While Justice Sleeps(57)
“I was just looking around,” she countered.
“Okay, if you don’t want to answer questions, then just listen.” He slowly glanced around, running his eyes over every face in the café. “Ms. Keene, I have every reason to believe you could be in danger.”
Avery smirked, her mouth drawn. “Now I’m in danger? This morning, I was a tramp who’d accepted a bribe and possibly killed a woman. I think you need to get your theory straight.”
“I still believe you’ve been improperly influenced,” he retorted. “But that does not preclude the possibility that you could be in danger. If you had nothing to do with Mrs. Lewis’s death, that puts you on the wrong side of the equation. I’m afraid you might be the next target.”
“Of whom?”
“Of anyone who has a case before the U.S. Supreme Court,” he answered simply. “You hold an enormous amount of power, Ms. Keene. One person close to Justice Wynn is already dead. You have the ability to terminate his life and open a spot on the Court. People have died for less.”
“I am not killing Justice Wynn,” she protested. “I didn’t hurt Jamie Lewis. All I want to do is figure out what he wanted.”
“And the money? A coincidence?”
“Yes,” Avery lied. Neither of them believed it.
Realizing he’d made no headway, Agent Lee stood. “I don’t have a side in this. My job is to protect the justice system—including the Supreme Court.”
“Based on whose direction?”
“Attorney General Walters himself.” Returning his notebook to his pocket, he removed a business card. “Call me when you realize you need my help.”
“Right now, it would help if you got me the LUDs for Justice Wynn’s house for the past six months.”
“You’ve been watching cop shows, Avery?”
“No, I clerked for a district court judge in Baltimore. We had a number of cases where the defendants challenged the legality of call detail records and local usage data. LUDs.”
“Okay, then you know I need a court order.”
“I’m asking as his guardian. There’s no issue of privacy or need for a warrant. If you want to be helpful.”
“I don’t know.”
“Fine,” Avery said with a dismissive glance. “I don’t think I need help from the man who is trying to get me fired—if not arrested.”
“Then take it from the man who will also try to keep you alive.” He dropped the card onto the table. “I can’t do this, but I’m not your enemy. However, you might want to ask yourself who is.” He began to walk away, then turned back to her. “And you should have someone take a look at your head.”
Avery sat very still until he left.
* * *
—
About twenty minutes later, Noah entered the Starbucks. “Avery? I came right over. You all right?”
“For now.” She glanced past him out the window.
“Expecting someone else?”
“Jared Wynn.”
“Jared? Okay.”
Because she needed to tell someone, she added quietly, “While I was at Justice Wynn’s house, I was attacked. Someone struck me on the back of the head and emptied out his safe.”
“Someone attacked you? Are you okay? Did you call the police?” Noah looked aghast. “You think Wynn’s son was involved?”
Avery gave a wan smile. “I’m okay except for a raging headache. No, I didn’t call the cops. And I don’t think Jared had anything to do with it, but he might have information to help me figure out who does.”
“They have people who do that—figure out crimes. They’re called the police.”
“I don’t want the police involved.” When he started to argue, she gave a shake of her head and almost moaned. “Nonnegotiable.”
“Then at least go see a doctor.”
She dismissed the suggestion. “For a bump on the head?” Unless her head actually split open, she had no intention of going anywhere near a hospital as a patient. “I’d spend hours in an emergency room only to get a nurse practitioner who tells me to take aspirin and get a good night’s sleep.”
“Or she’ll tell you that you have a concussion and require observation.” Moving closer, he studied her pupils. “Have you been dizzy or experiencing blurred vision?”
“No, Dr. Fox,” she said with a grimace. “Nor am I sleepy or dopey.”
“But you’ve got grumpy down pat.” Without asking permission, he slipped a hand behind her neck and tilted her head forward. “I worked as an EMT in college; let me take a look at the wound.”
Avery allowed her head to fall forward, hair swinging down to cloak her face. “Knock yourself out.”
“You appear to have done that quite well,” he retorted. Gently, he probed the swelled area with careful fingers. Blood had caked to the split skin. “Looks like someone hit you with a narrow, hard object—maybe the butt of a gun.”
“Felt like they used the whole thing,” she muttered, her voice muffled. “Any permanent damage?”
“Not that I can tell.” Noah eased her head back and again checked her eyes, the focus improving. He sat deeper into the sofa. “What’s going on, Avery?”