Free Attorney's Run (A Nick Teffinger Thriller / Read in Any Order) by R.J. Jagger, Jack Rain

you get a phone call?”
    He did.
    “And?”
    “And I feel better,” Jekker said.
    That was only half true but the words were right to say.
    “Good. The important thing right now is to stay focused on Tessa Blake. This other subject won’t even be relevant for another ten or twenty years.”
    “Fine.”
    “Don’t take that as a license to have any more collateral damage though,” the voice said.
    “I understand.”
    “We all make mistakes,” the voice said. “But we need to keep them to an absolute minimum.”
    “I understand.”
    “Actually,” the voice said, “don’t ever repeat this because I’ll deny it. But so far, you’ve done an incredible job. In fact, I think it’s time to raise your compensation. By the way, we’re probably going to have a decision as to what to do with the woman soon, maybe as early as this afternoon. If we decide she needs to die, we’re not going to want her body found—ever. So start giving that some thought.”

    20
    Day Four—June 14
    Thursday Morning
     
    THURSDAY MORNING, a few minutes before ten, London muscled her bicycle through the heavy doors at the bottom of the Cash Register Building in the heart of Denver’s financial district and walked through the fancy lobby towards the elevator banks. She wore the same clothes as yesterday, except this time she also wore a backpack. Inside it was a Complaint.
    A security guard trotted over and intercepted her.
    “Sorry, no bicycles are allowed in the building.”
    She looked at him as if everything was okay.
    “This is evidence in a case,” she said. “It’s going up to Vesper & Bennett.”
    The man hesitated and then said, “Okay.”
    Venta was waiting for her by the elevator banks with a puzzled look. “What’s with the bike?” she asked.
    “It’s symbolic,” London said.
    “Symbolic, how?”
    “A show of defiance.”
    Venta cocked her head. “It shows my lawyer rides a bicycle,” she said. “If we’re trying to scare the pants off them, I’m not sure that’s the best way to do it.”
    London grinned.
    “It’s my way of saying I know they were behind the incident last night,” she said.
    “But you don’t know that,” Venta said.
    “Not a hundred percent,” London admitted. “But I will after I see their reaction.”
     
    UNFORTUNATELY, HOWEVER, THOMAS FOG didn’t react at all when he walked into the conference room carrying a large manila envelope in his hand, even though the bike leaned against the wall and grabbed his attention for a heartbeat.
    He wore a blue silk tie and summer-weight suit.
    “Thank you for coming,” he said. “Your time is valuable, so let me get right to the point. We’ve researched the issue as best we could in the time you’ve given us. We can’t find any evidence that anyone from the firm hired Ms. Devenelle.”
    London frowned.
    Fog smiled.
    “Nevertheless,” he added, “Ms. Devenelle appears, to my mind at least, to honestly believe that this firm hired her. We’re prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt in the name of resolving this matter quickly and fully so we can all go on to more important things.”
    He pulled a check out of the envelope, twenty thousand dollars payable to the order of Venta Devenelle.
    “We added a couple of thousand to cover any associated attorney fees,” he said. London handed the check to Venta for her inspection. “So, I think that concludes our business.”
    London cocked her head.
    Something was wrong.
    She couldn’t put her finger on what it was.
    Then Fog pulled a stapled set of papers out of the envelope, about four pages. He slid the document across the table to Venta as he looked at London and said, “We’ll need Ms. Devenelle to sign a release, of course, just so all the paperwork is in order.”
    Venta pulled a pen out of her purse and started flipping to the last page.
    “Hold on,” London said. Then to Fog, “You don’t mind if we read this first, I assume.”
    He looked at his watch. “Of course