The Betrayal. Terry Lynn Thomas

where is he?”

      Mary looked at her watch. “Probably on his way to Peet’s. I’m meeting him for coffee in twenty minutes.” The Rainwater file sat on the corner of her desk. She pulled the summons out with a flourish and grabbed her purse. “Back soon.”

      Olivia laughed. “Just make sure he doesn’t follow you to your car.”

      “Don’t worry. I’ve got my pepper spray. Oh, Claire Montreaux will be here in ten minutes or so. Want me to get some sandwiches for your birthday lunch with Lauren while I’m out?”

      “Thanks, Mary. Use the company card. Get something for yourself, too.”

      “Will do. Back soon.” Mary waved and headed down the street, walking as purposefully as a bloodhound who had picked up a scent.

      Olivia surveyed the small office, the home base of her work life for the past twenty-seven years. Her eyes roamed over the various diplomas and certificates that hung on the wall, the bank of filing cabinets, the stacks of files and papers. She had worked hard for all of this, but the time had come to pass the baton. There was a gentle knock on the door.

      Claire Montreaux waited while Olivia unlocked the door.

      “Good morning,” Claire said.

      “I always keep the door locked,” Olivia said. “I had an angry husband come after me with a baseball bat once.”

      “Really?”

      “Yes. I was lucky there happened to be a policeman down the block. But I wound up with a smashed-in window, so lesson learned.”

      Claire was young and fresh and very much like Olivia had been when she started practicing law so very long ago. A tiny thing with black hair that hung down to her waist, Claire looked like a fifteen-year-old cheerleader. Although Olivia had never been opposite Claire in court, word on the street was that the young lawyer was whip-smart, had a photographic memory, and could out-argue the best and most seasoned litigator. Today Claire wore a very short skirt along with stiletto heels so high Olivia’s lower back threatened to spasm at the very sight of them. She felt old all of a sudden. Out of touch with this new generation of lawyers.

      Claire stood in the reception area, surveying her surroundings. She turned a slow circle. “This office has a really nice feel to it. Uncluttered with lots of light.”

      “Thanks. Of course, you can change things as you see fit,” Olivia said.

      The women didn’t waste time with small talk. Once they were situated in Olivia’s office, Claire reached into her spanking new Mark Cross briefcase and pulled out the partnership proposal that the two women had hammered out a month ago, when Claire first approached Olivia with the idea of coming on board as a partner. Several pages had been tagged with Post-its. Claire opened to the first one and said, “I need your assurance that Stephen Vine will still be sending referrals from his criminal practice this way.” She leaned back, confident and in charge, and continued. “My position is that Mr. Vine’s influence will be needed, especially since I’m new to the area—”

      You’re new to the profession, darling. Olivia didn’t say the words out loud. Everyone had to start somewhere, and she couldn’t find fault with Claire’s attention to detail. Granted, Claire was taking a risk, sinking her time and capital into her own firm so early in her career. Stephen Vine, Olivia’s long-time friend and well-respected criminal defense attorney, didn’t take family law cases and had been referring clients to Olivia for years. Claire would need those referrals, especially in the beginning.

      “—so will that be a problem?” Claire said.

      “Not at all,” Olivia said. “I’ve already spoken to Mr. Vine. He’s agreed to meet with you alone or with me, whichever you prefer.”

      Claire exhaled. “That’s great. Is he easy to get along with? I’ve heard rumors that he can be prickly.”

      Olivia settled back into her chair. “Stephen doesn’t like liars. Be honest and genuine and you’ll get along fine. Pardon my French, but he can spot bullshit a mile away.” She thumbed through her copy of their agreement. “And I have an issue I would like to change. I’m looking to be out of the practice in six months instead of a year. I’m willing to adjust the financial aspects accordingly …”

      And so the meeting went on. For an hour Claire and Olivia negotiated, easily agreeing on changes and amendments. By 11:35 Claire was gone, off to type up the agreed changes. Next week Olivia would sign it. After Claire left, Olivia turned her attention to her computer, methodically sorting through the thirty-plus emails she had received overnight, making note of things that needed her attention and forwarding the rest on to Mary.

      “I’m back,” Mary said. Olivia heard her putting food in the fridge. She came into Olivia’s office and sat on the couch. “Dear Roland wasn’t very happy. Silly ass. I got you sandwiches and a bottle of champagne. Will you be back after lunch?”

      “Nope. I’m going to check my email and head out.”

      “Good. How did it go with Claire?”

      “Well. She’s agreed to everything.”

      Mary kicked off her shoes. “Today I feel like a tired old woman. I have really enjoyed working with you, Liv, but won’t deny that I’m looking forward to retiring.”

      “Hard to believe, isn’t it? We’ve had quite a run, haven’t we?”

      “That we have,” Mary said. “And I don’t mind admitting that I’m a wee bit exhausted.”

      Olivia had just deleted the last email, when a new message from an unknown sender popped into her inbox, with a subject line that read: Check out your husband!

      “I’ve got an anonymous email. It mentions Richard and looks like it’s coming from someone’s phone,” Olivia said.

      Mary put her glasses on and leaned close to the computer as Olivia opened the email. The body said, “You think you know everything, don’t you? You stupid bitch.”

      Olivia didn’t think twice before double clicking the attachment. Grainy footage slowly came into focus. Thinking there was an error with the download, she started to close the file just as it popped into focus, revealing a nubile blond, younger than Denny, astride her lover.

      The couple went at it like rabbits, and Olivia was just about to exit the video, when the man – hidden by the camera – flipped the girl, so she was underneath him. From this new angle, Olivia recognized the man’s face. Richard. Her husband. Screwing someone young enough to be his daughter.

      “Oh, God,” Mary gasped, stepping away from Olivia, her hand over her mouth.

      Olivia closed the laptop and pushed it away from her. The sound of crashing waves filled Olivia’s ears. She pushed her chair away from the desk, as if distance would make the wretched thing go away. It didn’t. Her stomach clenched into a painful cramp. She picked up the glass of water that rested on her desk, but it slipped from her shaking hands, drenching her lap in water.

      Ignoring the mess she’d made, Olivia said, “Mary, would you excuse me. In fact, why don’t you take the rest of the day off.”

      Mary waited, her embarrassment balanced by a look of worry and concern. “Are you sure?”

      Olivia nodded. She waited until Mary had left and locked the door. Taking deep, steadying breaths, she pulled the laptop towards her, and ignoring the cold water that puddled in her lap, she forced herself to watch the video, this time with the sound on. When it finished, with Richard and his lover satisfied, Olivia sat at her desk, numb and unable to move, her stomach feeling as though she had eaten a bag of rocks. Olivia couldn’t quite catch her breath.

      When the office walls started to close in, she snapped the laptop shut and tried to stand, and despite her weak knees, somehow managed to find her way to her car.