An Insignificant Case

Chapter Forty-Three

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Bridget left to get the coffee, and Charlie closed his eyes. He thought about Elin. He should be furious at the way she’d played him for a fool, but it was hard to stay angry when he thought about why she’d tricked him into making her part of Guido’s defense team. He wondered what he’d do if he had a sister who was raped and murdered for entertainment and he knew the identity of the person who had murdered her.

A hand on Charlie’s shoulder jerked him awake, and he saw Bridget looking down at him. He realized that he must have drifted off. He flushed with embarrassment.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

“No need. When I came back with the coffee, you were out like a light. I decided to let you get your beauty sleep until I got intel from Golden’s estate.”

Suddenly, Charlie was wide awake. “Did Sally call you?”

“No, but Gordon Rawls did. Elin sent us Leon Golden’s confession.”

“That’s great!”

“There’s a problem. She shot him before he made it, so his lawyer is going to scream that it was coerced.

“And there’s one very big and very scary problem. Gordon thinks that Elin kidnapped Sally Blaisedale.”

Charlie thought about going home, but the news about Elin Crane and Sally Blaisedale had bummed him out. Charlie called Gary and Bob and asked them to meet him at the Buccaneer Tavern. They were waiting with two pitchers of beer and three mugs. Charlie made a dent in one pitcher while he brought the Barbarians up to date.

“Jesus, Charlie, you sure know how to pick ’em,” Gary Schwartz said when Charlie told them that Elin had killed Gretchen Hall, Yuri Makarov, and Brent Atkins and crippled Leon Golden.

“Don’t rub it in,” Charlie said. “I feel bad enough as it is.”

“You really liked her, didn’t you?” Bob asked.

“She always seemed to be out of my league, but I was hoping that something would happen.”

“She didn’t kill you,” Gary said. “So, she must have felt something for you.”

“Thanks, Gary, for seeing the silver lining in this mega- fucked-up situation.”

Bob wrapped his arm around Charlie’s shoulder. “We love you, Charlie.”

“Thanks, Bob. I do know I can always count on you two, no matter how screwed up you are.”

Gary raised his mug. “I’ll drink to that.”

Charlie and Bob joined him just as Charlie’s phone rang. He checked the caller ID.

“Hey, Bridget, you’re not still at your office, are you?”

“Are you drinking, Charlie?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Well, I have some information that may sober you up. Where are you?”

“I’m at the Buccaneer Tavern with two degenerate bikers.”

“Gary and Bob?”

“You guessed it.”

“I’d ask you to drive downtown, but I’d have to prosecute you for DUII, so sit tight and I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Bridget said when she took a seat at the table with Charlie and the bikers.

“That’s the first time anyone has ever called Gary a gentleman ,” Bob said.

“She sees the real me, asshole,” Gary said.

Bob smiled at the DA. “Still think he’s a gentleman?”

“I overlook the faults of anyone who saves my life, Bob. Even yours.”

“Touché,” Bob said with a grin.

“I didn’t know you spoke French,” Gary said.

“If you two are done, I’d like to hear why Bridget is here,” Charlie said.

“I called in a favor at the crime lab. Carrie Stanton found prints on the memo and ran them through AFIS, the Automated Fingerprint Identification System. Alexis Chandler grew up in Scranton, Pennsylvania. She was a high school track star who went to UCLA on a track scholarship before dropping out in her sophomore year after severely injuring a man in a bar after he grabbed her breast. The DA said what she did was overkill, but her lawyer got her a deal, and the charges were dismissed when she joined the army, where she received the type of training that makes her extremely dangerous. Chandler served tours in Iraq and Afghanistan and is an expert markswoman with sniper training, very skilled in hand-to-hand combat, and she’s a whiz with computers and tech.”

“In other words,” Gary said, “she is one dangerous motherfucker.”

“You hit the nail on the head, Gary,” Bridget said. “She left the army a few years ago and went back to college to finish her degree. She was going into her senior year when Annie, her younger sister, disappeared. Annie left Alexis an excited voicemail telling her that Leon Golden was auditioning her for a part in a picture. When Golden and Hall were arrested at the Oscars, Alexis moved to Oregon and brought her skills with her. You know the rest.”

Gary raised his mug. “To outlaws everywhere. May the gods watch over Alexis.”

“Have you heard anything new about Sally Blaisedale?” Charlie asked.

“Yes, and it’s good news. Alexis let her go near the California border. She’s unharmed.”

“That is good news,” Charlie said.

“I’ve had a very long and very stressful day,” Bridget told Charlie. “So, I’m heading home. You are in no condition to drive, and neither are your friends. Can I offer you a lift? You can pick up your car tomorrow.”

“I’m pretty beat too, so I’ll accept your kind offer.” Charlie stood up, swaying a little as he did.

“Take good care of Charlie,” Bob said. “Good lawyers are hard to find.”

Bridget guided Charlie to her car. Charlie had to fight to keep his eyes open, and he lost the battle. When Bridget parked in front of Charlie’s apartment building, she saw that her passenger was asleep. She smiled. Then she shook his shoulder. Charlie’s eyes opened, and he looked lost.

“We’re here. You nodded off,” Bridget said.

“Gee, I’m sorry. I didn’t snore, did I?”

“Fortunately, no.”

Charlie straightened up and opened his door. “Thanks for babysitting me.”

Bridget smiled. “You were a breeze compared to some of the brats I sat for when I was in high school.”

Charlie laughed. “I appreciate you coming to the Buccaneer to bring me up to date.”

“I thought you deserved to know what I found.”

“Well, thanks for everything. Get a good night’s sleep.”

Charlie was going to say, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” but he stopped himself when he realized that he would probably not see Bridget now that Guido’s case was over.

Bridget drove off, and Charlie made the trek up to his apartment. He shucked his clothes in the hallway, shuffled into the bathroom, then dropped into bed. But he didn’t nod off right away. He thought about Alexis Chandler.

Elin Crane had been the girl of his dreams—stunningly beautiful with an amazing body and really smart. Way out of his league, and head and shoulders above anyone he’d ever dated. He’d been infatuated with her until he found out that Elin Crane was a facade behind which a duplicitous killer was hiding. He concluded that he’d thought with his dick instead of using his brain. As soon as it became clear that she was using him as part of a plan to avenge her sister, anything he felt for her had disappeared.

Now he thought about Bridget Fournier. Bridget had integrity. She was solid and trustworthy and gutsy and smart, and it dawned on him that he really liked her. He decided she was someone he’d like to know better. And he could do that, if Bridget were willing, now that Guido’s case was over.

He gathered his courage and got out of bed. He guessed that Bridget had just gotten home. He found her number and called her.

“Charlie?” Bridget said when she answered.

“Uh, yeah. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No. I was just getting ready for bed. Why are you calling?”

“Uh, I was thinking of something. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But now that we’re not on opposite sides of a case, I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner sometime.”

Bridget laughed. “I think that would be nice, but it can’t be at the Buccaneer Tavern.”

“No, no. It will be at a restaurant that we mutually agree on. You can even pick the place.”

“Deal. If you still want to have dinner with me when you sober up, call me in the morning.”