Dara looked down on her desk. All of her tools for the party were laid out in front of her. That was her ritual, no matter how many events she planned. She held the clipboard in her hand and began to check everything off of her Tools of the Trade check sheet. Call it superstition or a touch of fear, but she never left without completing the task. The kit was complete with the exception of saltine crackers. Dara put in a call to the manager, and he assured her that their kitchen had plenty.
She gathered her things, took one last look in the mirror, and headed out to host a party she would never forget.
Vick Hunt didn’t move. He hated every law enforcement official that he couldn’t buy, especially the two with the warrant. If they wanted information on his clients, he wouldn’t make it easy for them, warrant or not. He pulled out his cell phone and punched in the numbers. His conversation was brief, barely ten words.
“You’ll understand if I want my lawyer present.” He smiled at them.
Chuck didn’t care who was present as long as they got what they came for.
“Well,” Danica stepped forward. “While you wait, show us to your computers. Now.”
“Ah,” Vick directed his attention to a small man descending the stairs. “I’d like you to meet my lawyer, Christian Paul.”
No introductions were needed. Christian Paul was known for his counsel of gangsters, drug lords, and any criminal with more than seven figures in the bank.
Danica was tired of working on Vick’s schedule. She motioned for the officers to begin the search, not bothering with her usual plea for them to keep the premises intact.