3. Callisto
Chapter three
Callisto
The defendant’s lawyer smirks at me before turning back to the judge. “Your Honor, throw this case out. The plaintiff has no compelling evidence, and at this point they’re just wasting court resources.”
I clench my hand on my knee under the table. I cannot lose this case and tarnish my ninety-win streak. Not when I’m so close to achieving my goal.
The problem is, at this point the case is a sinking ship.
Of course the evidence is sparse; his client buried me in so many discovery files it’d take two years to sort through it all. The plaintiff beside me, Ms Felton, turns ashen, her eyes shining with the first hint of tears. Waterworks are the last thing we need in court.
The judge laces his hands together and stares at me across the parquetry floor. “The defense has a point, Counselor. Do you have any other evidence to support your claims?”
My eyes dart around the room, taking in the smug looks of the defending lawyers. My case is going down in flames, but my instincts are screaming I’ve missed something. “Your Honor, may I have a moment with my client?”
He nods. “Court adjourned for a fifteen-minute break.”
I hustle Ms Felton into the side room, my mind running in all directions.
The middle-aged beta slumps against a side table. “We’re going down in a blaze of glory, aren’t we?” She sighs and shakes her head. “I told you Velos are too tough to crack. I wanted to see them get torn to shreds for firing me, but now I’m the one who looks like I’m crying wolf.” She drops her head into her sweaty palms.
“It’s not over yet.” I lean my fist on the glass and stare at the busy street outside. I have to solve this within fifteen minutes, or my hard-earned win streak goes down the professional gurgler. And my career prospects with it.
I grit my teeth. “You never had a complaint or disciplinary action recorded on your file in eight years of working there?”
“No, nothing.” She grips the edge of the table. “I was employee of the month about eight times and had two performance bonuses.”
Velos Corp fired a top-notch administrator because she brought concerns about illegal haze running through the company, and now they’ve lawyered up and claimed they dismissed her for negligence after private customer data got leaked from her workstation.
I’ve been over everything in the case for weeks, but the defense shot down my best angle when my key witness, the Human Resources assistant, just fumbled her story and made herself an unreliable witness.
The only way this makes sense is if Velos has something to hide.
“So, how did they pin the data leak on you?” I muse to myself, closing my eyes. My boss is watching this case closely, and I need to shine if I want that partner plaque.
Ms Felton sighs and drops into the closest chair. “I had my computer open for the IT guy to help me with a glitching program. When he finished, I left it unlocked while I went to get a coffee in the back room. I thought no one else was in the office, and—” From the corner of my eye I see her throw her hands up in frustration.
Through the window, I track the path of a man wearing stylish glasses and a suit on the footpath. One corner of his shirt hangs untucked. A thought strikes me, and I swing back to face my client. “The IT guy.” I’ve searched his files with a fine-tooth comb, and nothing came up.
My client shakes her head. “I sat with him the whole time he was at my desk so I could learn how to debug the program. He left before I did.” She scoffs. “He smelled good.”
I narrow my gaze on her. I’m missing something, but what? “What made you think about his scent?”
She shrugs. “The office smelled like eucalyptus, I guess.”
I click my fingers, trying to tease out the buzzing thoughts swirling in my brain. “Walk me through this. The IT guy came to help you with the missing printer connection. He fixed it, you left, then what?”
“The drivers were still installing so I went to the break room.”
“And got a coffee?”
“No, the floor was wet, so I went to the vending machine in the hall.”
“The floor was wet?” I straighten. “As in, it’d been mopped?”
She nods. “There was a slip hazard sign up too.”
Dammit. How could I have been so stupid? I hold up a finger to stall her, already dialing my paralegal. The line clicks on. “Hale, it’s me. Pull up the staff file for the cleaner on Ms Felton’s floor. The IT guy was the red herring.”
“Do we have a name?”
I point at Ms Felton. “Name?”
“Clark Saunders,” she supplies, eyes widening.
I check Hale heard, then add, “Tell me how many performance bonuses the guy got. I’ll stay on the line.”
“On it.”
