Serena, I don’t want to pressure you, but, please try again. Hopefully Jordan will show you who actually did this, instead of leading you down a path that might or might not bear fruit.”

  I shook my head. If only spirits were that direct with their messages. “Let me do some research,” I said. “And maybe I can start to figure this whole puzzle out.”

  We hung up, and I put my head in my hands. Slade has a farm in Oregon, and this farm grew, among other things, marijuana. What did that mean? It was a $10 million a year “side business,” and Slade had mentioned the whole thing only in passing to me, so it certainly didn’t seem like a venture that he spent a lot of time or mental energy on.

  Was Slade’s marijuana business significant? Perhaps it would be, but then again, that wouldn’t make sense. If Slade was growing marijuana, and Jordan was developing a way to put this marijuana into pill form, then Slade’s business would be even more lucrative. Therefore, I couldn’t imagine a scenario where Slade would want to kill Jordan just because Jordan was working on a marijuana pill.

  I decided to do some research on the current marijuana pills on the market. Truth be told, I had never even heard of such a thing, but, when I did a quick Google search, I discovered that there were, in fact, marijuana pills that could be obtained for certain patients. But, after doing a bit of reading, I also discovered that these pills weren’t desirable because they took too long to hit the bloodstream. Because of that
, smoking the drug was still preferable for those patients who needed marijuana as a medication. It was apparently too difficult to dose because of the delayed reaction.

  I bit my lip. I needed to find out more about Jordan’s marijuana pill that he was developing, but I had no idea how to do that. Our law firm could subpoena the records for the lab, but would that particular drug show up? After all, it was top secret, to the point where Slade apparently didn’t even know that Jordan was developing it. It could very well be “off the books.”

  I drummed my fingers on the desk, trying to figure out why this particular drug was so significant. It wasn’t immediately obvious.

  I decided just to get some sleep and try to parse it all out with fresh eyes in the morning. That often helped me – to take a bit of a break. Do something else, and then come back to the problem. And I would get back to the problem the next day.

  Chapter 15

  The next day, I got into work, after going through my usual run and dropping off the dogs, and went directly to see Malcolm.

  “Well?” he asked me. “Did you get any more readings off of Jordan?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m going to try to go with the lead that he gave me yesterday.”

  “The lead? It wasn’t much of a lead, was it? He just showed you a pill that he was working on. That doesn’t seem very significant to me.”

  “Well, it is significant; otherwise Jordan wouldn’t have chosen that one thing to show me. How it’s significant, I don’t know yet. I only know that it is.”

  Malcolm merely grunted. He seemed to be in a foul mood. “Okay. Listen. You have to visit Santino today. He’s talking about jumping bail and disappearing.”

  “I’ll talk to him, but he’s such a loose cannon. I have no idea how we’re supposed to get him to take that deal if he doesn’t want it.”

  “Well, figure it out, or we’re not going to have a client. I know that he has a monitor on his ankle, but he knows people who can take that off of him. He also knows plenty of people over in Italy, and he knows people who have private planes. You have to get over there ASAP and talk to him. Try to convince him not to jump.”

  “Okay, I’ll go there after I put the finishing touches on the appellate brief. It’s due tomorrow before five.”

  “Forget about the brief for now. You have to get on this Santino thing. I’m telling you, he’s this close to jumping. Get over there now.”

  I sighed. “Okay, but the brief is due. That would mean….”

  “You are going to have to work on it this evening or later on today. I’m sorry Serena, but I really have no choice here.”

  “Can’t somebody else talk to Santino?”

  “No. You’ve been assigned the work up on this case, so it’s all on you. Besides, you’re the one that he trusts.”

  “With all due respect, sir, he doesn’t trust me that much. He hung up on me yesterday. He’s not at all getting close to taking the deal.”

  “Use your charm,” Malcolm said. “Call me when you get to his place of business.”

  I groaned, feeling used. Apparently, Malcolm was just fine with the prospect of me spending the entire evening, and probably into the morning, on the Stallwell brief. That brief was looming, and I hadn’t worked on it nearly enough. I had intended to have finished it at Slade’s, assuming that I spent the entire week with him. I didn’t, of course, so that was the one thing that was on my agenda.

  But, then again, Santino jumping wouldn’t be great for the firm, either. Malcolm didn’t say as much, but I had the feeling that his main concern was not that Santino would be in trouble if he jumped bail, but that the firm wouldn’t get paid if that happened.

  I felt totally cynical for thinking that way, though.

  I went to my office, packed up my briefcase, and prepared to go to Santino’s restaurant in Little Italy.

