Wild Justice (Nadia Stafford 3)

I caught a glimpse of Jack on the way to the bar, only because he let me see him, so I'd know he was nearby. If he came into the pub with us, he stayed out of sight.

After we ordered a drink, Koss said, "When I first contacted you, I didn't get the impression you knew I'd helped represent Aldrich."

"I just found out a couple of days ago. His death brought it back and I wanted to know more about the trial, to better understand what happened. I saw your picture. I wa

s already taking a few days off work, and I have friends in Chicago, so I decided to see if you might speak to me. You seemed sympathetic before about Wayne Franco, so I thought . . ." I shrugged. "I don't know what I thought. I'm not laying blame. I know where that lies--on Drew Aldrich. It's just that . . . I never knew much about the trial. I was too young. I heard plenty, all from my family's side. I just . . . I want to understand."

"And I'm happy to help with that," Koss said. "Though I fear nothing I have to say will make you feel any better about the matter. Aldrich was guilty. We all knew it. But as a former officer of the law, you know that it's the defense's job to give their client his best shot, however uncomfortable that may be sometimes. Even for those who don't see it as a game, who are interested in justice, we tell ourselves that by offering the best defense possible, a guilty man will go to jail, that justice will be served, with little room left for appeal."

"I'm aware of that."

"Even so, I couldn't handle being on that side of a courtroom. Aldrich's case was instrumental in making me see that."

He took a sip of his whiskey before continuing. "You may hope I'll tell you he got an unfair trial. To say that there was evidence tampering or underhanded legal maneuvers. There wasn't. It was, in my opinion, worse than that, because this case shows a basic failing of the legal system. What Aldrich got was a world-class defense pitted against a small-town prosecution team. My firm saw the opportunity for an easy pro bono win, one that would bolster their reputation as both lawyers and humanitarians. They seized it. Your family paid the price, and I'm sorry about that."

"That's what I figured when I found out who took the case. Can you talk a little about it? If you have time?"

"I do, and I will."

He said little I hadn't already gleaned from news reports. As for getting a read on Koss, I failed on that, too. All I could tell was that he still seemed troubled by his involvement with Aldrich's case.

Did I find myself questioning whether he'd killed Aldrich? Not really. Whether he pulled the trigger or not, he was guilty, and I didn't have a problem reconciling that with the thoughtful man sitting before me. If you believe in something strongly enough, you'll kill for it. I know that better than anyone.

Did I think it was possible for him to sit here, being so patient and considerate, if he'd put out a hit on me? I doubted it. As good an actor as I was, I couldn't have pulled that one off myself. But I couldn't rule it out, either.

So we talked. He answered all my questions with no sign that he had better places to be. In the end, even when I was worrying that I was holding him up, he made sure I had everything I needed, and offering to facilitate discussions with others involved in the case. He sat with me for over an hour before he finally made his excuses and said good-bye.

Though I may have failed to come to any conclusions about Koss's role in my hit, that was certainly not the only reason we'd taken the risk of meeting him. We wanted to see what he'd do after I made contact.

I let him leave the pub first, as I made a pit stop in the restroom. Then I followed him at enough of a distance that if he glanced back and saw me, I'd seem merely to be heading in the same direction. There were enough people on the sidewalk that it was unlikely he'd even spot me. I watched to see if he made a call or texted anyone. He didn't. He headed straight to a campus parking lot, which happened to be the same lot where Jack had parked. I managed to get his car's make, license number, and the direction he was headed before Jack whipped up and I climbed into the backseat.

I changed my clothes and added a wig and glasses. I had no intention of getting close to Koss. The disguise was simply in case he glimpsed me in the car.

We followed him through the city. It was late rush hour, which meant the streets were busy enough to make tailing simple. As we drove, I kept the binoculars trained on Koss to see if he made any phone calls. He didn't seem to. He drove straight to a shopping plaza in the suburbs and pulled up to a park outside a restaurant.

"His dinner engagement," I said as we watched from a distance.

Koss hopped out and hurried over to where a woman waited just outside the restaurant doors.

"And that would be his wife," I said.

"You sure?"

"Yep. I saw her photo online."

They went into the restaurant. We didn't follow. Koss wasn't about to place a panicked call to his Contrapasso colleagues while dining with his wife. Which would seem to imply that he wasn't placing a panicked call at all.

Still, we weren't done checking out Sebastian Koss. Our next step would have been to break into his office, except he didn't have one. Or he did, but it was at home. Which was convenient, actually, giving us the chance to search his personal and business life at once. Except that when Jack called to check, a girl answered, presumably Koss's teenage daughter. No way were we breaking in with kids at home.

"What do you think?" I asked as we sat in the parking lot, car idling.

"Not going to assume anything," Jack said. "But he seems clean. Of wanting you dead, at least. Dig more tomorrow. For now?" He checked his watch. "Reservation's in just over an hour. You still up for it?"

I smiled. "Absolutely."

We hadn't gotten a chance to check into our hotel yet. Now we did.

"This is nice," I said as I gaped around the elevator, all polished brass and shimmering marble.