Читать книгу: «Spin Control», страница 2

“Your Honor?” The assistant district attorney, a petite brunette in a severe black suit, spoke for the first time, her tone guarded. “The People strongly feel that Agent Russo represents a flight risk.”

“A flight risk?” Suzannah rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding? Look at him. He’s too cocky to run.”

“That’s a novel defense,” Taylor muttered. “Care to throw in any traditional arguments, just for fun?”

Suzannah shrugged. “Obviously, Your Honor, the fact that he’s standing here right now shows that he intends to cooperate fully. I mean, he could have gotten away from these two clowns any time he wanted.” She grimaced in quick apology toward the defense attorneys, then continued. “It’s not like my client could get out of the country even if he wanted to. As an FBI agent, there has to be a file on him a mile thick. Prints, DNA, photos, and a list of all his relatives, friends—assuming he has any—and travel patterns.”

The prosecutor was shaking her head. “The fact that he’s a federal agent doesn’t lessen his flight risk, Your Honor, it contributes to it. You’ve seen his file. Working undercover—in disguise—is one of his specialties! In fact, he has made a career out of seducing and conning people.”

“He did all those things for his country,” Suzannah reminded her. “And this is the thanks he gets? Just because of one little…well, misunderstanding?”

“A second-degree misunderstanding,” the prosecutor retorted.

“Forgive the interruption, ladies, but could I get a word in here?” Judge Taylor fixed a stare in the prosecutor’s direction. “I can understand Ms. Ryder’s exuberance, because she’s obviously still giddy over her appellate triumph.” He paused as the audience laughed nervously, then he growled again. “From you, Ms. Armstrong, I expect better. In fact, I demand it. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” The brunette slunk backward until she was flush against the counsel table.

“Agent Russo?”

“Yes, sir?”

“This is your lucky day. Thanks to Ms. Ryder’s innovative arguments on your behalf, I’ve decided to place you in her custody.”

“Thanks, Your Honor.”

“Wait!” Suzannah shook her head frantically. “I never consented to that. My custody? I don’t even know what that means. I mean, I know what it means generally, but in this context—”

“It means you’re vouching for him,” the judge explained. “And I don’t need your consent. This is still my courtroom, is it not? Which means I’m in charge. And from now on you’re going to listen, not talk, while I walk you through this, step by baby step. Is that clear?”

She nodded.

“I want you to spend some time with your client today. Listen to his story. Evaluate its strengths and weaknesses. Consult with his former counsel as appropriate. Then come back here—all of you, Ms. Armstrong included—tomorrow morning. I’d like an update at that time.”

“And at that time, if it’s clear I can’t effectively represent Agent Russo—”

“My God, Ryder! Do you want me to hold you in contempt?” The judge snorted. “I’m starting to believe your claim that you’re incompetent.”

“Your Honor?” Justin interrupted. “I’m going to have to insist that you treat my attorney with respect.”

Oh, God… Suzannah stared down at her hands, silently warning him that he was only making things worse.

When Judge Taylor finally managed to respond, his voice was soft with anger. “In case you’re not clear on the rules, Agent Russo, you’re not supposed to talk unless I instruct you to. Ms. Ryder will do your talking for you from now on, and according to the Court of Appeal, she’s a legal genius. So be quiet and let her work her magic. Unless you’d prefer to represent yourself, because that can definitely be arranged.” His green eyes flashed. “What’s it going to be?”

“My client understands now, Your Honor,” Suzannah assured him, concerned that Justin was hopelessly prejudicing himself in Taylor’s eyes by his misguided hero routine. Didn’t the agent understand that this angry jurist was going to decide his fate on a murder charge? They didn’t dare alienate him more than they had already done.

So she added with a respectful smile, “Thank you for your patience, Your Honor.”

The judge exhaled slowly, eyeing each of them in turn. “We’re all clear, then? We’ll meet back here tomorrow for another round of fun and games? Fine. You’re dismissed. Bailiff? Next case, and make it snappy. We’re already running behind, thanks to Suzy the e-lawyer.”

She clenched her fists at her sides, forcing herself to give the judge one last humble smile before she turned and stalked past a wide-eyed Tony and down the aisle, bursting through the double doors to the hallway before the guard could open them for her. She knew she was being trailed by Justin and his former lawyers. She just hoped they had the good sense to keep their heads down and their mouths shut indefinitely.

