Hour of Need (Scarlet Falls #1)(14)

“Good morning, Mr. Peyton.” Ellie returned to her typing. Looking busy was the best way to avoid any further discussion with the old crank. Nothing on this earth except hustling employees and tidy profits pleased the man. When he exited, the building exhaled in relief.

Her intercom buzzed. “I need to see you in my office, Ellie.”

Ellie picked up her steno pad and walked across the dark blue carpet into her boss’s expansive suite.

Roger was at the wet bar, pouring himself a generous shot of Glenfiddich.

Smoothing her skirt under her, she perched on a red leather wing chair facing his antique mahogany desk. She poised her pen over the notebook and waited. To her right, a bay window looked out onto First Street. Blue velvet curtains framed the view and puddled luxuriously on the floor. “If you keep drinking at nine a.m., he’s going to outlive you.”

Roger snorted. “He’s going to outlive me no matter what I do. I suspect he negotiated an airtight contract at the crossroads.”

At fifty-seven, Roger Peyton Jr., one of the three partners of Peyton, Peyton, and Griffin, was waiting for his father to die. Until Peyton Senior passed on, Roger had to run all major decisions past the old man, who mired the business in the traditions of the 1950s. There were no female attorneys and no male paralegals. The firm was small enough to slide eel-like under equal opportunity legislation. Men dressed in suits and ties. Women wore skirts, pantyhose, and pumps. Casual day was for the riffraff not lucky enough to be employed by this prestigious firm. Peyton Senior liked to drop by for surprise visits. Now that arthritis kept him from playing golf, fault-finding and yelling seemed to be his hobbies.

Half the office employees would pop a bottle of champagne when the old guy finally kicked.

Ellie had worked enough crappy jobs that she was willing to deal. If stodgy earned her a decent paycheck and medical benefits, then she could be as old-fashioned as the next girl, even if the job occasionally required sacrificing a tiny portion of her soul.

“Did you finish packing Lee’s personal items?” Easing back into his seat behind the desk, Roger adjusted his double-breasted suit and tugged his French cuffs into place. He took a long pull of scotch and stared at her for a minute, as if trying to make a decision.

“Yes,” she answered. “His things are ready for his family to pick up. I’ve started sorting his clients as well. This afternoon I’ll distribute his physical files to the other attorneys according to the list you supplied.”

“What would I do without you?” Roger studied the amber liquid in his tumbler. “We’re in big trouble, Ellie. Not just my dad ranting and raving at imaginary problems because he enjoys it kind of trouble.”

She straightened.

“Have you seen the case file?”

“No.”

Last month, the town had been rocked by a vicious case of bullying and the associated suicide of seventeen-year-old Lindsay Hamilton. The two alleged ringleaders of the campaign to torment Lindsay were members of the elite Valley Figure Skating Club, a competitive skating team Lindsay had joined upon her move from California to New York. The bullies were also in the top of the junior class, student council officers, and two of the brightest stars in the community. Their families had deep roots in Scarlet Falls. Lindsay’s parents claimed the bullying had driven their daughter to take her own life. The allegations were denied by the accused and their parents. No witnesses came forward. Threatening texts were sent from untraceable burner phones, and Lindsay’s phone had been wiped clean by a cell phone virus. The police had dropped the case due to lack of evidence, but Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton were determined to pursue their case in civil court. Last week, Lee had agreed to represent them.

The Hamilton case was the only case not reassigned. At some point, one of the senior partners would have to call Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, but so far, Roger was playing the out-of-sight-out-of-mind card. Ignoring things and hoping they’d go away was his favorite business tactic.

“I think Lee took that file home with him. I need it, Ellie. Really need it. I need you to get into his house and look for it.” Roger tossed back the rest of his drink. He got up and poured himself another, then brought the bottle back to his desk. “Did Lee tell you he’d agreed to take the Hamilton case?”

“Yes, I knew. Lee met with the Hamiltons the day he . . . died.” She couldn’t say the word murdered. The thought of Lee and Kate being killed was still foreign and unreal. Speaking the words aloud hurt. She looked up at her boss and decided not to mention Lee’s previous meeting with the Hamiltons a few days before his death.

“Did you mention the case to anyone?” Cold anger congealed in Roger’s gray eyes—and Ellie knew why her boss was so upset. Lee hadn’t gotten Roger’s approval before taking the case. Associates were encouraged to bring in clients, but there was an understanding that sensitive issues would be cleared with the partners first. Lee, clearly unsure of his chances, had opted for forgiveness instead of permission. He’d met the Hamiltons at their home instead of bringing them into the office—in hindsight, another sign he didn’t want Roger’s input on his decision. Now Roger was taking the heat for Lee’s decision. The Hamilton case was controversial. The buttoned-down senior Peyton didn’t approve of controversy. Peyton, Peyton, and Griffin was built on a foundation of solid law practice, not media circuses.

“No,” she said. “You should know I would never be indiscreet.” Even though it had felt wrong, she’d kept her mouth closed when Roger had been cheating on his wife.