In Search Of A Hero

“So what does that have to do with us now?” Drydan asked impatiently. “We proved the group was wrong and our clients had not poisoned the lake in that area. Things ended great, and we still have them as our clients today, bringing in quite a bit of money for us, because of that win.”

André turned to his father. “Word has reached me that someone doctored information. And it seems that there are people out there getting ready to reopen the case.”

Drydan harrumphed. “Nonsense.”

“My sources are fairly certain of this. They warned me that this company and all involved in it are a possible target for suit in a cover-up.”

Drydan paused. The gray-haired man wearing the custom-tailored suit, the man who usually chewed up the competition and spit them out, paused and studied his son. “It’s a ridiculous charge,” he argued, but there was hesitation in his voice.

“You know that and I know that, Dad, but you’re the one who taught me that reputation is important. A high-profile case like this reopening could cause irreparable damage to the company.”

“So why come to me about this? I would think you’d love to see this company go under.”

André stiffened. Here it came. He and his dad couldn’t sit down without it turning into an argument. His dad wouldn’t accept him since he’d left the business. He had to poke at André to provoke him until they ended up arguing. “You know that’s not true, Dad. I only want you to admit you were wrong about firing Sarah.”

“She lied to you.”

André’s lips tightened as the old feelings surfaced, as bitterness rose. “She didn’t lie, she simply hadn’t told me the truth—at first.”

“Same thing,” Drydan said with a wave of his hand.

André’s temper heated even more at that simple dismissal of his feelings.

“I think we should stick to the problem here,” Rebekkah broke in.

Drydan nodded, and André knew now why Rebekkah was there. She was there to run interference over anything his father might not want to get into. Give her a point for initiative. “Right you are, Rebekkah,” Drydan replied.

Though André would like to finish this and somehow force his father to admit he was wrong, he reminded himself to stick with what he was doing. If he could get his dad to admit he was wrong about this case, then maybe… “I worked on that case, Dad. It’s my reputation as much as yours on the line here. I thought perhaps we could work together on this, go back over the information that was presented and check out everything on our end before the case is reopened so we can nip this in the bud.”

“They won’t find anything,” Drydan said, then paused. “But that might be a good idea. Just, um, what did your contact give you to bring you running over here?”

That was his dad, always the lawyer. “An interoffice memo from Kittering Lumber insisting that nothing be said on the subject, and it just so happens to mention Marcus Langley in it as putting out those orders.”

“He is the owner. There’s nothing unusual about that.”

“True, but couple that with the fact that there is a newspaper article saying Marcus knew nothing about what was going on up there. If I remember correctly, he swore that under oath. But this memo was written before the trial. I’m not sure, and it’s flimsy, but someone has decided to go back and revisit the site. My contact also said there is new evidence that has turned up that will prove Kittering’s parent Company, Langley International, did indeed assist in a cover-up.”

“Like what?” His father’s eyes cut sharply to him, intense with his need to know every detail.

“I don’t have that information. The contact only said to go back over the old records and to search deeply before our career ended up ruined.”

Actually, it had said before André’s career was ruined, but his father didn’t know it had been so personal. “What I want to do, Dad, is go back over the old cases, prepare a review on them. I’d like to see what we can find from then until now.”

“Does this mean you’ll be coming back?” his dad asked.

André hesitated. “I’m not giving up my own practice. You could have someone here work with me as a liaison. Someone who can be a go-between.”

“I’d rather you come back here, son.”

“I need to be out on my own,” André argued quietly.

His father’s lips tightened in anger. Then he nodded curtly. “Rebekkah can work with you on this. I’m adding you back on the payroll while you do this, though.”

“Dad…”

“That’s nonnegotiable. If you’re going to help clear up whatever this is then you’re on the payroll.”

Well, that compromise was better than André had hoped for the outcome of this meeting. He had thought his dad might refuse outright unless he came back to work for them. “Thanks, Dad.”

Drydan stood. “Thanks for bringing this to our attention,” he said.

André stood, as well, and headed for the door. “Guess this just might prove you aren’t always right, Dad,” he said.

Drydan flushed.

André continued before his father could comment. “I’ll find all the information I can and get started tomorrow.”

Rebekkah, who had been relatively quiet until now, called, “You will need to check with me about my schedule. I’m in court tomorrow. Perhaps the next day.”

André paused and turned. His eyebrow went up. Surprised, he worked to curb a smile. Though it had been a while since he dated, he knew a rebuke from a woman when he heard one. He should apologize for his presumptuous attitude. She was probably miffed about the shot he’d taken at his father. But instead he baited her. “I can work on it tomorrow while you’re in court.”

“Nonsense,” Drydan said. “If she’s the liaison I want her there with you working.”

Patience, André admonished himself. “Until then,” he said and started toward the door.

“I’ll let you know what time,” Rebekkah called.

Again, André paused, almost at the door. Turning, he met her smug gaze and smiled slowly. “Over dinner, because I’ll be busy all day Tuesday.”

When her smile collapsed and burgeoning surprise showed, he decided he’d scored his point. With a wave, he walked out the door and headed down the hall.

Rebekkah was forceful by nature, but she was going to learn when it came to being a lawyer she was way out of her league with him. He had a job to do and he’d do it.

Chapter Four

Brighton’s was the perfect restaurant for a meeting. Quiet, dark, a place where they could talk and it wouldn’t get out of hand.

Rebekkah liked that.

A lot.

It had taken five calls, four messages and two secretarial meetings before the two worked out their schedules. She could be as stubborn as he could about who would be in charge of this meeting.

Rebekkah felt she’d won. She swung her stocking-clad legs out of her car. Once standing, she shut the door behind her, wondering if André had arrived yet.

He’d wanted to meet at a local café. She’d nixed that idea, wanting to meet at the office over Chinese food—to which he’d said no.

Tan heels clicked across the dark asphalt as she headed toward the front door.