Love Irresistibly
Page 22
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“It’s possibly a current employee who did this, Ian. I’m not comfortable having some person working for Sterling who’s malicious enough to hack into the CEO’s personal account just to write these kinds of things. Regardless of whether the FBI makes an arrest, I want whoever did this out of here.” Brooke paused, following his lead and making her tone lighter. “Besides, this is what you pay me the big bucks for, remember?”
Ian rubbed his jaw. “If I recall correctly, I pay you the big bucks because the last time you were up for a raise you gave me a sixteen-page report with charts and graphs of all the salaries for comparable GC positions.”
Well, yes. Although in her defense, Ian had cheekily asked her to “prove” what she was worth. So she’d done just that—charts and graphs included. “So you’re okay with my moving ahead with this?”
“You have my blessing to track this prick down, if you can, and give him the full Brooke Parker treatment.”
That settled, she got up and headed for the door. Just as she was walking out of the office, Ian spoke.
“One last thing, Brooke.” He held her gaze and nodded in appreciation. “Thank you.”
Nine
AT THE DIRKSEN Federal Building, inside one of the courtrooms, Judge Reinhardt read through the charges in the nine-count indictment the grand jury had returned last week in the case of United States v. Alec Sanderson, et al. To the right of the center podium, in front of the lawyers’ table, were five high-powered criminal defense attorneys with sober expressions. Behind them, the five accused sat stoically as the judge laid out the charges against them. Cameras flashed repeatedly from the gallery, which was filled to capacity with reporters, spectators, and a few family members.
Cade stood to the left of the podium, unfazed by the spectacle. Having been down this road before, he knew exactly the kind of defensive game these crooked politicians played. They hired the city’s most expensive lawyers and PR firms, who would cry foul and righteously protest their client’s innocence—Justice will prevail! We will have our day in court!—and then they would wake up one morning, have a nice dose of reality for breakfast, and start trying to flip on each other in exchange for a reduced sentence.
Along with Senator Sanderson, Cade had filed corruption charges against Charles Torino, the hospital CEO who’d offered Sanderson a bribe at Sogna; as well as a real estate developer who’d paid Sanderson multiple bribes in exchange for his assistance in moving forward several major real estate projects; a lobbyist who had paid off Sanderson in exchange for allocating state funds to certain projects; and the financial consultant who’d set up the shell company though which Sanderson’s bribes were funneled. Not unexpectedly, the indictment of the senator and four successful businessmen had been the top story in the Chicago media for the last week, and Cade’s office had been flooded with calls from the press. Everyone wanted to know what kind of evidence the U.S. Attorney’s Office had up its sleeves.
And in about two minutes, they were going to find out.
“How do the defendants plead?” the judge asked when she’d finished reading the charges.
One by one, the defense attorneys stepped up to the podium and responded “not guilty” on behalf of their clients. Sanderson’s lawyer then immediately asked the judge for extra time to review the discovery materials before a trial date was set.
“We have no objection, Your Honor,” Cade said. “Particularly in light of the fact that the U.S. Attorney’s Office has over fifty-five thousand documents and roughly one thousand recorded phone conversations that establish our case.”
And that would be the sound bite every one of those reporters would take out of this arraignment.
Because Cade knew how to play this game, too.
A low murmur rippled through the crowd at this revelation. Clearly unsettled by the news of the impending avalanche of evidence Cade soon would be dropping on them, the defense attorneys all fell silent for a moment. One of them, Torino’s lawyer, literally broke out in a sweat.
Then four of them hightailed their high-powered asses up to the podium to request that their clients’ cases be severed from the senator’s.
And so it begins, Cade thought as the judge set a date for the lawyers to present their arguments for separate trials. It was only their first court appearance, and the four codefendants were already distancing themselves from Senator Sanderson. Given the substantial evidence, it was only a question of if, not when, their lawyers called him to discuss a possible plea.
After the hearing, he left the courtroom feeling satisfied that his case was off to a good start. He checked his watch. Three o’clock. Time for a coffee run. At the elevators, he nearly pushed the up button, thinking he’d make a pit stop at the office to see if Rylann, one of the other AUSAs in the special prosecutions group, wanted to join him—and then remembered that she was in trial this week.
Cade headed downstairs solo and cut through the lobby, past the metal detectors and the security guards. Once outside, he’d gone about a block when his cell phone rang. He pulled the phone out of the inside pocket of his suit coat and checked the caller ID.
Brooke Parker.
A slow smile spread across his face.
