over the swearing.
“Lunch, thanks,” Finn replied. “Why, did you miss us?”
“Always.” She fluttered her eyes in flirtatious ridicule. Kozlowski nodded to her and headed back to his office to hang up his coat, closing the door behind him.
“Problem with your contact lenses again?” Finn asked.
“Just trying to be demure,” she replied.
“Try harder, I’m spoken for.”
“Wonder Woman down in D.C., right? Good for you; that seems to be going really fucking well—eight months and I haven’t even met her.”
Finn’s gut clenched, and he hid his gaze in the mail on his desk. “I’m spoken for, all the same.”
“Like I said, good for you. It’s awfully egotistical of you to assume I’d bat my eyes at you in the first place. You’re not my type.”
Finn looked up from his mail. He pointed his finger at himself, then tilted his head and turned his finger around so that it was aimed at the door leading to Kozlowski’s office. “No way,” Finn said. “You’re kidding, right?”
She shrugged. “Some girls like older men.”
“Yeah, but he’s not a man. He’s some sort of prehistoric creature the police thawed out of a glacier in the Arctic Circle a few decades ago and brought back to life to fight bad guys in Boston.”
“Stop it, you’re just turning me on. Besides, scars are sexy.”
“Don’t get me wrong, he’s the closest thing I’ve got to a friend at this point, and I’d take a bullet for him if I thought bullets would actually hurt him. But Tom Kozlowski and romance? We’re not exactly talking about chocolate and peanut butter.”
“Whatever,” Lissa said, turning to her desk, picking up a stack of papers, and dropping them on Finn’s desk. “Here’s the research you wanted.”
“Already done? That was fast.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “You expected less?” She turned and walked back to her desk, then swung around again. “Are you really gonna take this guy on as a client? Do you have any idea how hard it is to set aside a jury conviction in a criminal case?”
“Not really. That’s why I wanted you to do the research.”
“And I did. It’s really fucking hard. You have to show manifest injustice. Do you know how fucking hard it is to show manifest injustice?”
“Really fucking hard?”
Kozlowski reemerged from his office. Lissa looked at him. “You agree with what the boss is doing?”
“He’s not my boss,” Kozlowski replied.
“Fine,” she said. “Who am I to complain? I’m guessing I’m the most liberal person in the room by a pretty wide margin. I just wouldn’t have pegged you two to be the type to tilt at windmills.”
Finn looked at Lissa, then at Kozlowski, and then back at Lissa. He raised one eyebrow. “I guess we’re all full of surprises today.”
“Fuck off,” Lissa said.
“That’s all I’m saying,” Finn said.
“Jesus fucking H. Christ, that’s all I’m saying.”
Finn went back to flipping through his mail. “You should be a little more careful, taking the name of someone else’s lord in vain. God forbid I was Muslim. How’d you like it if I started taking Moses’ name in vain?”
“Moses is Old Testament and, technically speaking, belongs to both of us, so you’d probably be okay.”
Finn tore open a letter. “Barbra Streisand, then?”
“Bite your fucking tongue.”
“See what I mean?”
“Fine. You should just understand you’ve got an uphill battle. Like Everest kind of uphill. I’ve looked through every case Cavanaugh has been asked to reopen. He’s ruled on twelve of these motions in other cases. Guess how many times he’s let in additional evidence.”
“I don’t want to know, do I?”
“That’s right. Zero. Never.”
“Good thing thirteen’s my lucky number.”
“It’d better be.” She grabbed her purse. “I’m going to get something to eat. Some of us didn’t get a long, leisurely lunch today. I’ll be back . . . if you’re lucky.”
The door banged behind
“Lunch, thanks,” Finn replied. “Why, did you miss us?”
“Always.” She fluttered her eyes in flirtatious ridicule. Kozlowski nodded to her and headed back to his office to hang up his coat, closing the door behind him.
“Problem with your contact lenses again?” Finn asked.
“Just trying to be demure,” she replied.
“Try harder, I’m spoken for.”
“Wonder Woman down in D.C., right? Good for you; that seems to be going really fucking well—eight months and I haven’t even met her.”
Finn’s gut clenched, and he hid his gaze in the mail on his desk. “I’m spoken for, all the same.”
“Like I said, good for you. It’s awfully egotistical of you to assume I’d bat my eyes at you in the first place. You’re not my type.”
Finn looked up from his mail. He pointed his finger at himself, then tilted his head and turned his finger around so that it was aimed at the door leading to Kozlowski’s office. “No way,” Finn said. “You’re kidding, right?”
She shrugged. “Some girls like older men.”
“Yeah, but he’s not a man. He’s some sort of prehistoric creature the police thawed out of a glacier in the Arctic Circle a few decades ago and brought back to life to fight bad guys in Boston.”
“Stop it, you’re just turning me on. Besides, scars are sexy.”
“Don’t get me wrong, he’s the closest thing I’ve got to a friend at this point, and I’d take a bullet for him if I thought bullets would actually hurt him. But Tom Kozlowski and romance? We’re not exactly talking about chocolate and peanut butter.”
“Whatever,” Lissa said, turning to her desk, picking up a stack of papers, and dropping them on Finn’s desk. “Here’s the research you wanted.”
“Already done? That was fast.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “You expected less?” She turned and walked back to her desk, then swung around again. “Are you really gonna take this guy on as a client? Do you have any idea how hard it is to set aside a jury conviction in a criminal case?”
“Not really. That’s why I wanted you to do the research.”
“And I did. It’s really fucking hard. You have to show manifest injustice. Do you know how fucking hard it is to show manifest injustice?”
“Really fucking hard?”
Kozlowski reemerged from his office. Lissa looked at him. “You agree with what the boss is doing?”
“He’s not my boss,” Kozlowski replied.
“Fine,” she said. “Who am I to complain? I’m guessing I’m the most liberal person in the room by a pretty wide margin. I just wouldn’t have pegged you two to be the type to tilt at windmills.”
Finn looked at Lissa, then at Kozlowski, and then back at Lissa. He raised one eyebrow. “I guess we’re all full of surprises today.”
“Fuck off,” Lissa said.
“That’s all I’m saying,” Finn said.
“Jesus fucking H. Christ, that’s all I’m saying.”
Finn went back to flipping through his mail. “You should be a little more careful, taking the name of someone else’s lord in vain. God forbid I was Muslim. How’d you like it if I started taking Moses’ name in vain?”
“Moses is Old Testament and, technically speaking, belongs to both of us, so you’d probably be okay.”
Finn tore open a letter. “Barbra Streisand, then?”
“Bite your fucking tongue.”
“See what I mean?”
“Fine. You should just understand you’ve got an uphill battle. Like Everest kind of uphill. I’ve looked through every case Cavanaugh has been asked to reopen. He’s ruled on twelve of these motions in other cases. Guess how many times he’s let in additional evidence.”
“I don’t want to know, do I?”
“That’s right. Zero. Never.”
“Good thing thirteen’s my lucky number.”
“It’d better be.” She grabbed her purse. “I’m going to get something to eat. Some of us didn’t get a long, leisurely lunch today. I’ll be back . . . if you’re lucky.”
The door banged behind
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