Egomaniac

Chapter 3

Drew

I twisted the dial on my watch. Twenty minutes late. She was sexy, and that one little soft spot that remained in my heart actually felt bad for how she’d been conned. But twenty minutes? I billed at $675 an hour. I’d just lost $225 standing in front of the damn police station. I took one last look up the block and was about to head back down to my office when a flash of color turned the corner.

Green. I’d always been fond of green. What’s not to like? Money, grass, those frogs with the bulging eyes that I loved to chase as a kid—but today fond was promoted to favorite as I watched Emerie’s t**s bounce up and down in her sweater. For a little thing, she had some rack—went nicely with that curvy ass.

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” Her coat was open and her pale cheeks pink as she panted from her sprint up the block. She looked different than she had the other night. Her long, wavy hair was down, and sunlight picked up little flecks of gold in its copper color. She attempted to tame it as she spoke. “I took the wrong train.”

“I was just about to leave.” I looked down at my watch and caught tiny droplets of sweat beading between her cleavage. Clearing my throat, I padded how long I’d been waiting. “Thirty-five minutes. That’ll be $350.”

“What?”

I shrugged and kept my face stoic. “I bill at $675 an hour. You made me waste more than a half-hour of my time. So that’ll be $350.”

“I can’t afford to pay you. I’m broke, remember?” She held up her hands in exasperation. “Swindled into renting your fancy office. I shouldn’t have to pay you that kind of money just because I overslept.”

“Relax. I’m screwing with you.” I paused. “Wait. I thought you took the wrong train?”

She bit her lip, looking guilty, and pointed to the door of the police station. “We should go inside. I’ve kept you waiting long enough.”

I shook my head. “You lied to me.”

Emerie sighed. “I’m sorry. I overslept. I couldn’t fall asleep again last night. This all still feels like a bad dream to me.”

I nodded and uncharacteristically let her off the hook. “Come on. Let’s see if there’s a chance in hell they can catch this guy.”

Inside the police station, the desk sergeant was talking on the phone when we walked in. He smiled and held up two fingers. After he finished telling the caller that stolen supermarket circulars would be a matter for the US Postal Inspector and not the NYPD, he extended his hand, leaning over the counter.

“Drew Jagger. What brings you down to the dregs? Slummin’ today?”

I smiled and clasped his hand. “Something like that. How’s it going, Frank?”

“Never been happier. Go home at night, don’t take my shoes off at the door, leave the seat up in the bathroom after I take a piss, and use paper plates so I don’t have to wash jack s**t. The single life is good, my friend.”

I turned to Emerie. “This is Sergeant Frank Caruso. He keeps me in business the way he goes through wives. Frank, this is Emerie Rose. She needs to file a police report. Any chance Mahoney is on today? Maybe he can help her out.”

“He’s out for a few weeks. Twisted his ankle chasing a perp on a B&E. But I’ll take a look at who’s in the bullpen and get someone good. What’s up? Domestic issue? Husband giving her a hard time?”

“Nothing like that. Emerie’s not a regular client. She leased space in my building a few weeks ago.”

Frank whistled. “Space on Park Avenue. Pretty and rich. You single, honey?”

“Don’t you ever learn your lesson, old man?”

“What? I’ve only tried ugly and broke. Maybe that’s my problem.”

“Pretty sure that ain’t your problem.”

Frank waved me off. “What seems to be the issue? Landlord giving her a hard time or something?”

“She leased my place for $2,500 a month. Paid $10,000 up front. Problem is, she didn’t lease it from the landlord. Got scammed by someone posing as a leasing agent while I was out of town and my office was getting renovated.”

“$2,500 a month. For your building?”

“She’s from Oklahoma.”

He looked to Emerie. “No Monopoly in Oklahoma? Couldn’t figure out that Park Place was five times the price of Baltic?”

I cut Sergeant Wise Ass off before he made Emerie feel worse than she already did. After all, I’d ridiculed her judgment the other night when she’d surprised me with a welcome home I wasn’t expecting. Enough was enough. Frank gave her some paperwork to start filling out and showed us to a private room to wait. On our way, I stopped to talk to an old friend, and Emerie was nearly done with the forms when I joined her.

I shut the door behind me, and she looked up and asked, “Do you do criminal work?”

“No. Just matrimonial.”

“Every cop seems to know you.”

“My buddy used to work in this precinct. Some of my first clients were cops. You’re a friend of a brother in blue, and do a good job for one, you get the business of the entire precinct and then some. They’re a loyal bunch. At least to each other. Highest occupational divorce rate in the city, though.”

A minute later, a detective I’d never met came in and took Emerie’s statement, then mine. When he finished, he said he was done with me, if I wanted to go.

I had no idea why I was still hanging around a half-hour later as Emerie flipped through her second thick book of mug shots.

She turned the page and sighed. “I can’t believe how many criminals look like everyday people.”

“Would make it more difficult for you to hand over ten thousand in cash if the guy looked like a criminal, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose.”

I scratched my chin. “What did you carry that kind of cash in anyway? A brown paper bag filled with hundreds?”

“No.” Her tone was defensive, but she didn’t offer anything more. So I stared at her, waiting. She rolled her eyes. “Fine. But it wasn’t a brown paper bag. It was white. And said Wendy’s on it.”

I raised my brow. “Wendy’s? The fast food place? Really got a thing for burgers, huh?”

“I put the burger I’d just picked up for lunch in my purse and carried the cash in it because I didn’t want to let it out of my hands on the subway. I figured it was more likely someone might try to steal my pocketbook than my lunch.”

