“Justice is always worth it.”
Burnside groaned. “I’ve never met anyone who talks in pretentious movie taglines the way you do. What’s worse is that you actually say it with a straight face.”
“Because I mean it.”
“We’ll see how you feel about that when you’re facing a judge and jury for what you did.”
“I didn’t make the deputy kill himself,” Eve said. “His guilty conscience did that.”
“And you don’t think saying things like ‘justice is always worth it’ paints you as somebody who believes she’s everybody’s conscience? That’s a load I wouldn’t want to carry.”
Eve ignored the comment, genuinely thanked Burnside for her help, and disconnected the call. Feeling sorry for herself, she got up and ordered a maple pecan bar and brought it back to her table. The thought of spending $500 an hour defending herself was terrifying.
How could she afford that?
She could only think of one way, so she called Linwood Taggert. His assistant answered with her perfect, Downton Abbey British accent.
“Linwood Taggert’s office,” Downton said. “How may I help you?”
“This is Eve Ronin. I’d like to talk with him.”
“Let me see if he is in.”
The artifice of that response annoyed Eve. Obviously Downton knew if he’d walked past her out of his office or not. What Downton really meant to say, in her possibly fake British accent, was “Let me see if you’re someone he wants to talk to or if I should blow you off.”
But the next voice Eve heard was Linwood’s. “Did you like the script?”
“I haven’t read it yet. I have a question for you. When do I get paid?”
“You already received the $5,000 option money.”
It was only a small percentage of what she’d get if the project went forward and would be tapped out in just ten hours of consultation or work with the attorney.
“When do I get my next check?”
“When someone buys Simone Harper’s script.”
“And after that?”
“When we get the green light for production of the pilot or, if we’re lucky, a straight-to-series order,” Linwood said. “Then you get paid as each episode is completed, unless you exercise your option to be a full-time producer. Then you’re paid weekly.”
“Thanks.” Eve disconnected and decided that she’d read the script today. Because the sooner Linwood sold it, the sooner she’d be able to afford to defend herself. She decided to take her maple pecan bar home and eat it while she read.
Before she got up, though, her phone dinged. It was a new email notice. Burnside had sent her the list. She sat back down to read it.
The names meant nothing to her. Eve would have to google each name, and look at the criminals they’d defended, and then decide which attorney was the least detestable choice to work with. But first she’d read the script. If it was terrible, and she walked away from the project, there was no way she could afford a top attorney.
A man’s voice said, “Is this seat taken?”
She looked up to see Ethan Dryer, owner of Big Valley Security, standing in front of her with a cup of coffee in one hand and a piece of coffee cake in another.
“I was just leaving.” Eve started to get up.
“Hold on a minute, please. I think we got off on the wrong foot the other day. I owe you an apology.”
Eve sat back down. “Really?”
Dryer dragged a chair away from the table with his foot and sat down across from her.
“I thought about how I’d have felt, back when I was on the job, if a guy like me showed up on my crime scene. I would have treated me the same way you did. I’d like a reboot.” He set down his coffee and held his hand to her over the table. “I’m Ethan Dryer, and I’m pleased to meet you.”
Eve decided to acknowledge the apology, and the courtesy, even if she felt it was probably insincere. He simply wanted to get her on his good side for the future. She shook his hand.
“Likewise. How is Grayson doing?”
“He’s on leave, but I’m not sure if he will come back.”
“Is he too traumatized by what happened?”
“On the contrary, I think it has lit a fire under him,” Dryer said, starting to nibble on his coffee cake. “He might take the sheriff up on his offer and join you in the big leagues.”
Seeing him eat prompted Eve to start in on her maple pecan bar. “Why didn’t he try before?”