The Dark of Day by Barbara Parker Read Free Book Online Page A

laughed obligingly.
    Noreen turned to pinch her husband’s lean, tanned cheek. “Donald here is a snotty Upper East Side brat, aren’t you? But he’s fun. He puts up with me.”
    â€œYou know it. I like ’em hot.”
    She playfully slapped his arm. “Don!”
    Donald Finch looked to be north of fifty, but he was still attractive, in a dissolute sort of way, with the shaggy, sun-bleached hair of a yachtsman, a square jaw, and a long, narrow nose. His sport coat draped perfectly, and his tie was a sumptuous yellow silk—the same color as his wife’s pantsuit, C.J. noticed.
    Squinting slightly, he focused on C.J. “Ms. Dunn, I understand you’re in the running for a job at CNN. I have a sister who works there. She’s on a project in Central America right now, but I think she might come see us. We should invite you over to meet her.”
    â€œThat would be lovely,” C.J. said.
    â€œDo you have a card?”
    She took one from her wallet, wrote her cell phone number on the reverse, and slid it across the table. “Call me anytime. What is her name?”
    â€œSarah Finch. She uses her maiden name. She married a friend of mine from New York. Playwright. Talented guy.”

    Noreen Finch dusted bread crumbs from her fingers. “Don knows everybody. You wouldn’t believe it to look at him, but he studied at the American Film Institute. Heck, you and he could’ve bumped into each other on the street. He got his master of fine arts degree from there. Oh, let me brag on you a little, Donald.”
    The waiter brought C.J.’s club soda in a tall glass. Paul Shelby leaned back as the waiter took his plate away, then set his elbows on the table and propped his chin on his fists. So far he had said next to nothing.
    Noreen Finch tilted her head. “C.J. Now, that’s interesting. Do you mind me asking what that stands for? Not many women have initials as their names.”
    â€œI don’t use my real name. I don’t like it.”
    â€œOh, come on.”
    C.J. made a dismissive wave. “Not on my life.”
    After a quick laugh and a glance around the table, Noreen said, “Well, Miss C.J., they say you’re a damned good lawyer. Is that true?”
    â€œSo they say.”
    Finch murmured, “Ms. Dunn would like to be another Nancy Grace.”
    Paul Shelby leaned closer to C.J. “Don’t pay any attention to Don.”
    Noreen said, “It’s a compliment! C.J. is famous. She’s been on Larry King Live. But I’m thinking . . . for a chauffeur, do we want a celebrity attorney? People are going to ask why the big gun? Then you get reporters crawling out of the woodwork, asking questions that don’t matter a damn.”
    This was going in the wrong direction. C.J. set down her glass. “I’m sure the media aren’t that interested in me.”
    â€œIt isn’t you I’m worried about; it’s my son. They go after anybody in politics these days. It’s a blood sport. God help us if this turns into a piece on Entertainment Tonight. Some smartass with a cell phone could be watching right now, and we’ll see it on YouTube.”
    â€œMother, that’s not going to happen.”
    Donald Finch pulled up his cuff to check the time. “If you keep talking, Noreen, we’re going to be late to the theater.”
    â€œWe have a box. What difference does it make?”
    â€œI happen to like Arturo Sandoval, and I want to see the whole show. Diana doesn’t want to be late either, do you, Diana?”

    C.J. turned to Paul Shelby. “The police are like anyone else: they respond to power. Call it celebrity if you like. They know me, and they know I don’t let anyone step on my clients. If I offer proof that Richard Slater was elsewhere, or that he had no motive to harm Ms. Martin, the police will pay attention. I believe this can be wrapped up within a few