But as soon as the doors had closed behind them Justin dared to address her. “Hey, Suzy! Wait up.”

She spun around and stuck her finger in his face. “Not a word. Not—one—word. Is that clear?”

“Ms. Ryder?”

She sent Justin’s former attorney her most frustrated glare. “That goes for you, too. All of you. Just be quiet and let me think.”

“But—”

“Do you have a freaking death wish?” she demanded. But it was clear the government lawyers weren’t going to back down, so she assured them soberly, “We’ve got a huge problem on our hands. That judge has it in for me, which means we can’t possibly get a fair shake from him. But we don’t dare piss him off any more either. At least not until I’m sure how to handle it. So give me a little time. And space. I’ll get in touch as soon as I figure a few things out.”

“We can help,” the attorney insisted.

“Really? Because so far you’ve been a big fat zero.” She pressed her fingers to her temples. “I’ve got to talk to my senior partner. Maybe he’ll have some ideas. And at least my secretary can start drafting up a fee agreement, because believe me, Russo, you’re gonna pay through the nose for this.”

“No problem,” Justin replied. “I’m just glad to have you on my team.”

“Cut the crap. I’m not in the mood to be conned. Or seduced. Those are your two specialties, right?”

“I have more than two,” he assured her with a playful smile.

She folded her arms across her chest to stop herself from reaching out and strangling him. Then she told the attorneys, “Give me a number where I can reach you later today. Will you be available?”

“Anytime, anyplace,” the dark-haired one assured her, handing her his card. “Good luck.”

“Yeah, good luck,” the blond man echoed. “Here’s my card, too. We’ll be waiting.”

When they had hurried away, Suzannah gave Justin a weary sigh. “Are you staying in a hotel?”

“Yeah, the Charlton. They’ve got a coffee bar in the lobby, if you want to meet there. Or if you want me to come to your office, that’s fine, too. Whatever you say.”

Suzannah hesitated, imagining the commotion if she showed up at her dignified law firm with a sexy, swaggering FBI agent when she was supposed to be on vacation. The women would be impressed. Her senior partner? Probably not so much. At least not without some well-executed preparation.

“The coffee bar sounds good. I’ll meet you there. Take a few minutes to gather up whatever you need to brief me. And to change out of your suit if you want.” She arched her eyebrow for emphasis. “If you’re smart, you’ll cooperate with me. If I’m lucky, you’ll run, and I’ll be off the hook.”

“I’m not a flight risk. Not just because I’m cocky,” he added with a wink, “but because I’m innocent.”

Biting back an expletive, she told him between gritted teeth, “Just do what I say, okay?”

“I need to tell you something first. Something important.”

“Fine. Make it quick.”

His smile warmed. “I’m honestly grateful to you for taking this on. I know it’s not how you wanted to spend your vacation, but I really need your help. Those two guys Justice found for me are probably fine lawyers, but they can’t possibly be one hundred percent on my side. That’s why I need you. So…thanks.”

She closed her eyes and sighed in exaggerated martyrdom. “Fine. You’re welcome. Whatever. Now let’s just go to the hotel so you can freaking brief me.”

“Sure, Suzy,” he said fondly. “Whatever you say. You’re the boss.”

“This is S-3. Please identify yourself.”

“Essie? It’s me. Got a minute?”

Spinner Kristie Hennessy smiled with relief at the sound of Justin’s voice. “I was hoping you’d call. How did things go in court today? Are you comfortable with the attorneys the government supplied? Director McGregor says they’re the best.”

“It went great, but not because of those stiffs. I hired a new lawyer this morning. That’s why I called. I was hoping you could check her out for me.”

“You hired her on the morning of your court appearance?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Luckily she’s a quick study. Her name’s Suzannah Ryder. Every bone in my body tells me she’s clean, but if you could run a check—”

“I’m on it.” Kristie’s fingers flew across her keyboard.

“I drew a hard-ass for a judge,” Justin was explaining, “so I figured I’d better call in reinforcements if I wanted to stay free pending trial. Suzy just won a big victory against this particular judge, so I figured she could come through for me. And she did.”

“Suzy?” Kristie grimaced. “I’m guessing she’s attractive?”

