Page 97 of Hard Heart

And Levi was in prison and counting on me.

I’d have to say yes.

What did the short notice mean? Did Greyson simply have an open calendar slot to fill, or did he understand the true importance of this meeting? He must have seen the news, right? He must know another woman was dead.

This was what I’d daydreamed of in law school—fighting for justice, whatever the cost. No matter how many extra royalty percentage points I might have negotiated for a minor celeb, nothing could compare with the anticipation of getting an innocent man out of jail, even if I was terrified of the whole process.

I’d do it.

I’d do it for Levi.

And also for myself.

CHAPTER 29

SERAFINA

“You’re wearing a hole in the carpet, and we don’t have the budget to replace it.”

Raelene was sitting at the boardroom table, typing as I paced. Ten minutes until Greyson Meyer was due to arrive, and I was worried my antiperspirant just couldn’t hack it.

“Sorry. How can you stay so calm?”

“He’s a congressman, Sera. He’s not a Mob boss.”

We had two goals for today—find out whether Greyson had ever harboured suspicions about Justin, and see if he’d be willing to help us get a copy of the Blackstone House surveillance tapes. I’d also prepared a briefing on the Justice Project, just so he wouldn’t think I was a total liar.

When I’d updated Levi yesterday, he’d been predictably horrified about the body. I’d felt him steel himself through the phone before he said, “At least I have an alibi for this one.”

“We’re meeting with Greyson Meyer tomorrow. Short notice, but I guess he had a free afternoon, and he’s coming to the office.”

“You sound nervous.”

“Honestly, I’m bricking it.”

Levi chuckled. “Whenever I was nervous about giving a presentation, August used to tell me to picture the audience naked.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t want to do that.”

“So how about if I tell you that in Blackstone House, Congressman Meyer wore pink unicorn boxer shorts.”

“Ohmigosh, are you serious?”

“Ruby gave them to him as a joke at Christmas, but he hated doing laundry, so he ran out of clean underwear. And then he discovered they were comfortable, and… Yeah. Pink unicorn boxers.”

I’d had my spiel all planned out—an appeal to Greyson’s conscience and a promise that I didn’t want to start a witch hunt, only get to the truth. Then, this morning, a bomb had detonated under the Carlson case when Justin got perp-walked out of his house in handcuffs. Would that help our cause? I hoped that by seeing Justin under arrest, Greyson might be more willing to understand our doubts over the Costello case.

Of course, being arrested wasn’t the same as being charged, and there was still a long ways to go. Plus I felt sorry for Justin’s girlfriend. Heidi said she was a celebrity chef who’d escaped one abusive asshole before falling headlong into the clutches of another.

A door slammed shut in the parking lot.

“Pink unicorn boxers, pink unicorn boxers,” I muttered to myself.

“What?” Raelene asked.

“Uh, nothing. I think he’s here.”

Another door slammed. Then another. Huh? I ran to the window and looked out. Two cars had pulled in by the front door, and people were climbing out of every door, it looked like. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven of them. What the hell? I recognised Greyson Meyer stony-faced in a suit, and was that Braxton Vale beside him? The shaggy-haired guy… That was Zach Torres, the surfer.