Backfire
Page 36

 Catherine Coulter

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Bravo, Savich thought.
Whatever Siles would have said stuck in his throat. He turned red, then yelled, “I do not sit on a pile of books!”
Harry said, his voice lazy, “Come on, now, Deputy Barbieri, no reason to insult him. I’ll bet his dad was short, so what could he expect? It’s not very nice to rub his nose in it. Look at his office. He’s a very successful man. He could probably convince the devil to buy charcoal for a barbecue.”
Siles tented his fingers, regarded each of them in silence, smoothing himself out. “You’re all quite good. But these insults, they’re rather immature, don’t you think? I’m a busy man. What can I do for you?”
“Tell us about Sue,” Savich said.
“I heard about your interview with my clients without my being present,” Siles said. “I don’t care that they told you it was all right, because it’s not. If that happens again, I’ll take it up with the court.”
Savich said, “It seems to me a big part of the court is missing, and another part has been shot. So I’ll repeat what Deputy Barbieri asked you for, a last name. We know Sue is very likely an agent of a foreign government. Attorney-client privilege won’t protect you for long from Homeland Security and the CIA if you’re abetting espionage against the United States.”
Siles said easily, “Isn’t there an old song about Sue? I wonder why Cindy mentioned a girl named Sue?” And he laughed.
Savich said, “Because Sue is involved, a go-between. The Cahills’ handler. She probably hired the Cahills to help her get the classified documents from Mark Lindy’s computer, or maybe the Cahills looked her up when they realized what they had. I’m sure you can tell us how this all worked. You don’t want to be tried for treason, Mr. Siles.”
Milo Siles sat forward, clasped his hands atop the huge black desk pad. “I have never heard either of the Cahills mention a woman named Sue. I don’t know personally who this Sue might be, well, unless she was referring to my wife. There is no question of treason or of selling any of Mark Lindy’s computer data to anyone. The Cahills were being tried for murder, not treason.” He sat back, grinned at them. “My wife, by the way, is a bitch, and I’m taking steps to see she won’t be my wife for much longer. Trust me, I’d hardly be involved in some conspiracy with her.”
His desk phone rang, and Siles picked it up, listened, and said, “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He set the phone gently back into the receiver. “Poor Alicia. I’m a busy man, even on Saturday. She was afraid to put through the call. Are we done here?”
“And here I thought we’ve only just started,” Eve said.
Milo Siles looked amused. He studied Eve Barbieri’s very pretty face, her blond hair whipped back into a ponytail, showing off her well-shaped ears that sported small gold studs. Her red leather jacket was open, showing her black turtleneck. “When I first noticed you in the courtroom, Deputy, I thought you were real cute, all bouncy and clean like some of the female TV anchors, all tits and no brains, a girl next door every guy dreams about marrying. But let me be honest here. You’re not in Cindy Cahill’s league. She makes men forget their names from twenty feet away. She’d have no reason to be disturbed by your looks, such as they are. And you’re what, five, six years older than she is?”
She’s got him taking shots at her, Harry thought. Good work.
Eve smiled at him. “I guess that’d place me closer to Clive’s age, like I could hook up with him and it wouldn’t look quite so obscene. Is that what you were thinking, sir?”
She watched him quickly rethink his approach. She saw when he’d decided how to deal with her, all in about two seconds. Siles had defended some of the smarmiest, most dangerous people on the planet, drug dealers, extortionists, and murderers. Few people could shake him.
Savich could, maybe, but she? To him she was nothing more than a fly buzzing around him.
Siles said, “Who cares about ages, Deputy? They’re a loving couple. Wouldn’t you say you’re being rather sexist?”
Eve shook her head. “Not me. You want to know what I think? I think Cindy drives the bus and Clive has been expendable for a while now. I looked at him and wondered how long it would take before she dumps him. Not that she’ll get the chance now. I mean, she’s never getting out of prison unless she talks to us, right?”
“I have a client waiting outside—” He looked down at his Piaget watch. “Do either of you gentlemen have anything to say, because I’m finished talking with Ms. Ponytail here—Deputy Marshal, ah, what did you say your name was?”