  I got to Little Italy and found parking. I loved this part of town. Trees lined the streets, and there were random houses here and there that were from the Victorian age. It was fascinating to me that there were still these beautiful homes in the middle of the city, even if these homes weren’t necessarily residences anymore. Also lining the street were pictures of famous Italians. Despite the fact that this was “Little Italy,” there weren’t only Italian restaurants in this area, although there were quite a few of these. There were also shops, sushi restaurants, pubs, and hamburger joints. Perhaps the most interesting part of this area was the airplanes. They flew so low over some of the buildings that I often wondered how they didn’t crash into some of the roofs. I sometimes felt that, if I stood on my car, I could touch the plane as it came in, although I knew that this was impossible.

  After I parked, I walked to Santino’s restaurant. It was a newish place with a garden patio outside. People were chatting and eating as it was 11 AM. I felt bad that I was going to be bothering Santino during his busy time, and, indeed, I wouldn’t be surprised if he threw me right out.

  I went inside and instantly noticed the high ceilings, original brick, and exposed large pipes in the ceiling. Despite the exposure of the pipes, this place was attractive and cozy. I found that the pipes actually added to the décor and the ambience.

  “How many will be in your party?” a lithe hostess asked me without looking up.

  “I’m not eating. I have to see Santino.”

  “He’s busy.” She seemed annoyed. “You need to come back after the lunch rush, which will be around 3.”

  “I need to speak with him now.” That said, I patted my briefcase. I had brought my legal brief with me, just in case I was stalled in talking to Santino. All I needed was a place to sit and research, because I also brought my tablet with me, so I didn’t even need Wi-Fi.

  “That’s not possible,” she said, and then she looked behind me. “Now, if you would please step aside, there is a line of people behind you.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t care about the line of people behind me. I need to see Santino now. Tell him that Serena is here to see him.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but, just then, Santino showed up. He put his hands on her shoulders. “Serena,” he said. “I’m busy. You’re going to have to come back later.”

  “I won’t. I need to talk to you.”

  “I’m not going to talk to you right now, so just give up.”

  “Listen-”

  “No, you listen. I have a business to run here. If I don’t run my business, then I don’t have money. If I don’t have money, then your firm won’t get paid. Now, if you will excuse me, I have hungry people waiting to get a seat and eat some of my delicious pasta.”

  I wasn’t going to get anywhere with him, that was clear.

  Santino’s face softened. “Listen, I’ll talk to you later. Maybe I can come to your house?”

  “No. I don’t feel comfortable with that.”

  “Okay. But I know why Malcolm sent you down here, and, I’ll be honest, he’s not far off. If you allow me to come to your house this evening, we can sit down and talk about things. Otherwise…” He shook his head.

  My heart started to quicken. I didn’t want this goombah in my house. I didn’t even want him to know where I lived. But, at the same time, perhaps I could keep him in town if he was looking forward to seeing me at my home that evening. And, if I got a chance to sit down with him, perhaps I could also get him to take the deal.

  “All right,” I finally said. “Be at my home at 6 this evening.”

  He nodded and winked. “See you then.”

  I walked out of the restaurant feeling apprehensive about what I had just agreed to do. I ordinarily wouldn’t have agreed to such a thing, but, at the same time, I felt that Santino had left me no choice. If I could keep him from bolting by letting him come to my house, then that’s what I had to do.

  I decided to go straight home and work on my appellate brief while I waited for Santino. So, I got the dogs and headed home. I called Malcolm to tell him what I was doing, explaining that I needed to
concentrate.

  “As long as you convince Santino to stay in town, I don’t care what you do,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  So, that was what I did. I went home and sat in the sun room and researched and wrote my brief.

  Right at 6, there was a knock on door. I put Bella and Gigi in their kennel before opening the door. There was Santino, a bottle of red wine in his arms. I inwardly groaned, because it looked like he was coming over for a romantic evening. His hair was freshly combed and he was wearing a nice pair of brown slacks and a button-down top. He really cleaned up well, as he was a handsome Italian man, but he was absolutely hulking. He was at least 6’4” and a good 225 pounds of solid muscle.

  “Hello there, Miss Serena,” he said. “I brought this bottle of wine from my restaurant.”

  I shook my head. “Come on in. I wasn’t prepared for this to be a night of alcohol.” I felt annoyed because I really wanted Slade to be there with a bottle of wine, not Santino the would-be felon. Yet, I still hadn’t heard from Slade, and that depressed me immensely. So, I wasn’t in the mood for what Santino was obviously in the mood for. I wouldn’t be under the best of circumstances, but I really wasn’t, considering the present circumstances.

  “Thank you.” He looked around. “Cute place you’ve got here.”

  “Thanks.” I wasn’t going to tell him that I was looking to move as soon as I could. That wasn’t his business.

  “You like living near the beach?”

  “Love it. I take the dogs to the beach after 6, and it’s nice to be able just to walk there. God knows parking isn’t so great in this town, although it’s better than where I came from.”

  “New York, right?”

  “Right. You remember.”

  “I got people in New York.” Then he looked sad. “Where do you want this bottle of wine?”

  I got out a couple of glasses. “Come on; let’s sit in the sun room and talk.”