The Intern(20)

“Yes, was I not clear?”

So much for the idea that the judge only socialized with her staff on special occasions. Maybe she liked Madison more than the law clerks. They did have that special connection because of high school. Too bad she had to ruin it. This was her chance to speak to the judge alone. To admit she’d—what? Fudged? Omitted? Forgotten to mention Danny? One way or the other, she would spit it out.

“I’d love to join you. I, um, just need to finish up a few things—if that’s all right.”

She couldn’t leave without covering her tracks. Getting caught researching Danny’s case would make her transgression a thousand times worse.

“I can wait. Do you like sushi? There’s a little place in my neighborhood. I could go on Resy and see if they have a table.”

“That would be awesome. Thank you.”

“I’ll be in my office. Come get me when you’re done.”

She watched in amazement as the judge picked up her shoes, walking away in stocking feet. Not only hadn’t she been caught, but she’d been invited to dinner? Hanging with Kathryn Conroy. She felt chosen. But she couldn’t let herself get distracted, or she’d blow it. Nancy would come in, find a document with Danny’s name on it, and Madison would be toast. Clicking around the computer screen, she searched for minimized documents, carefully closing each one before exiting the database and logging off. She stashed Danny’s documents in her backpack and headed to the bathroom.

After a long, stressful day, her makeup had melted, giving her a shiny look. She freshened it, slicked on some red lipstick, brushed her hair till it shone, and twisted it into a quick bun to look dressier. If only her clothes were better. She wore what she could afford. H&M, Uniqlo, Zara, whatever she found on the sale racks marked down to nothing. Her outfit was office appropriate; that wasn’t the issue. But she looked like a poor student playing dress-up. Which she was. Someday soon, she’d be a lawyer with a lawyer’s paycheck—and oh, the clothes she’d buy. Maybe then she would look the part of the friend of the renowned judge dining on fancy sushi. Until then, well, fake it till you make it, right?

Walking up to the judge’s door, she took a deep breath and knocked.

“Come in.”

Judge Conroy had on a plaid trench coat—Burberry, Madison thought—with the collar turned up to frame her face, and had swapped out heels for a pair of chic weatherproof boots.

“Ready?”

Madison nodded, stepping aside and holding the door open, but the judge shook her head.

“We’ll go out the back,” she said.

Madison hadn’t known there was a back. What she’d thought was a closet door opened into a brightly lit, windowless hallway. She followed the judge to an elevator that operated with a biometric sensor. The judge pulled off a black leather glove and pressed her fingers against the screen, and the doors slid open with a high-tech swoosh.

“This is the secure elevator. Reserved for judges. The doors are bulletproof.”

Madison nodded, impressed. As they got in, she felt like she was stepping into another life, one of privilege, but also danger. It was thrilling, though maybe it shouldn’t be. Judges had these protections for a reason. Litigants got angry. They protested, nonviolently the vast majority of the time, but sometimes—well, just because the murder of the judge’s husband remained unsolved didn’t mean it wasn’t retaliation.

The elevator deposited them in a dim, echoing underground garage, freezing cold and smelling of gasoline. Bulbous security cameras bristled from the corners of tall concrete posts. The judge walked quickly, shoulders tense, boots ringing on the hard floor, looking around like she expected an assailant to leap out at any moment. They came to a white SUV. Before getting in, the judge looked in the back seat. Checking for intruders, perhaps? They got in. Anxiety came off the judge in waves. It was unnerving.

“Do you drive, Madison?” she asked, backing out of the spot.

“Occasionally. I have a license but no car.”

The judge nodded, as if weighing the answer. Madison wasn’t sure whether she’d passed or failed that one.

They drove up a ramp to a metal gate. A tone sounded and the gate lifted, putting them out on a rain-slicked street. Tree branches and street signs swayed in the wind. They stopped at a traffic light and watched a pedestrian struggle to hold on to his umbrella.

“Thanks for coming out with me. I didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

The words sounded like they came from the heart, and Madison shot a surprised glance the judge’s way. In the light from oncoming cars, her face looked white and strained.

“Is something wrong?”

The judge shook her head, clamping her lips tight, eyes on the road. Madison wondered if she was thinking about her husband. The clerks said they never spoke of him in chambers. But talking was good for the soul, for healing. The swish of wipers and drumbeat of rain on the roof created a sense of intimacy. Maybe the judge would open up to her. Though she was known to be very private, and Madison didn’t want to pry. Besides, once she came clean about Danny, the judge might not trust her with personal confidences. That thought was so awful, she wanted to cry. Maybe she should put off mentioning him until later in the dinner.

“Thank you for asking me to dinner,” she said to fill the silence. “I’d probably have forgotten to eat otherwise.”