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first ring. “Hi, Connor. Thanks for dinner. I love this place!” He loved the silvery energy in her voice. It was the perfect complement to the champagne in his hand and the evening deepening around him.
“Where are you? Tell me about it.”
“I’m at Gary Danko. I’m sitting by the window and watching the fog coming in through the Golden Gate. I just ordered their tasting menu. I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“You’ll love it. I’m sitting on the patio at Wente. It’s an old school restaurant out where I grew up. It’s surrounded by hills covered by grapevines. The sun has already set and they’re starting to light the gas heaters, but the hilltops are still bright gold and green.” He wanted to add like your eyes , but stopped himself. They were friends and colleagues—and that was all. Anything more would cause him serious problems at work. Doyle & Brown had a draconian policy against personal involvement with clients. Even these dinners pushed the envelope.
“Sounds beautiful. What are you having?”
“Filet mignon with the house reserve cab. Oh, and I’ve got a glass of champagne in front of me now. Do you have yours?”
“Um, yeah.”
“Excellent, I’d like to propose a toast.” He lifted his glass. “To making the devil pay.”
“To making the devil pay.”
He took a sip and savored the crisp, not quite sweet taste. “Ahh. There’s nothing quite like taking down a bad guy, is there?”
“It’s not a bad way to make a living.”
“Oh, it’s a lot more than that, don’t you think? For every dollar we get paid, three or four dollars of stolen taxpayer money go back into state coffers. Plus, the companies that stole it get to have Max wash their dirty laundry—while they’re still wearing it.”
She laughed. “I’d love to see that sometime. Too bad I can never sit in on any of those meetings.”
“It is too bad. Just like it’s too bad that we can never have these victory dinners together.” He wondered whether he was trying to convince himself or her. He deepened his voice and imitated the narrator of the old Batman reruns he’d seen as a child. “But we must protect your secret identity at all costs.”
“That’s me: mild-mannered accounting temp in the eyes of the world. But I’m really Qui Tam Girl, fighter against fraud and injustice!”
He chuckled. “We joke about it, but it really is true. You are doing great things, and I’m proud to know you.”
“Thanks, and likewise. I couldn’t do it without you.”
“Yes, you could. Any decent lawyer could set up a shell company for you and tell you what evidence you need to build a good case. You’re the one who actually goes and gets it. You put it on the line every day by going into these companies undercover, finding the fraud, and never getting caught. Hey, I’m going to propose another toast.” He lifted his glass again. “To Qui Tam Girl.”
“And her crime-fighting partner, Lawyer Boy.”
“I’ll drink to that.” And he did.
“Cheers!”
He set down his glass. “We really do get to fight crime. I love that. I wish everyone took the law as seriously as we do. If you commit a crime, you should pay the price. Every. Single. Time. No excuses, no compromises.”
“Uh-huh. By the way, is that PI still tailing you?” she asked, referring to a detective who had been following Connor during a previous case.
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure he was working for Three C, and we settled with them six months ago. I still can’t believe they had someone going through my garbage. Good thing I shred Us magazine before I put it in the trash.”
She laughed. “It’s amazing what dirty contractors will do to figure out who I am. Who knows, maybe some lucky investigator is getting a free dinner at Wente right now, courtesy of Hiram Hamilton.”
“Maybe.” He saw his waiter approaching with a loaded tray. “Speaking of dinner, mine is arriving.”
“Mine too, so I’m going to let you go. It was good talking to