Page 16 of Legal Attraction

“Hey, it’s alright.” Rand held his hands out to indicate balance and then shook his head as the guy tripped again a few yards away. But when he turned to reach for his bag, it was gone. He whirled around, looking in all directions and saw no sign of the light tan suitcase for a moment, but then he caught movement, someone running far down the walkway and around the corner. In their hand, might have been his bag. He took off after them. It was the only hope he had.

People moved out of his way as he tore past them toward the corner where he’d last seen his bag. As soon as he rounded it, the same man was moving past the second corner. The guy wasn’t running anymore and Rand stretched his legs and lengthened his stride to move faster. He’d caught up enough that he saw the man’s next move this time. He ran down a flight of stairs into what looked like a service entrance.

“Hey! That’s my bag!”

The man turned and pulled a gun out of his pocket, pointing it at Rand. “Just back away. Get a new bag.”

Rand held up his hands. “I need the files. I don’t care about the bag.”

The guy shrugged and shot his gun in Rand’s direction.

He ducked, avoiding the bullet, and then took off running toward his bag.

But the service door shut behind the man he was pursuing all too quickly. When Rand tried it, the lock held firm. He punched it and then pulled up his phone dialing into the airport main phone line. “Hello I need to talk to security. My suitcase has been stolen.” When they finally connected him, he was sure the thief had left the whole airport. But he gave the best description he could and then basically gave up hope. It seemed like a pointed attack. The guy knew what he was doing. The first guy, tripping over his stuff. The second stealing his suitcase. But who would want a suitcase? A growing worry told him the guy was after Rand’s files.

He considered the case. A manufacturing company was being sued for one particular patent, a drill bit for an industrial diamond used in offshore oil drilling. And arguably, in the wrong hands, the information in that brief case could lose the case for his client. He’d better call it in and get his team working on counter arguments and strategies against his own research. He rubbed a hand along his forehead and then called his assistant.

The conversation and planning took the better part of a couple hours, and he was on his way to the office by the time he finished coordinating their new strategies. What a nightmare. The minute he stepped through the glass doors to his office, Gladys, the front receptionist grinned and handed him a stack of notes. “Here are all the calls that came through this morning. Your secretary should have your other correspondence on your desk.”

“What’s all this?”

“A lot of it has to do with your suitcase. There’s even a detective assigned to the case. Oh, and the FBI called.”

“Thanks and good morning to you.” He used his name badge to open the main door into the offices. The files contained the strategy for winning the case as well as confidential information regarding the precise mixture used in drill bit making. Was someone after this client? Did the opposing case want to win bad enough to break the law? He’d be in meetings all day because of it, starting with his own firm’s security team in about thirty minutes.

He stepped into his office and stopped short. A room full of dark suits and the security team all ready to go rattled him enough that he took a minute to paste on his blank face. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Rand. Why don’t you get settled for a minute and then have a seat. We’ll get these questions out of the way so we can all get our work done today.” Mr. Goldstein, their head partner, was usually busy, usually friendly enough, and almost always demanding. The man had shown very little interest in getting to know Rand, but had given him decent reviews all through his associate years. Rand could only assume he was in good standing as a partner.

As soon as he sat at his desk, a man Rand had never seen before turned on a recording device. “Tell us how you lost the Hansen file.”

Rand bristled immediately, but kept his tone professional, his details brief and accurate.

“You say he had a gun?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he shot it at me while I was in pursuit.”

“And what did you do after that?”

“I ducked and then continued chasing him.”

A woman interrupted. “You continued after him even though he was armed and shooting in your direction?”

“I did, yes.”

The room was quiet for a moment. And then they began asking him detailed questions about the case. He held up his hand. “I need to stop you here. The details about the client case are confidential, surely. For attorney’s eyes only.”

After only a moment, the man doing most of the asking turned off his recording device and then turned to Mr. Goldstein as if for direction.

Their head partner tapped his fingers together for a minute before lifting his eyes to Rand. “I assume your team is working on counter measures to prevent the most damage to the case.”

“We are. I welcome any assistance there, of course.”

Mr. Goldstein stood. “Well now, if I did your work for you, why would I need you at the firm?”

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