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"Keller." Rodney called out. "Keller!" he repeated. Then, when no one appeared, nor replied, he shouted louder: "Keller! Woman, where the hell are you?"
What was the point of having an assistant in the first place if she were never where you needed her?, Rodney wondered, getting up from his desk. Clearly next time he hired an assistant he wouldn't just trust Beckett's opinion on them. Or the university where they'd gotten their degree.
Huffing and already too irritated, he peered out of his office door, finding that at least his secretary was working at her own desk.
"Have you seen Keller?" Rodney demanded.
Heightmeyer gave him an unimpressed look and kept on typing.
"Not since you sent her searching every possible case about illegal immigration in the past five years."
"Oh, right. But I need that document about the Coleman case."
"It's on your desk, Rodney."
"No, it isn't. And it's Dr-"
"Yes, it is." Heightmeyer interrupted him firmly. Rodney glared at her, but relented. In the two years since Rodney had opened his law practice, Heightmeyer had always been aprofessional and a good secretary to a fault. If she said the document was on his desk, he probably had moved it without noticing.
Without a word, he turned back the way he'd come.
"Tell Keller to come into my office if you see her."
Heightmeyer just hummed and kept on typing.
***
"The conviction is inevitable at this point." Radek muttered, shaking his head. Rodney watched his friend in silence, hands steepled in front of him. There was nothing to say, really. He had told Radek he would lose the case the moment the police set their suspicions on his client.
"It's just so frustrating, you know?" his friend and law partner went on. "I'm sure he is innocent, but it does not matter!"
Rodney sighed.
"Radek..."
"Yes, yes, I know, I am a fool and you were right. I should not have thought that innocence would matter, because Mr Higgs is a black man and blah blah blah! Excuse-me, if I am still too naive, and not jaded like you!"
Rodney tried to reign in his own temper and breathed deeply.
"If I didn't believe we could make a difference, my friend, I wouldn't left my brilliant and promising carrier in prosecuting and opened this practice with you in the first place!" Rodney pointed out. he flushed when Radek raised an eyebrow at him. "Now, we better find a way to make the judge invalidate that extorted confession, or-"
"They won't. You know how it is-"
"Radek." Rodney almost shouted. "The confession was extorted. We know how the police work, but I didn't graduate summa cum laude just to give up at the first problem. This case could be our break-through!"
Radek seemed dubious but nodded.
"Okay," said Rodney, "then what do you think about-"
***
"Rodney, there's a gentleman who wants to see you." Heightmeyer announced, after opening the door. Rodney glanced up. The woman appeared flustered. He frowned.
"I don't have appointments this afternoon." he said, absolutely certain. Keller had finally brought him the relevant research for the Coleman case and Rodney had decided to devote his entire afternoon to look it over. He was very far from trusting the research done by that woman.
"True-"
"Then tell him to set up an appointment, I don't have the time now."
"You'll want to meet him, believe me."
Rodney raised an eyebrow, and Heightmeyer scowled at him.
"Believe me." she repeated.
Rodney sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"Fine, fine, let him in then!"
Heightmeyer nodded, looking entirely too satisfied, and opened the door more widely, gesturing at someone behind her to come forward.
Rodney looked on in curiosity, but when the mysterious gentleman finally entered in his office, he understood why his secretary had been so adamant that he meet the man immediately. Standing in front of Rodney's desk, looking down at him like he wasn't impressed in the least by what he was seeing, was Patrick Sheppard, the owner of Sheppard Industries, the biggest industrial company on the East side of the country.
He was finely dressed and his presence didn't match at all the air in Rodney's office. Rodney wasn't in the least intimidated by the man, but he wondered why the hell Sheppard was in his office especially with all the more widely known and established law practices that peppered Boston.
Well, he might not know what the man was doing in his office, but Rodney knew an opportunity when he saw one and if Sheppard was there for a case that suited Rodney's practice, Rodney knew without any uncertainty that this could be the case that would change forever his and Radek's career.
So he stood up and offered his hand to the man.
