Mistress of Justice

didn’t steal it. I’ve got an alibi.”
    Reece nodded unabashedly. “Yep, you were out of town.”
    She’d gone to Maryland to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with her parents.
    Taylor said, “I could’ve hired somebody.”
    “I think whoever was behind the theft
did
hire somebody.” A nod toward the cabinet. “It’s a professional break-in—the burglar picked the lock and, whatever you see in the movies, that ain’t easy. But the point is that you don’t have a motive, and motive is the number one reason somebody becomes a suspect in a crime. Why would
you
steal it? You have a good relationship with everybody at the firm. You don’t need money. You’ve applied to law school—three of the best in the country. Besides, I just can’t imagine Samuel Lockwood’s daughter stealing a note.”
    She felt a troubled jolt that he’d peered so far into her life. “Well, I suspect Ted Bundy had upright parents too. It’s just that this is out of my depth, Mitchell. You need a pro—one of those private eyes you’ve hired before.”
    “That wouldn’t work,” he said bluntly, as if it were obvious. “I need somebody with a reason to be here, who won’t raise eyebrows. You’ll have to poke into a lot of different places at the firm.”
    Like Alice on the other side of the looking glass.
    Still seeing the hesitancy in her face, he added, “It could work out well for you too.” He toyed with his coffee cup. She lifted an enquiring eyebrow and he continued, “I’m a trial lawyer and I lost my delicacy the first time I ever stood up in court. The fact is if that note doesn’t turn up and I lose the case then I’m not going to make partner this year and that just isn’t acceptable. I might even get fired. But if we
can
find it and nobody learns about the theft then it’s pretty likely I’ll make partner here or, if I don’t want to stay at Hubbard, White, at some other firm.”
    “And?” she asked, still not certain where his comments were headed.
    “I’ll be in a position to make sure you get into whatever law school you want and get you a job when you graduate. I’ve got contacts everywhere—corporate firms, the government, public welfare law, environmental law firms.”
    As a paralegal Taylor Lockwood had learned that the engine of law ran on many fuels and that it would seize and burn without the delicate web of contacts and networks and unspoken obligations that Reece was not so subtly referring to.
    But she also knew that you could always take a higher path and, with luck, sweat and smarts make your own way in this world. She said stiffly, “I appreciate that, Mitchell, but my undergrad professors’re writing me all the letters of recommendation I need.”
    He blinked and held up a hand. “Look, I’m sorry. That was out of line. I’m used to dealing with clients who’re either crooks or greedy bastards.” A sour laugh. “And I’m not sure which are my pro bono criminal clients and which are the white-shoe folks we wine and dine at the Downtown Athletic Club.”
    She nodded, accepting his apology but glad certain ground rules were clear.
    Reece looked her over for a moment, as if he suddenly saw her differently. A faint smile bloomed on his face. “I’m kind of like you.”
    “How do you mean?” she asked.
    “I get the sense that you
never
ask for help.”
    She shrugged.
    “I don’t either. Never. But now I
need
help and it’s hard for me to ask. I don’t even know how to.… So, let me try again.” A boyish laugh. “Will you help me?” he asked in a voice filled with what seemed to be uncharacteristic emotion.
    Taylor looked out the window. The pale sun went behind thick clouds and the sky became as dark as its reflection in the choppy harbor. “I love views,” she said. “In my apartment, you can see the Empire State Building. Provided you lean out the bathroom window.”
    Silence. Reece brushed his hair aside then rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. The brass clock on his desk ticked softly.
    Taylor mentally asked the opinion of Alice, the younggirl in the English countryside who decided out of summer boredom to follow a talking white rabbit down its hole to a world very different from her own. Finally Taylor said to the lawyer, “All right. I frankly don’t have a clue what to do but I’ll help you.”
    Reece smiled and leaned forward suddenly then stopped fast. There’s a code of chastity within law firms. Whatever liaisons occurred in hotel rooms or