Silent Justice

Tuesday, 10:46 a.m.

ON THE WAY HOME from the McKinley house, Jake and A

When they arrived home, they went into the house to pick up the necessary equipment—a pair of binoculars each, along with a couple of Nikon digital cameras with zoom lenses. Jake dropped their only compact video camera into his shoulder bag with two bottles of water.

Their destination was downtown, and A

Someone as high-profile and in as much demand as Jeffrey McKinley wouldn’t be easy to get to. Jake called McKinley & Baker and was informed Mr. McKinley was in a meeting and would be unavailable the rest of the day. His helpful secretary offered to set up an appointment sometime next week. Jake declined politely. He didn’t need to visit the man anyway; he just wanted to determine his whereabouts.

He continued toward the heart of the city. Parking was limited, and he circled the block twice before finding a spot on the side street across from his destination. He got out of his vehicle, slung the bag onto his shoulder, and crossed the street.

McKinley & Baker was on the seventh floor of a high-rise office building, one of only a few that made up the small skyline. It wasn’t a large city, but it was growing steadily, the downtown core ever modernizing itself.

He strolled to the back of the building and approached the entrance to the underground parking lot. Vehicle access was granted to cardholders only, but he slipped by the gate into the brightly lit modern parking facility.

It didn’t take him long to find McKinley’s red Mercedes convertible, parked in a reserved spot on the main parking level near the exit doors leading to the lobby. He tried the lobby door. It was locked. He would either need a key or a keycard to gain access, but at least he knew McKinley was in the building.

He left the underground area by the way he’d come, walked out to Main Street, and approached the front of the towering structure. He strode through the revolving door and into the lobby of the luxurious building, lit by an iconic chandelier and pendant lamps that adorned the high ceiling.

A constant flow of drones crisscrossed each other’s paths across the Italian marble floor, scurrying to get their urgent business done. A few workers from the retail outlets that lined the sides of the massive lobby were on break, enjoying a snack or a cup of coffee on the hard stone benches by the tranquil fountain.

Jake sat on one of the deluxe armchairs at one side of the foyer. He had a perfect view of the doors leading to the underground parking. He pulled out his phone and did a quick search, bringing up numerous stories about the successful lawyer. Jake was able to find a clear picture of the man, clad in an Armani suit, shaking hands with the mayor.

More than handsome, McKinley had spectacular looks, warm, blue eyes, and a smile that could distract anyone. He often used that charm on the jury in court, and now it seemed he was using it on Willow Taft.

Jake gave A

“I’m sitting across the street from Willow Taft’s house,” A

“Probably out spending McKinley’s money,” Jake said. “With the kind of money he makes, he can easily afford to keep two women.”

“Give me a call if he leaves. And if she goes out again, I’ll follow her. Mrs. McKinley suspects they’re having a daily rendezvous, so I don’t want her to slip away.”

Jake hung up, yawned, and sank back into the chair. He was prepared for a long wait.

Two hours later, Jake almost wished they hadn’t taken this case. Another phone call to A

Then a few minutes later, the elevator doors dinged open and McKinley stepped out carrying a briefcase, heading for the parking area. Jake sat forward. Finally he would have some action. He was bored and stiff from sitting so long.

He sprang from his seat, hurried out the front door, and got to his car as McKinley turned from the lot, heading for Main. Jake jumped in and started the Firebird, spun it around, and followed.

He called A

McKinley was headed north, Jake not far behind, keeping a car between him and the object of his attention. The guy was headed in the right direction at least.

McKinley breezed through an orange light. Jake pulled up quickly as the car in front of him stopped. He peered through the windshield. McKinley would soon be out of sight.

When the light turned green, Jake touched the gas and spun around the car in front of him, breaking a couple of traffic laws in the process. But McKinley was nowhere to be seen. Either he was far ahead or he had turned off somewhere.

He called A

The engine of the Firebird roared as Jake took a left turn and touched the gas. Several turns later, he was on the quiet street where Willow Taft lived. He saw A

McKinley’s Mercedes eased down the street from the other direction. Jake slowed to a casual walk until he reached A

A

McKinley stepped out, a cell phone in his hand. He tucked it into his pocket, then took a quick look up and down the street as he removed his jacket. He tossed it into the backseat of the car, straightened his tie, brushed back his slick hair, and strode to the front door without another glance. Jake had a perfect view from where they sat, and the video camera continued to catch the scene.

McKinley rang the bell and stepped back, taking a vague glance around as he waited.

And then the door opened and Jake zoomed in.

Willow Taft stood in the doorway, dressed in a negligee, a smile on her attractive face. She reached out her arms and McKinley stepped into the foyer, then into her embrace, and she welcomed him with a passionate kiss. Willow reached over his shoulder and closed the door behind him.

“We got him,” A

“We sure did,” Jake said. “But it’s not hard and fast proof of infidelity and might not hold up in court. Any good lawyer, especially McKinley, would argue it’s only circumstantial. He could say he’s visiting a client.”

“We’re not in court,” A