The Intern(10)

“No, I just don’t like to hear a good woman slandered.”

“Slander? That’s harsh.”

“Her husband was murdered, and you’re implying it was her fault.”

“I’m concerned that the murder had to do with her cases. Not that she killed him or anything.”

“I thought it was random. But even if it was because of her work, the way she soldiered on, doing what she believed in, just makes me admire her more. So, sorry. I’m still your competition.”

He snorted. “You’re impossible. Just remember, I tried to warn you.”

She pushed both cocktails toward him. “Chloe’s giving us the stink eye. Here, tell her I bought her a drink. I have to work on the internship application anyway, so I’m gonna split. Enjoy your party. Happy birthday.”

And she planted a kiss on his cheek.

Ty always managed to get under her skin. On the walk back to the dorm, she couldn’t stop his warning from rattling around in her head. She had to bone up on the judge to prepare for the interview tomorrow anyway. Why not look up her husband’s death? It had happened after Madison left Catholic Prep, during her freshman year of college when she was busy and distracted. She’d followed the story in the news because of her interest in the judge. But maybe she’d missed something.

Sitting cross-legged on her bed with her laptop open, she googled “Judge Conroy husband murder,” and it came right up. Matthew Latham, age thirty-eight, a teacher at St. Alfred’s Country Day School, had been gunned down “execution style” while unloading groceries in front of the home he shared with his wife, Judge Kathryn Conroy, in Wellesley, Massachusetts. A neighbor heard three shots, looked out the window, and saw a dark-colored SUV speed away, but didn’t get the plate number. There was no description of the shooter. The investigators looked for links to the judge’s cases. But they never found the killer, so the motive was pure speculation. That was five years ago. The murder was still unsolved.

Still. Execution style. At their house. That didn’t seem random.

It was chilling.





5


Walking into the soaring lobby of the federal courthouse the next afternoon made Madison’s heart race. There were lawyers everywhere, male and female, all ages and races, united mainly by the soberness of their attire and their urgency as they hurried to court. Clients of every description filled the hallways, as well as law clerks, cops, security guards, a television crew setting up to film with a reporter whose face she knew from the nightly news. As far as Madison was concerned, this was the center of the universe. Where she belonged. Her destiny.

She passed through a metal detector and took the elevator to Judge Conroy’s chambers, where she was buzzed into a tastefully decorated reception area with spectacular views over the harbor to the skyline. The receptionist told her to take a seat. The judge was stuck in court, and it might be a while. Court. The very word thrilled her. She’d never been in a real courtroom before, only the mock trial room at school, and correcting that oversight was just one reason that she wanted this internship so badly. Losing the chance because of Danny’s legal problems would be a terrible blow. And yet, last night, she’d nearly decided to withdraw the application. Lying awake in the dark, she struggled—apply or don’t apply, tell or keep quiet? If she didn’t say anything, would Judge Conroy find out on her own that Danny was her brother? Hard to say. Rivera was a common enough last name. Maybe the connection would escape notice if Madison didn’t bring it up herself. What harm would it do to keep quiet, as long as she didn’t try to influence Danny’s case? The temptation to say nothing was powerful. And yet, after hours of mental struggle in the dark, she came down on the side that it just wouldn’t be right to withhold the information. Madison was an honest person. She knew in her heart that she should come clean about Danny, so the judge could have all the facts when she made the hiring decision. Who knows, maybe she’d be impressed with Madison’s honesty and hire her anyway.

She decided to go ahead with the interview but tell Judge Conroy about Danny. It was the right thing to do.

When morning came, though, reality hit, and her resolution faltered. She got dressed and took the T into Boston, in a panic over how to broach the delicate subject. At what point in the interview should she mention it? What exactly should she say? She rehearsed scenarios in her head, but they never went well. As she took her seat in the waiting area, she was feeling shaky and unprepared. Not because of her credentials. Those, she was confident of. But because of the Danny problem.

A young man and woman were already seated, both wearing conservative dark suits. She didn’t recognize either of them. She murmured a greeting.

“You’re here for the internship?” she asked, and they nodded.

No sign of Ty? Was it possible he hadn’t applied?

“Do you know if there are other applicants, or is it just us?” she asked.

They shrugged, not meeting her eyes. A tense silence fell. They were each other’s competition, after all. Madison sized them up, running through the calculations in her mind. They weren’t Harvard Law, or she would recognize them. BU, then? Or BC, Northeastern, Suffolk? There were many good law schools in the city, but none with Harvard’s cachet. It was just a fact. Harvard hooked you up. Judge Conroy—an alum—hired exclusively Harvard grads as her law clerks, like Ty’s friend Sean. That said, the judge wouldn’t hire someone based on their Harvard pedigree alone. They had to have the grades, the credentials, and the personality to ace the interview. Fresh off law-firm recruiting season, Madison knew she could do it all. Her interview pitch had been honed on a dozen corporate law partners. She went over it now, in her head. Top grades, law review, internship at the legal clinic last summer, hands-on experience, a people person, organized, a hard worker, rose from humble roots, yada yada yada. It worked before. She had the offers to prove it, the pick of the top Boston firms. Besides, Judge Conroy knew her and had personally invited her to apply. This internship should be hers for the taking. And it would have been, if not for Danny.