Irrefutable Evidence Read Online Free PDF

plan? ”
    “ Exactly! ”
    Naya softened. “ Electronic or paper documents? ”
    “ Electronic. ”
    “ Which vendor ’ s software are you using? ”
    Sasha shook her head, ruefully. “ None. We ’ re fronting the costs for the Maravaches, so I told defense counsel to just send me raw data. ”
    Naya groaned. “ Penny-wise and pound-foolish, Scrooge. ”
    “ Really? ”
    “ You gotta pony up for software. It ’ ll save you tons of time. ”
    “ How many hours? ”
    “ Hours? More like days. Maybe weeks, ” Naya snorted in disbelief. “ Lord, Mac. ”
    Between her failing vision and her apparent lack of tech-savvy, Sasha suddenly felt like a dinosaur. “ Okay, well, usually you take care of this stuff, but you were busy with your mock trial in Trial Advocacy, so I talked to Will —“
    Naya held up a hand. “ I need the firm credit card, access to your laptop, and the CDs they sent you. Give me an hour, maybe less. ”
    “ Thank you, you ’ re a lifesaver! ” Sasha felt thirty pounds lighter.
    “ Aww, did your heart grow two sizes today? ”
    “ That ’ s the Grinch, not Scrooge. ” Sasha informed her, happy to share the knowledge she ’ d gleaned from the eight encore readings of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas that Calla and Hal had demanded.
    “ Have a holly, jolly get out of my office, ” Naya deadpanned.
     
     
    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
     
     
    Sasha stared at the spreadsheet on her computer screen. She blinked and looked again. The data didn ’ t change. She sorted the columns. Still unchanged.
    She pushed back her desk chair and stood. She paced in a tight circle, glancing out into the dark night. The snow that the meteorologists had been shouting about for at least twenty-four hours had begun to fall. Slow, lazy flurries tumbled past the window, illuminated by the yellow glow of the streetlight. She leaned her forehead against the cool windowpane and ran through the possible explanations for the pattern she ’ d just spotted in Mid-Atlantic ’ s claims information.
    Coincidence? No such animal.
    Mistake? Maybe.
    Malfeasance. God, she hoped not.
    She turned back to the monitor and scanned the rows of data. She ’ d spent the better part of the past three days populating those seemingly endless cells with data pulled from the insurance company ’ s electronic document production. Now that she ’ d seen the common threads running through the claims, she could see nothing else. She pinched the bridge of her nose and forced herself to think calmly. The worst thing she could do was jump to the conclusion that the Maravaches ’ insurance carrier was actively engaged in evil.
    This is a dull-as-dirt insurance coverage case, she lectured herself silently. There was no reason to imagine a heart-pounding criminal scheme. She needed to relax and proceed rationally. Surely, she ’ d made a data entry error. She ’ d just scrap the spreadsheet and start over.
    She pulled her desk phone toward her and hit the speed dial button to call her home number.
    Connelly answered on the second ring. “ Tell me you ’ re walking out the door. ”
    “ Umm …”
    He sighed. “ Again? ”
    “ I have to get through these documents before I take the 30(b)(6) deposition on Friday. ”
    “ Can ’ t you bring them home? ”
    She glanced at her laptop. One would think, but no. Everything was electronic. All the tens of thousands of pages of documents had been reduced to pixels. But if she packed up and went home, she ’ d eventually find herself curled up under a soft blanket with a dog at her feet, a cat lodged in her lap, and an attention-starved husband at her side. As enticing as that was, she knew she ’ d be more productive in her silent, moderately uncomfortable office. And, in this particular case, the judge had given her everything she ’ d asked for but had done so subject to the most onerous protective order she ’ d ever seen.
    “ Sasha? ” Connelly prodded.
    She suppressed a groan. “ I really