She had a point. “Good thinking for a girl from Oklahoma.”

She squinted at me. “I’m from Oklahoma City, not farm land. You think I’m naïve just because I’m not from New York, that I make bad decisions.”

I couldn’t help myself. “You did give a fake real estate agent ten grand in a Wendy’s bag.”

It looked like smoke was about to blow from her ears. Luckily, a knock at the door prevented me from getting chewed out Oklahoma-style again. Frank popped his head in. “Got a second, counselor?”

“Sure thing.”

Frank opened the door wide, waited for me to walk through, and shut it behind us before he spoke. “We got a little problem, Drew.”

He had his sergeant face on as he pointed to the closed door Emerie sat behind. “Standard operating procedure is to run the complainant.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Oklahoma there, she popped. Got an outstanding warrant.”

“You’re shitting me?”

“Wish I was. New computer system makes us record the reason we run the name. Detective who took her statement had already entered in that she was here in the stationhouse. Not like the old days. Everything is traceable now. She’s gonna have to take care of the warrant. I’m off in an hour. I’ll take the collar and drive her over to the courthouse to answer the charges so we don’t have to put her in cuffs, if you want. It’s an appearance ticket. I’m sure she can enter a plea and take care of it easy enough.”

“What’s the charge?”

Frank smirked. “Indecent exposure.”

“So tell me the whole story, from the beginning.” We sat on a bench outside of the courtroom, waiting for the afternoon warrant session to begin.

Emerie hung her head. “Do I have to?”

I lied. “You’re going to have to tell your story to the judge, so as your attorney, I need to hear it first.”

She’d no doubt be pissed when she realized an appearance ticket didn’t require recounting the events in question. We would walk in, plead guilty, pay a fine, and be out the door in an hour. But my entire day was wasted, so I deserved a little fun. Plus, I liked the fiery side of her personality. She was even sexier pissed off.

“Okay. Well, I was here in New York for the summer visiting my grandmother. And I met this guy. We went out a few times, were getting close, and this one particular August night it was really hot and muggy. I’d just graduated high school and never did anything even remotely wild back home. So when he suggested we go skinny dipping in the public pool, I thought, Why not? No one will ever know.”

“Go on.”

“We went to the Y on Eighty-Second Street that has an outdoor pool and hopped the fence. It was so dark when we got undressed, I didn’t even think the guy would be able to see me.”

“So you undressed? What color were your bra and underwear?” Seriously? I was a sick f**k asking these types of questions. But in my twisted imagination, I saw her in a little white thong and matching lacy bra.

She looked momentarily panicked. “Do you really need to know all this? It was ten years ago.”

“I should. The more details the better. It’ll show the judge you remember the night well, and he’ll think you’re remorseful.”

Emerie nibbled on her thumbnail in deep thought. “White! They were white.”

Nice. “G-string or briefs?”

Her cheeks turned pink, and she covered her face with her hands. “G-string. God, this is so embarrassing.”

“It’ll make things easier to flesh it out now.”

“Okay.”

“Did you undress yourself or did this guy undress you?”

“I undressed myself.”

“Okay. What happened next? Tell me all the details. Don’t leave anything out. You might not think it’s relevant, but it could help your case.”

She nodded. “After I got undressed, I left my clothes in a pile near the fence we’d climbed. Jared—that’s the guy I was with—he took off his clothes, left them next to mine, went to the high-dive board, and cannonballed in.”

“Then what?”

“Then the police came.”

“You weren’t even in the water yet? No fooling around in the pool or anything?”

“Nope. I never even made it into the pool. Right after Jared came up for air, the sirens were flashing.”

I felt like I got ripped off. All that build-up and that’s it? Not even any groping? Before I could ask her any more questions, a court officer rattled off a list of names. I heard him call Rose, so I guided Emerie to where he was standing outside of the courtroom with a clipboard.

“Room 132, down the hall to your right. The ADA will meet you there to discuss your case before you see the judge. Wait outside. She’ll call your name when it’s your turn.”

Knowing where the room was, I walked Emerie down the hall, and we took a seat on the bench outside. She was quiet for a minute before she spoke. Her voice had a little shake to it, like she was fighting back crying.

“I’m so sorry about all of this, Drew. I probably owe you five thousand dollars for all of your time, and I can’t even afford to pay you five hundred.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

She reached out and touched my arm. I’d had my hand on her back as we walked and also helped her out of the back of the police car Sergeant Caruso drove us over in, but it was the first time she’d touched me. I liked it. Damn it. I didn’t know her well, but I knew enough to know Oklahoma was not the type of woman you screwed and screwed over. I needed to get this over with and get out of here.

“I mean it. I’m really sorry, and I can’t thank you enough for coming with me today. I’d be a wreck if I didn’t have you here. I’ll pay you back somehow.”

I can think of a few ways. “It’s fine. Really. Don’t worry about it. This is all going to go smoothly, and we’ll be out of here in twenty minutes.”

Just then, a voice called from behind the door. “Rose. Docket number 18493094. Counsel for Rose?”

I assumed it was the ADA. I didn’t do much criminal work, just the occasional traffic ticket or domestic violence charge for an existing high-net-worth divorce client. But the woman’s voice was vaguely familiar, although I couldn’t place it.

Until I opened the door.

Suddenly it was eminently clear why the yell had sounded familiar.

I’d heard it before.

The last time, she’d been screaming my name as I plowed into her from behind in the office bathroom of a rival law firm.

Of all the lawyers in New York County, Kierra Albright had to be our ADA.

Maybe smooth wasn’t exactly the right word for how things were about to go.