“Are you jealous?” he said, his tone teasing. Then he added more seriously, “It’s her attitude that sold me, Essie. She effing radiates confidence, but with enough vulnerability to keep things interesting.”

A recent photo of Suzannah Ryder flashed across Kristie’s computer screen. Honey-blond curls, huge blue eyes and cheekbones so striking that Kristie made a note to incorporate them into one of the composite pictures she sometimes built for SPIN ops.

“She’s darling.”

“Yeah,” Justin confirmed. “But I hired her for her guts. My question to you is, is she as good as I think she is?”

“Her reputation’s spotless, at least on the surface.” Kristie scanned Suzannah’s credentials, noting that she had graduated at the top of her undergraduate class at Notre Dame, then came out comfortably in the middle of her law-school class at Princeton before landing a job at a well-respected civil law firm. Again Kristie made a note to use Suzannah’s profile in a fake ID some day soon. She had just the right blend of excellence and normality, almost as if she had engineered it that way.

“She doesn’t practice criminal law, Justin.”

“Yeah, I know. The win against Taylor was an exception. Something she handled for a friend.”

“That makes sense.” The spinner continued to search her favorite agency and Internet sources. “I’ll keep digging.”

“Okay. I’ll call again tonight.”

“Actually—” The spinner hesitated before suggesting, “If I find something, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, just assume she’s clean, okay?”

There was a long silence, then Justin asked her, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m on probation again. It’s seems like I always am, doesn’t it? But this time McGregor means it. In more ways than one,” she added with a self-conscious laugh.

“Unbelievable,” Justin muttered. “They should be kissing your feet, not trying to control you. Don’t they know how great you are?”

“To be fair, they’ve given me a lot of slack.”

“They don’t deserve you,” Justin retorted with unexpected vehemence. “Maybe we both should just chuck it all and run away together.”

“Huh?” Kristie’s stomach knotted. “Are you that worried about the verdict?”

“Nah. I’m innocent, so it’ll come out fine. But meanwhile…” His tone grew pensive. “The thrill has gone out of this gig for me, Essie. I never thought I’d say that, and it’s probably temporary. So just forget I said anything.”

The spinner bit her lip. Until now, Justin Russo had loved his work more than anyone she knew. He thrived on the danger, the heroic opportunities, the romantic possibilities….

“Obviously I screwed up this time,” he was admitting. “But you haven’t done anything wrong. The fact that they don’t appreciate you—”

“They appreciate me. They just want me to start following protocol. And I’ve decided they’re right. And,” she added, trying for a lighter tone, “I’m not just saying that because I know the monitors might be listening to this call.”

Justin’s chuckle sounded forced. “Don’t get in trouble on my account. I’m doing fine here. Just forget I called. I won’t bother you with this anymore.”

“I’ll keep looking at Suzannah Ryder’s background,” she assured him. “If I find something negative, I’ll call. And if you need anything—anything at all—please let me know.”

“Sure, Essie. But for now I’d better get going. I don’t want to keep my new lawyer waiting.”

“Right. Okay, good luck.”

She winced when he said, “’Bye” and hung up without giving her a chance to say anything further. She was actually tempted to call him back and make him promise to contact her at least daily.

Then a video popped up on her monitor, distracting her completely. It was a recent film of Suzannah Ryder handling—or rather, attempting to politely terminate—a news conference on her recent appellate court success. Even with the graininess of the footage, the attorney’s smile was amazing, just as Justin had described—confident yet vulnerable.

“The Court of Appeal’s opinion is pretty blunt in its criticism of Judge Taylor,” a male reporter was observing. “Do you think there should be an investigation of his heavy-handed tactics? Maybe even a recall?”

“Judge Taylor is one of our finest jurists,” Suzannah assured him. “I don’t think there’s a member of our legal community that doesn’t respect and admire him. The appellate court’s comments are specific to this particular trial and shouldn’t be taken as a general criticism. Or even as a criticism at all. These things are complicated,” she added with another, warmer smile. “It’s the reason I don’t generally practice criminal law. I leave that to the real pros, like Defendant Driscoll’s new attorney, Tony Moreno.”

A barrage of questions erupted, but Suzannah held up her hand and insisted, “That’s all, folks. Have a good afternoon.” Then she dismissed them with a friendly wave, and while a few reporters made halfhearted attempts to ask follow-up questions, most of them cooperated.