"Dr Sheppard, what can I do for you?"
The man had piercing gray eyes that went a bit hard at Rodney's choice of words, but gamely shook his hand. When Rodney gestured at one of the chairs in front of his desk, Sheppard sat down.
"Mr McKay, I'm here on behalf on my youngest son."
Rodney didn't say anything, he just nodded.
"And what can I do for your son?"
Rodney knew that Sheppard had two sons, both of them working in the family company, and both married. But beyond that the Sheppard family had been very careful not to appear too much on the society page and there wasn't much on the family. As far as Rodney knew, the Sheppard in front of him was the face of his corporation and neither one of his sons appeared regularly in the papers.
Something about the man, now that was in front of him, felt familiar to Rodney, like he reminded him of someone, but Rodney couldn't place it.
"I did a small research on your practice before coming here," Sheppard began. "You haven't taken many murder cases."
Rodney relaxed in his chair and looked at Sheppard dead on.
"Radek and I are very picky with our clients. We don't accept every case brought to us."
"You have opened up just two years ago. Don't you think it's a risk?" Sheppard inquired politely.
"We wanted to have a certain standard in the kind of people we are representing. Once you have a certain kind of reputation, there is no going back."
Sheppard nodded, a faint smile on his lips.
"I understand. That is what my son told me as well."
"And did he tell you we only accept clients we believe innocent?"
Sheppard nodded and Rodney wondered how the son of a magnate had learned of his little practice existence in the first place. But there were more pressing matters to be concerned about at the moment.
"Why does your son need a defense attorney, Dr Sheppard?"
Sheppard's expression closed off.
"His wife was found murdered two days ago. My son is the prime suspect."
Rodney nodded.
"And why should I take up his defense?"
Sheppard bristled.
"My son is innocent, Mr McKay. I'm certain you will arrive at the same conclusion once you've met him."
***
John Sheppard was being held for questioning by the police. Rodney had accepted to meet the man because he was insanely curious, to be honest.
Of all the attorneys in Boston, why him? The Sheppard must have a plethora of attorneys and lawyers at their disposal, so why him? Why?
On their way to the station, riding in the Sheppard Industries limousine, Sheppard Senior had told Rodney that John and his wife had a rocky marriage, doomed since the beginning. They lived in town and their neighbors had known of their frequent arguments. Mrs Sheppard had been found brutally murdered in their bed, with no signs of someone breaking in and once John had told the police he had been out that night, but refused to tell where, the police had focused on him, of course. Especially once it was found out that the lovely Mrs Sheppard had a lover.
When Rodney had probed about John's alibi, Sheppard had just told him he believed his son, without doubts.
Rodney was dubious, but had agreed not to refuse the case until after meeting the man.
And here they were now, being led by a young police officer, to the room where John was being temporarily held for questioning.
When the door opened and Rodney stepped through, green eyes looked up at him and with a somersault Rodney understood why John Sheppard had been certain that an attorney known for taking the cases only of people who he believed were innocent would take his case.
Rodney knew John Sheppard. He knew the contours of his face, the expanse and paleness of his chest, the strength of his arms, the firmness of his body. They met at different intervals three or fourth times every month, in a friendly bar and spent the night together. They had never exchanged names or profession, it was safer that way, but evidently Sheppard must have found out about him.
And Rodney knew John Sheppard was innocent, because three nights ago, when his wife had been murdered, John Sheppard had been balls deep in Rodney and had fucked him all through the night.
Clearly, not an alibi Sheppard could tell the police. Trading a life sentence for murder for one for sodomy wasn't a good strategy.
Sheppard gave him a small smile and a wave. Rodney glared at him and, sighing, sat in front of his new client. For a moment he wondered if Sheppard Senior knew what his son had been doing the night of the murder, if that was why he was so sure of his son's innocence, then decided to dismiss the thought. It wasn't relevant to the case after all.
"Mr Sheppard." Rodney started pointedly, opening his briefcase and taking out pen and paper. "I am accepting your case. Now start by telling me about your wife and who wanted her dead."