A jackhammer pounded away on the opposite side of the street, so Cade stepped into a Mrs. Fields cookie shop to get away from the noise.
He answered the phone. “Ms. Parker. What a pleasant surprise.”
A throaty feminine voice. “I knew it was a corruption case.”
Ian rubbed his jaw. “If I recall correctly, I pay you the big bucks because the last time you were up for a raise you gave me a sixteen-page report with charts and graphs of all the salaries for comparable GC positions.”
Well, yes. Although in her defense, Ian had cheekily asked her to “prove” what she was worth. So she’d done just that—charts and graphs included. “So you’re okay with my moving ahead with this?”
“You have my blessing to track this prick down, if you can, and give him the full Brooke Parker treatment.”
That settled, she got up and headed for the door. Just as she was walking out of the office, Ian spoke.
“One last thing, Brooke.” He held her gaze and nodded in appreciation. “Thank you.”
Nine
AT THE DIRKSEN Federal Building, inside one of the courtrooms, Judge Reinhardt read through the charges in the nine-count indictment the grand jury had returned last week in the case of United States v. Alec Sanderson, et al. To the right of the center podium, in front of the lawyers’ table, were five high-powered criminal defense attorneys with sober expressions. Behind them, the five accused sat stoically as the judge laid out the charges against them. Cameras flashed repeatedly from the gallery, which was filled to capacity with reporters, spectators, and a few family members.
Cade stood to the left of the podium, unfazed by the spectacle. Having been down this road before, he knew exactly the kind of defensive game these crooked politicians played. They hired the city’s most expensive lawyers and PR firms, who would cry foul and righteously protest their client’s innocence—Justice will prevail! We will have our day in court!—and then they would wake up one morning, have a nice dose of reality for breakfast, and start trying to flip on each other in exchange for a reduced sentence.
Along with Senator Sanderson, Cade had filed corruption charges against Charles Torino, the hospital CEO who’d offered Sanderson a bribe at Sogna; as well as a real estate developer who’d paid Sanderson multiple bribes in exchange for his assistance in moving forward several major real estate projects; a lobbyist who had paid off Sanderson in exchange for allocating state funds to certain projects; and the financial consultant who’d set up the shell company though which Sanderson’s bribes were funneled. Not unexpectedly, the indictment of the senator and four successful businessmen had been the top story in the Chicago media for the last week, and Cade’s office had been flooded with calls from the press. Everyone wanted to know what kind of evidence the U.S. Attorney’s Office had up its sleeves.
And in about two minutes, they were going to find out.
“How do the defendants plead?” the judge asked when she’d finished reading the charges.
One by one, the defense attorneys stepped up to the podium and responded “not guilty” on behalf of their clients. Sanderson’s lawyer then immediately asked the judge for extra time to review the discovery materials before a trial date was set.
“We have no objection, Your Honor,” Cade said. “Particularly in light of the fact that the U.S. Attorney’s Office has over fifty-five thousand documents and roughly one thousand recorded phone conversations that establish our case.”
And that would be the sound bite every one of those reporters would take out of this arraignment.
Because Cade knew how to play this game, too.
A low murmur rippled through the crowd at this revelation. Clearly unsettled by the news of the impending avalanche of evidence Cade soon would be dropping on them, the defense attorneys all fell silent for a moment. One of them, Torino’s lawyer, literally broke out in a sweat.
Then four of them hightailed their high-powered asses up to the podium to request that their clients’ cases be severed from the senator’s.
And so it begins, Cade thought as the judge set a date for the lawyers to present their arguments for separate trials. It was only their first court appearance, and the four codefendants were already distancing themselves from Senator Sanderson. Given the substantial evidence, it was only a question of if, not when, their lawyers called him to discuss a possible plea.
After the hearing, he left the courtroom feeling satisfied that his case was off to a good start. He checked his watch. Three o’clock. Time for a coffee run. At the elevators, he nearly pushed the up button, thinking he’d make a pit stop at the office to see if Rylann, one of the other AUSAs in the special prosecutions group, wanted to join him—and then remembered that she was in trial this week.
Cade headed downstairs solo and cut through the lobby, past the metal detectors and the security guards. Once outside, he’d gone about a block when his cell phone rang. He pulled the phone out of the inside pocket of his suit coat and checked the caller ID.
Brooke Parker.
A slow smile spread across his face.
A jackhammer pounded away on the opposite side of the street, so Cade stepped into a Mrs. Fields cookie shop to get away from the noise.
He answered the phone. “Ms. Parker. What a pleasant surprise.”
A throaty feminine voice. “I knew it was a corruption case.”
