In Contempt

• Building the case

Chapter 3

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds of Lorraine Baxter's cramped apartment as she sat at her modest desk, pouring over a stack of documents. Her coffee had gone cold hours ago, but she didn't care. Sleep was a luxury she couldn't afford right now. The inconsistencies in the subway maintenance logs hinted at something much larger than negligence—it felt like a deliberate attempt to bury the truth.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost time to head to Pierre & Associates. Today, she'd be presenting her expanded findings to Rachel Fame and Aaron Pierre, and while she felt better prepared, the lingering pressure of their expectations sat heavy on her shoulders.
With a sigh, she gathered her notes and headed out the door, reminding herself that she didn't have time for self-doubt.

The office was already buzzing when Lorraine arrived. Associates darted between offices, their arms laden with briefs and files, while paralegals answered ringing phones with rapid efficiency. It was a living, breathing organism, and Lorraine felt both exhilarated and overwhelmed every time she stepped into it.

Rachel Fame's door was open when Lorraine approached, and she knocked lightly before stepping in.
"Good morning, Ms. Fame," she said, clutching her notebook.
Rachel looked up from her desk, her piercing gaze immediately zeroing in on Lorraine. "Do you have what I asked for?"
"Yes, ma'am," Lorraine said, handing over a carefully compiled summary of her findings.
Rachel scanned the document in silence, her expression giving nothing away. After a moment, she set it down and looked at Lorraine.

"This is good," she said. "You've found a pattern that could be critical to our case. But good isn't enough."
Lorraine nodded, swallowing her nerves. "I understand."
Rachel stood, smoothing out her blazer. "Come with me. Mr. Pierre is waiting."
The larger conference room was already occupied when they arrived. Aaron Pierre sat at the head of the table, a cup of black coffee in one hand and a legal brief in the other. His sharp features were set in a neutral expression, but his presence alone was enough to fill the room with tension.

"Ms. Fame," Aaron greeted, nodding briefly at Rachel before turning his attention to Lorraine. "Ms. Baxter."
"Mr. Pierre," Lorraine said, her voice steady.
"Let's hear it," Aaron said, motioning for her to begin.
Lorraine took a deep breath and launched into her presentation. She outlined the unresolved maintenance issues, the falsified records, and the broader implications of the transit authority's negligence. She also highlighted a key point she had uncovered late the previous night: an letter exchange between two mid-level employees at the transit authority, hinting at pressure from higher-ups to "resolve" the issues without formal repairs.

As she spoke, Aaron's sharp eyes stayed fixed on her, his expression unreadable. Rachel occasionally nodded, but neither partner interrupted. When Lorraine finished, the silence that followed was almost unbearable.
Finally, Aaron leaned forward, placing his coffee cup on the table. "You've uncovered a lot," he said, his voice measured. "But this letter isn't enough. We need to tie it directly to someone with decision-making power. Otherwise, it's circumstantial at best."
Lorraine nodded, already scribbling notes. "Understood. I'll dig deeper into the chain of command and see if I can connect it to someone higher up."

Aaron's gaze softened, just slightly. "Good. You're on the right track, Ms. Baxter. Don't lose momentum."
Rachel's lips twitched into what might have been a smile. "You've impressed him," she said as they left the room. "Don't get used to it. He's notoriously hard to please."
Lorraine allowed herself a small smile. She'd take the win.
Later that day, Lorraine found herself back in the law library, pouring over internal emails and organizational charts from the transit authority. The deeper she dug, the more convinced she became that someone at the executive level was involved in covering up the subway's maintenance issues. But proving it was another matter entirely.
As she flipped through yet another report, her phone buzzed on the table. It was Rochelle.
"Hey, sis," Lorraine said, keeping her voice low.
"You sound stressed," Rochelle said. "What's going on?"
Lorraine sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Just work. This case is huge, and I feel like I'm barely keeping my head above water."
"Lorraine, you've been like this since you were a kid," Rochelle said, her tone equal parts teasing and serious. "You put too much pressure on yourself. You're doing great. Just don't forget to take a breath every now and then."
Lorraine smiled, her sister's words soothing her frayed nerves. "Thanks, Rochelle. I needed that."
"Anytime," Rochelle said. "Now get back to saving the world—or at least your corner of it."
That evening, as the office quieted and most of the staff went home, Lorraine stayed behind. She'd found another email thread, this one directly implicating the deputy director of the transit authority. It wasn't a smoking gun, but it was close.