Cardboard scuffles and paper rustles. The fact he can find the right box quickly is a testament to how good he is at his job. I’ll definitely keep indulging his requests for interns to shift the case files in and out of his office annex in the future.
Ms Felton presses her fingertips to her lips. “But aren’t we too late for that? Clark already testified.”
I shake my head. “I can get any staff member from the floor to the stand. I just need a reason.” I hiss at my foolishness. They put him on the stand to testify that no maintenance issues occurred in the building, and I didn’t dig too deeply because I thought they’d be trying to hide whoever was involved.
Hale hums down the phone line. “Okay, I have the file. It’s pretty thick. I can see twelve, no, fourteen bonuses here. Could be more.”
My heart pulses with a rush of adrenaline as I catch the scent of my prey. “How long was he employed?”
“Four years.”
I whistle.
My client chokes. “One per quarter? That’s outrageous. He’s not even part of the client teams.”
I smirk and lift the phone. “And they really left this in discovery?”
“In tiny print,” Hale confirms. “Not in the staff files, but in a generic document from the accounts team. Everyone divided into batches.”
I grunt. Somebody screwed up big time. Or thought I couldn’t possibly find it among all the boxes they sent. But they don’t know how fast my paralegal can read. “Send the list of dates and amounts to the courthouse within five minutes.”
“Will do. Oh, and I’m sending another little present with it you might like.”
I push away from the window, knowing that whatever it is, Hale has my back. “Ms Felton, I’m going to need you to tell me everything you can about working with this cleaner, including what’s normally on his cleaning cart.”
She nods and straightens her shoulders. By the time the runner brings me my printout, I’m vibrating with excitement, and the energy doubles as I see the gift Hale sent over.
Ms Felton shrinks back. “You’re alpha-ing up.”
“Sorry, ma’am. I am an alpha after all, and it’s hard to control.” Sure, my scent leaks a little when I’m excited, but the truth is the faintest touch of alpha presence does wonders in the courtroom, so I’m not trying to hold back.
Judge Harmon narrows his eyes at me as we reconvene. “Well, Counselor?”
“I’d like to recall Clark Saunders, the cleaner on Ms Felton’s floor, to the stand, Your Honor.”
“Objection!” the opposing counsel calls. “He’s already testified.” The smug looks on their faces evaporate, replaced with concern.
“I have additional evidence,” I assure the judge, and he nods.
“I’ll allow it.”
I press my lips together to hide my grin. Bet the opposing counsel are regretting pushing for a bench trial now. I swear Judge Harmon has a soft spot for me, because he knows I’m good at what I do. I’d never have risen through the ranks at the Laversham branch of Harkman and Laurance Legal otherwise. If I work hard enough this year, I’m sure I can make partner. And one day I’ll also get my name up on our building. Harkman, Laurance, and Wren Legal sounds pretty good.
Clark Saunders gets up in the box, already sweating through his lanky brown hair. He removes his glasses to wipe his eyes on his sleeve. I don’t even have to get close to make him feel pressured.
“Would you say you’re good at your job, Mr Saunders?”
“I’m proficient,” he mutters, looking down.
“And what does your job entail?”
He rubs his nose, glancing at the Velos Corp acting director hiding between his two lawyers. “I clean the building and manage trash and minor repairs. I also oversee two other cleaners on the floor.”
“And do you interact with customers, or answer the phones?”
“No.”
“Answering and sending emails? Special software for, I don’t know, cleaning logs?”
His brow furrows. “Only what’s required for managing the maintenance queue or reporting on cleaning our activities. Our logs get done on paper.”
I flash him my most disarming smile. “I see, thank you. So would it be accurate to say you’re proficient at your job but have little interaction with either customers or the other staff, and you don’t have tasks requiring computer use?”
He nods, and the judge reminds him to answer out loud. “Yes, I guess so.”
Better and better. I swivel my body enough to see the opposing counsel squirm. “Mr Saunders, please tell the court your professional Information Technology qualifications.”
His gaze drops. “I don’t have any IT qualifications.”
