Fatal Reaction

for another lever to get me to do what he wanted.
    “Of all the times for Danny to pick to drop dead! I can’t believe you would even consider deserting Stephen at a time like this!” He made no move to sit down, so I got out of my chair and walked around my desk to face him.
    “I have other clients besides Azor, John. Don’t you think I also have an obligation to them? What do you propose I do with them while I’m spending all my time haggling with the Japanese?”
    “Farm them out for a while. Get a couple of associates to help carry the load. Delegate, for Christ’s sake. What are we talking about? A month? Two months? If you want, I’ll go to Skip Tillman for you and make sure you get the help you need.”
    Skip Tillman was the firm’s managing partner. The thought of him and Guttman discussing the handling of my cases infuriated me.
    “Perhaps you should be the one taking over for a month or two at Azor?” I suggested, knowing it would gall him.
    “I’m not the one that Stephen seems to want,” countered John, sounding bitter in spite of himself. “Let me ask you something. You’re so worried about your relationship with your other clients, what do you think will happen to your relationship with Azor Pharmaceuticals if you refuse to get involved and the deal with Takisawa goes sour?”
    “You know how difficult negotiations are with the Japanese. What makes you think it will be any different than what will happen if I do get involved and it goes sour anyway?”
    “Allow me to refresh your memory, Miss Millholland. If I’m not mistaken, we serve our clients by representing them,” thundered Guttman, “not by refusing to do so. Or has your judgment been so distorted by personal considerations that you’ve lost sight of that fact?”
     
    By the time my feet hit the pavement all I could hear was the blood rushing through my ears and the sharp intake of my own breath. I hurried along the sidewalk, trying not to think too hard about what it was that was propelling me. I told myself I needed to get out of the office, to put some distance between me and Guttman. I told myself there was no other reason, absolutely none, for me to go talk to Elliott Abelman in person rather than from the relative safety of the telephone.
    I also rationalized that I was putting first things first. After all, if I was really going to take a leave of absence from the firm in order to take over the work of Danny’s life, that meant I needed someone else to follow through on the details of his death. No doubt the police were hard-nosed professionals who would do their job. However, I knew enough about how Chicago works to know that it also wouldn’t hurt to have someone making sure they did it right.
    I hadn’t seen Elliott in nearly six months. A former prosecutor and an ex-marine, Elliott had parlayed his legal training and connections with the city into a thriving practice as a private investigator. He’d also managed to get under my skin in a way that Stephen, with his matinee-idol good looks, never had.
    Elliott had done work for me on a number of cases; however, the most recent one had ended badly. The fault was mine, not Elliott’s. In my zeal to find the truth I’d given no thought to its consequences, which had turned out to be devastating. Unfortunately, in the emotional aftershock of its discovery I’d also come perilously close to behaving foolishly with Elliott.
    I took the stairs to the second floor of the Monadnock Building and gave my name to the receptionist. While I waited I pretended to examine the Art Institute prints that punctuated the walls, too nervous to sit down. I sensed him before I heard him call my name. So many things came back at the sight of him—the smell of his skin, the gentle pressure of his hand on the small of my back....
    Compared to Stephen, Elliott is nothing special to look at—indeed, there is an economy about him that is a direct contrast to Stephen’s swarming intelligence and extravagant good looks. A shade over six feet tall with a tousle of soft brown hair and warm brown eyes, Elliott is compactly built—good-looking without being handsome. The only thing extraordinary about his appearance is his smile, which not only completely transforms his face, but seems to illuminate the room.
    Ignoring any subtext, we shook hands and I followed him back to his office, which was large and furnished like the smoking room of a lesser men’s club. In the corner was a large