I checked the date. Recent enough that Gabriel should certainly remember granting the man an exclusive. Yet Lores had had to prod his memory.
I ran a new search now. Cross-referencing Lores's articles with Gabriel's name. I got eight hits. Eight over almost three years. Again, not unusual, given that Lores seemed to cover crime. Except that of those eight, five were exclusive interviews with Gabriel's clients.
Son of a bitch.
I called the number on Lores's card. He picked up on the third ring.
"Mr. Lores? It's Olivia Taylor-Jones."
A heartbeat of hesitation. "Yes. How are you, Ms. Jones?"
"Better after that article." I let out a sheepish laugh. "I wanted to apologize for being such a difficult subject. I'd had a few bad encounters, and I fear I was less than polite with you. But I was very pleased with the results, so I wanted to thank you."
"Oh. Well, you're quite welcome. You were very easy to interview."
"Good. Because..." I cleared my throat. "I have another reason for calling. You were so kind to me and so fair in your interview, and it's made it much easier for me to go out in public. I'm old news. But I fear that will change, and I think it might be wise for us to establish a working relationship. To avoid other media interest."
"Of course. I'd be flattered."
"About that..." More throat clearing. "This is so embarrassing."
"What is it, Ms. Jones?"
"I ... You may know that I'm estranged from my adoptive mother right now. Which means my income is practically nonexistent. I know about your arrangement with Gabriel, and I'm wondering if..." A deep breath. "If it would stand with me, as well."
"You mean..." Wary now, letting the words drag.
"Payment," I blurted, then hurried on. "Not as much as you'd pay him, of course. And I can guarantee you newsworthy interviews. Exclusives on my visits with Pamela Larsen. My memories of life with her and Todd. You'd only pay if you could use it."
"I see." A pause.
I waited, holding my breath.
"I'm sure we could arrange something," he said finally. "Would Gabriel be part of this arrangement?"
Now it was my turn to pause, pretending to think. "He doesn't know I'm calling but, yes, he should know. And probably get a finder's fee. He'd expect that."
A dry chuckle. "Yes, he would. When would you be ready to speak to me again, Ms. Jones?"
"Mmm, no rush really. I just wanted to confirm a few things."
He let out a curse as I hit the button to end the call. Then I speed-dialed Gabriel.
Death Penalty
Gabriel pitched an empty water bottle across the room, doing a rim shot off the trash can. Lydia had given up on the recycling bin after a six-month battle of wills. She now settled for muttering loudly as she separated his trash every week.
He'd shut down his computer for the day. It was still early, but the advantage of owning your own firm was getting to take off early now and then. It wasn't as if he'd leave empty-handed. His briefcase was already stuffed with files, and he'd synced his documents to his laptop account.
Today he had earned an early departure. He'd barely made it back to the office before being summoned to the courthouse. The jury had returned with its verdict. His client would be going to jail for twenty years. Which, Gabriel supposed, did not make it a good day for Nelson Rivers, who'd left the courtroom cursing Gabriel. He hadn't put much venom into the curses, though. Rivers was a smart man. He might not like going to jail, but he'd known he didn't have a hope in hell of an acquittal.
Gabriel's day had started equally well, with Olivia's meeting with William Evans. He'd been anxious about that, unconvinced Olivia could get anything useful on her own. But she had. And what she'd gotten could be the key to proving the Larsens' innocence. Or at least to raising enough of a doubt to give him another shot at a career-making case.
He was equally pleased by how quickly she'd handed over that file, despite Evans's warnings. She seemed to trust him in a professional capacity, which would make their partnership much easier.
To his surprise, it was indeed becoming a partnership. There was a reason he ran his own law firm. All right, there were several. But one of them was the simple fact he didn't play well with others. They brought too much baggage to the table, petty annoyances like morals and ethics.
While Olivia certainly had those, she'd demonstrated a capacity to nudge them aside when the situation demanded it. He'd seen a glimmer of ruthlessness there, which cemented his own growing sense that he could actually work--and work well--with Olivia Taylor-Jones.