Dead Reckoning Read Free Page B

city manager are screaming about budget again.” Mike Shelley was a large man with direct, square features and a mouth that was too big for his face. He wore a custom black suit and the requisite conservative tie over a crisp white shirt. His graying hair gave him a distinguished air without making him look older. His forthright expression revealed little of what he was thinking. A trait Kate admired even though it made her just a little bit nervous.
    “Can I see you in my office for a moment?”
    Surprise rippled through her at the request, and it was quickly followed by curiosity tinged with a low-grade uneasiness. In the two years she’d been working for Mike, she’d learned his habits and preferences. Lunch meant a raise. Dinner meant a promotion. The conference room adjacent to his office was usually reserved for ass-chewings. The only time an ADA was called into the DA’s office was when something big was going down.
    She wondered if this was something big.
    “Of course.” Closing the legal pad, she rose.
    He smiled as if trying to put her at ease, but it didn’t work. Mike Shelley might have the teddy bear face of someone’s favorite uncle, but Kate knew a shark with very big teeth resided beneath his benevolent facade. He hadn’t gotten where he was by being a nice guy. At least not all the time.
    “Sorry for the short notice,” he added. “I know you’re busy.”
    “No problem.” After plucking a fresh legal pad from her drawer, she rounded her desk.
    They walked side by side toward his office. “This shouldn’t take long.”
    Several paralegals and administrative assistants had arrived to start their day, and Kate was keenly aware of the eyes following them as they passed by the break room and cubicles. The district attorney’s office was no different from other offices and had a healthy grapevine; it didn’t take much to get the tongues wagging.
    Mike’s corner office was the largest on the eleventh floor and offered a stunning view of downtown Dallas. His rose-wood desk was huge and as glossy as a new car hot off the showroom floor. It was stacked with the requisite expanding legal folders and a smattering of photographs of his wife and three children. Kate knew most of what he did was political in nature. But she’d always thought Mike Shelley was too good an attorney to spend so much of his time smoothing feathers.
    There were three other people already seated. Barbara Pasquale was a high-level ADA who’d been with the DA’s office for going on twenty years. Kate guessed her to be in her mid-fifties. She was attractive in a red power suit and conservative strand of pearls. She was sitting on Mike’s black leather sofa, a legal pad in her lap, her legs crossed. She made eye contact with Kate and gave a small nod in greeting.
    The man sitting on the opposite end of the sofa was Alan Rosenberg, who was also a high-level ADA. Thin and balding, he had a boisterous personality and was one of the best lawyers Kate had ever met. Every time she heard him argue before a jury, she was invariably relieved that he worked for the DA and not the private sector because there would be a hell of a lot more felons on the street if he did.
    “Alan,” she said with a nod. “Haven’t gone over to the Dark Side yet?”
    He grinned. “The thought of facing you in court keeps me here.”
    She snorted just enough to let him know she didn’t buy a word of it, and her gaze went to the third man sitting at the small conference table. Kate knew immediately he wasn’t a lawyer. He wore a store-bought suit that was too tight in the shoulders and a hideous tie with a stain in the center. He had steel-gray hair and jowls that hung like strips of meat off his face. But it was his direct stare that gave him away. She’d been a prosecutor long enough to spot a cop on sight, and this man had detective written all over him.
    “Kate, thank you for meeting with us on such short notice.” Mike motioned toward the two