“Oh?” I feign surprise and drop a piece of paper on his desk. “Could you please tell the court what this is?”
“Obj—!”
I cut off the outraged lawyers as I pass the judge a second copy. “It was in discovery, Your Honor. No new material here.”
He waves his hand. “Overruled. Continue.”
The witness scans the convoluted spreadsheet. “I think it’s a record of Velos staff training for the year to date.”
I press him further. “Which staff?”
“Me.”
“And what training does it list in the expense details?”
Clark reads again, and I see the cornered beast in his gaze when he lifts his head. “Information Technology. But I never finished the diploma.”
“Ah, you never finished. But you attended this course, yes? These payments are installments for all of last year.” I flip the page over in front of him. “Oh, and look at that, the previous year as well, but for different amounts. A certificate and then a diploma, was it?”
He grinds out a yes, before asserting he didn’t complete any qualification and only attended part of the training. And when I ask, he says he didn’t take part in any other work-related training.
I straighten my tie and take a moment to let the judge soak in his answers. “All right, so Velos Corp paid for you to undertake IT certificates, which you attended for two or more years but never completed, for a job which requires no computer use except for the most basic of tasks?”
The witness pales, his gaze darting around the room as if searching for an exit. “Yes.”
I switch tacks. “And how many times have you been employee of the month?” I ask.
“None.”
“Hm.” I don’t give him a minute to think as I grill him, not only about his own work performance, but his take on my client, and how clean her office area was compared to other clients in the building. I load my ammunition piece by piece, and then pull the trigger.
“And how much did you get paid for leaking client information via Ms Felton’s computer?”
“Three—” His body spasms, and he tries to claw the words back, fear widening his eyes. “I mean—”
“Objection! He’s leading the witness!” the opposing counsel screeches.
I round on the startled witness. “You said you’re only proficient at your job, Mr Saunders, don’t interact with staff or clients, and have never received a staff member of the month nomination, not to mention you failed to pass the training Velos paid for, so how on earth did you earn fourteen bonuses in four years?”
He stiffens, arms clamping in against his sides.
“Do tell us what these performance bonuses are for, because from where I’m sitting, no plausible reason exists for you to have received them unless you were doing Velos’ dirty work. On God’s name, Mr Saunders, because you are under oath.”
The cleaner clams up, mouth setting rigidly.
I smirk. “Your Honor, according to the cleaning logs, Clark Saunders was on my client’s floor during the same hour data leaked from her account. He admits to being average at his job and he’s had less than eighteen months of professional education, and yet he receives a performance bonus equating to once every three to five months.”
The paper rustles as I hold out the cleaning log and the judge waves me forward to present it. “Meanwhile, my client, an experienced and well-educated administrator, received two bonuses during her entire period of employment. Two, in eight years. Which, according to our assessment of employees so far in the discovery file, is above average.”
I turn back to the wilting employee. “It was very calculated of you to never get the certifications for your IT training, because then it would be listed on your employee file.”
His glare’s more acidic than a lemon as I turn back to the judge. “Now, I posit it’s a simple matter for a cleaner with full access to the floor and IT knowledge equivalent to the junior IT workers in the building to set a data leak in motion while Ms Felton went to the break room, which had a freshly mopped floor thanks to Mr Saunders’ presence.”
Nothing sounds sweeter in my ears than the furious whispering of the opposing counsel as they realize they’re backed into a corner. The two lawyers glare at me as I return to my side of the room. Heads will roll, and my win streak will go to ninety-one.
I lean over the table and whisper to my client. “This one’s all yours.” The grateful look she throws me is worth all the long work hours I put in, not only in this case, but my career. I promised my father I’d make something of myself, and here I am, climbing the ladder with my bare hands.
It takes another few hours of deliberations and witnesses, but since the first domino has fallen, the rest eventually follow as we pin the trail back to the company.
I fold my arms, satisfaction welling up inside as Judge Harmon presses his lips together. He bangs his gavel, the rapping sound piercing the whispering courtroom. “We have a verdict. I find the defendant, Velos Corp, guilty of unlawful dismissal. We proceed to sentencing.”
