Angel's Verdict Read Online Free PDF Page A

smart, and very good-looking in a Hugh Jackman kind of way. One of the biggest regrets of her not particularly active love life was that she’d fallen for the outside of the man before she’d realized the snakiness of the inside. The affair had been short, painful, and an embarrassment to remember. “I take it you were listening outside the door?”
    “No lawyer worth his salt should pass up a good entrance line. Timing is all.” Payton crossed the carpeted floor, lifted the blind, and looked out the window. “I see the hire car’s already picked her up. I didn’t know you were advertising for has-been actresses as clients.”
    Bree picked up her briefcase and slung her tote strap over her shoulder. “Bye, Payton.”
    “Aw. Leaving so soon? Thought we might drop by Huey’s for a quick bite.”
    Since he wasn’t going to leave, Bree decided to pretend he wasn’t there. “Call me if anything important comes up, EB. I’ll be at the Angelus office later this afternoon.”
    Payton rattled the blinds. “Ah. Here comes the Chatham County patrol car. At last! I told them they’d miss her if they didn’t get a move on, and damned if they didn’t. Miss her, I mean. That’s our county Mounties for you . . . a day late and a dollar short.” He dropped the blinds against the window pane with a clatter. “I suppose they can always arrest her on the set. More fuss that way, and there’s always the possibility that Phil will have a real excuse to kick her off the movie. He’s been looking for a way out of that contract for a couple of weeks now.”
    Bree’s temper stirred, which was not a good thing. She dropped the briefcase to the floor in case the temptation to clock Payton over the head proved irresistible. “All right. You’ve got my attention. What’s up?”
    “Your new client is what’s up.”
    Bree shrugged. “You’ve lost me.”
    Payton linked his hands behind his back, strolled over to EB’s desk, and looked over her shoulder. She covered her computer screen with one large hand and said with majestic calm, “Don’t even think about it, white boy.”
    “Ooh,” Payton said. “Scary.”
    “These client files are confidential.”
    “So the ABA tells me.”
    EB scowled.
    Bree flattered herself she was keeping calm. She said, evenly, “You’ve got two options, Payton. Option A is to beat it. Option B is to beat it faster than that.”
    “Option C would be to let you in on the real skinny about the old broad that just left your office?”
    Then he smirked.
    Bree considered that smirk. Payton was arrogant and conceited and thought ethics were for losers. But he wasn’t stupid and he was very good at manipulation. “So you’re pissing me off for a reason,” she said aloud. “Hm. My first thought is you’re scared. That’s my second thought, too. What do you suppose would scare Payton McAllister, Esquire, EB?”
    “My cousin Titus,” EB said promptly. “And there’s no supposing about it.” She pursed her lips and looked Payton over. “Goin’ balder might scare him, too.”
    “Balder?” Payton said involuntarily. He put his hand on the back of his head.
    “Going balder, definitely. What about our client? You think Justine Coville scares him, EB?”
    EB chuckled richly. “That brave old lady? Nah. But we do.”
    Payton shrugged. “Fine. Have it your way. I came down here with the intention of offering a little professional courtesy in the matter of Waterman v. Coville, but what the hell. You want to see your client end up in jail, that’s fine with me. And even finer with my client Mrs. Waterman.”
    “Waterman?”
    “Mrs. Henry Newton Waterman. Nee Samantha Rose Bulloch.”
    Payton was the only person Bree knew who’d actually pronounce the word “nee” aloud.
    “Sammi-Rose Waterman,” EB said, after a look at her steno pad. “One of Alexander Bulloch’s daughters.”
    Payton sneered. He had a good line in sneers. “More importantly, one of Consuelo Bulloch’s