Glass House by Patrick Reinken Read Free Book Online Page B

that
Landry’s allegations had a degree of specificity to them that
carried some seeming heft – places she’d supposedly been with
Waldoch, things he’d purportedly said – but they were only one
side of a story, and nothing too remarkable or unusual showed in
them.
    On a quick read, she counted two times when
Kathleen Landry said she’d traveled with Waldoch on trips that
included sex. Landry had produced the airfare and hotel receipts to
pin down the dates, and Megan flipped to the exhibits to see them.
Landry’s name was the only one on the reservation forms, and she’d
signed the credit card invoices herself. Waldoch’s name and
signature didn’t show up. Megan made a mental note of that.
    There were at least three occasions when the
plaintiff said she’d had sex with Waldoch in the office. Landry
identified the dates only by a guessed-at week, claiming they were
after hours, twice in his office and once in a company vice
president’s.
    The last of those was a particular focus. Of
all the assertions, it was the most salacious, with Landry
testifying that Waldoch had especially liked having sex on the desk
of a colleague he hated. She reported the conversations she’d had
with him that day at length, the events leading up to their
undressing in the other man’s office after everyone else was gone,
and the sex, oral and otherwise, they’d had on the desk.
    Besides those things, Megan caught
references to a number of more minor points. Some pats and touches,
pinches and kisses. A few hallway comments. Some dinners at
expensive restaurants, once in town and a number of times in Kansas
City. A vaguely described tryst in a car on the way to the airport.
A lot of it was specific, and little of it was documented.
    Again, it was nothing too extraordinary in
cases like this.
    She didn’t see anything about notes or
flowers. There was no testimony about candy or cards. No e-mails
professing anything resembling either love or lust. Nothing, in
short, in writing.
    By the look of it, Natalie Quinlan,
Waldoch’s original attorney, had done fine. Megan hadn’t
scrutinized the questions and testimony, but Quinlan’s examination
hit most of the bases, and Kathleen Landry’s recitation of the
facts didn’t appear to include any real bombshells.
    Megan closed the transcript and slid it to
the side. She pulled the phone over and read Quinlan’s phone number
from the transcript’s cover sheet. She dialed and waited.
    In her career, Megan had taken over only one
case that was previously handled by another attorney. The transfer
didn’t go well. The prior counsel balked at sending the file to
her, and Megan went to court to get an order compelling it. In the
end, the matter was resolved without much more, but it left a bad
taste.
    Megan had met Natalie before, though. She
didn’t expect anything like that here.
    Quinlan answered on the third ring. “World
record time,” she said when Megan identified herself. “You couldn’t
have had the file for more than an hour.”
    “Thanks for sending it.”
    “I wish I could’ve gotten it to you sooner,
given the time crunch, but I wanted Jeremy’s approvals and written
instructions in place. Sorry for any inconvenience.”
    “Not a problem,” Megan said.
    “You know, I didn’t know you were back at
work.”
    “A couple months.”
    “So I suppose I shouldn’t have been
surprised when Waldoch asked for the file transfer. I knew he was
happy with your work before. He certainly mentioned it enough. And
with you being back….”
    Quinlan was terse and to the point. She
didn’t sound angry, and she didn’t sound thrilled. Her tone was
unemotional and calm, as though she had expected the transfer after
all and didn’t really mind that it happened.
    “I wanted to talk with you about –”
Megan began. Quinlan cut her off.
    “He’s an ass, Megan,” she said. “You know
that. Right?”
    “I’ve dealt with Jeremy before.”
    “Which means you understand. It