Once it’s done and Ms Felton has a payout that will set her up for life, I flash the bastards at the opposite desk a smug nod as I escort her out. The long-running professional feud between my firm and theirs just racked up another point in our favor.
I see Ms Felton off with a warm handshake and pull out my phone, ignoring a bunch of missed calls in favor of dialing Hale. “Damn, you’re good,” I crow when he answers, unable to hide my grin.
“I know,” he answers calmly. “Bring Alpha Fried Chicken for dinner; we need to go over the details for your next case, and a new one just came in.”
I laugh. “All right.” Business as usual. “No rest for the ambitious.”
Hale hums, his deceptively gentle voice ringing down the line. “Oh, your mother called the office four times this week. Could you contact her so she stops wasting the receptionist’s time?”
“Sure thing.” Dammit, that must be the source of all my missed calls. I hold my hand out for a cab, dialing Mom’s number as I wait on the curb.
“Callisto, nice to finally hear from you,” Mom says dryly as she picks up. “Was starting to think I needed to put out a missing person’s report.”
A cab pulls up and I climb in and give the legal firm’s address to the driver. “Don’t be dramatic, Mom. I’ve been in court all week.” As she already knows.
“You’re always in court. I think you’ve forgotten how to live a real life.”
I shake my head, smiling fondly as I watch the busy streets slip by. “This is my life, Mom.”
She huffs out a breath. “I know, but listen to me, son. I just can’t rest well when you’re so fixated on a single future. Have you lodged your scent sample with the Omega Center yet? When will I get grandchildren? I don’t want to see you walk down the same path as your father, sacrificing family for—”
I cut her off as kindly as I can, before she works herself up anymore. “Is this what your therapist’s been telling you, Mom? Have you ever considered she’s just preying off your condition? Go to a self-help club at the Omega Center instead.”
All this bullshit about anxiety, when she could just shake it off instead of dwelling on the negatives and working herself into a frenzy. Sure-fire way to get anxiety is to worry about being worried. When you’ve got a problem, hard work is the way to fix it.
The line goes quiet, and I press my fingers to my forehead. Even if she’s exaggerating, I need to be patient. This woman changed my diapers, after all. “Look, Mom—”
“How’s Rickon? I haven’t heard from him lately.”
Her change of subject catches me off guard, but it’s better than talking about this junk. “He’s having a few issues with his client, but he’s doing fine.” Well, he was a week ago when I last caught up with my best friend in person.
“I never liked that actress.” Mom sighs down the line. “She does shitty sex scenes.”
I groan. “Thanks for the visual, Mom.”
She chuckles thinly. “Say hello when you see him next. I miss that kid.”
“Because he’s the favorite son you never had?” I joke, and she laughs with me.
A wistful tone softens her voice as she says, “Okay, well, I love you. Just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sure you’re busy so I’ll let you go.”
My car pulls up to the curb in front of the glistening Harkman and Laurance Legal branch office. “Mom, about the anxiety—”
She clicks her tongue. “Don’t worry about it, Callisto. Like you said, I can try harder.” Her tone brightens. “Love you, son.”
I’d call out for her to wait so I can apologize, but the driver’s turning around to glare at me. “Love you too,” I murmur before hanging up and thumbing open my Alpha Cash app. “Geez, settle down,” I huff as I tap my phone to his and slide across the seat to get out.
When I climb out and shut the door, he pulls out sharply in front of traffic, obviously with somewhere to be. Probably going home, like normal people at this time of day.
I stare up at the tall building, reflecting the first signs of sunset in the glass facade, where I’ll hole up in cases for the next five hours before I even think of closing up for the night. All a man needs is a good job, respect, and a best friend, right? I’ll think about a pack later, once I’ve established myself. I just don’t have time for an omega right now.
But it wouldn’t hurt to see how Rickon’s doing, and I’m sure he’ll want to celebrate the win I had today. I swipe into my favorite contacts and bring up his name. Lucky he’s a night owl.