Kristie nodded, pleased with what she saw. This Ryder woman had poise as well as brains. In fact, she was the consummate professional in her perfectly tailored suit and medium heeled shoes, not to mention the casual, easy-care style in which she wore her chin-length curls. If the rest of her background check came out as well as this, Justin had definitely picked himself a winner.

Assuming, of course, that he was able to keep his hands off her.

And assuming, further, that he was innocent…

Kristie tried not to think about that, but it was too late. The knot—a cruel blend of spinner instinct and bitter experience—had returned to her stomach.

Chapter 2

They took separate cars to the Hotel Charlton, giving Suzannah a chance to adjust to what had happened. It was obvious that Judge Taylor saw this as an opportunity to punish her for getting his ruling reversed on appeal. If she made any further attempts to resist, he might even hold her in contempt. She had to be very careful, not just for her own sake but for Justin’s.

She knew why the FBI agent had chosen her. He thought she was a great criminal-law attorney because of her success in the Driscoll case. Poor guy—not only was he wrong about that but he simply didn’t understand how much Taylor hated her or how much all that resentment would work against him now, too.

Like it or not, their best strategy for the short run was to cooperate completely with the judge. Hopefully Suzannah’s role in the case wouldn’t be too taxing. She really had only two responsibilities: the first, to make sure the defendant didn’t skip town, which made her a glorified babysitter; and the second, to make sure the government defense attorneys didn’t sell Justin down the river to protect the FBI’s reputation.

She could do both of those things while also working on her Hawaii presentation. The government lawyers could handle the big defense issues, do the footwork and keep her informed so that she could make the final strategy decisions.

It didn’t sound so bad, assuming Justin cooperated. And assuming he was innocent. Not that it really mattered, because if he wasn’t, she was going to strangle him. So either way justice would be done.

Once she reached the hotel, she found a seat in the coffee bar adjacent to the lobby, rejecting any thought of going to his room to check on his progress. There was a slight risk that her new client might ditch her and dash for the border, but in the long run, that would be a good thing, wouldn’t it? In any case, she wasn’t ready to be alone with a suspected murderer who had a reputation as a charmer. Better to stick to public places for the moment.

Keeping one eye on the elevator, she ordered a mocha, then checked her office voice mail to see if any messages had come in. Then she sent some brief e-mails to her colleagues, just in case they heard rumors about what had happened with the Jailor. And finally she attacked the job of reorganizing her obsolete calendar and task list.

Forty things to do in two short weeks, all of them trumped by a murder case. Ugh!

Justin finally appeared, ambling toward her in tan slacks and a sexy black polo shirt. And she had to sigh, right out loud. He had looked so good just two short two hours ago, with his shaggy hair, sexy smile, golden tan and great body. Now he just looked like a pain in the ass.

“That was fast,” she told him, tucking her PDA into her purse.

His tone was warm as he settled into the seat across from her. “I know you’re mad, but—”

She held up her hand to stop him. “I’ve adjusted, actually. Let’s just get started, shall we?”

“Great.” He motioned to a nearby waitress, who almost tripped over two other customers getting to him right away, then breathlessly introduced herself as Janet.

Gracing her with one of his sexiest smiles, he ordered a latte with an extra shot, plus a refill for Suzannah.

“Should we get something to eat, too?” he asked his new attorney. “It’s almost lunchtime.”

She hesitated but then remembered her policy of making him pay through the nose for ruining her vacation, so she nodded. “The quiche looks good. And a small salad?”

Justin nodded, then told the waitress, “I’ll have grilled cheese if you’ve got it.”

“It’s not on the menu, but I’m sure I can talk the cook into it.”

“That would be great, Janet. Thanks.”

Suzannah watched the woman hurry off on her mission. “I guess you get a lot of that?”

“Pardon?”

“Females falling all over themselves to do your bidding?”

“She’s just trying to do a good job. Anyway…” He exhaled sharply. “I know I screwed up your morning, to put it mildly. And I realize criminal law isn’t your specialty, even though you kicked some serious judicial ass on that appeal. So I just want you to know you’re off the hook as of now.”

“Pardon?”

“You earned your fee by getting me released on bail. That was my big concern this morning. Now I can take it from here. After tomorrow’s court appearance, you can just do whatever you were already planning to do this week.”

When Suzannah glared, he laughed and said, “I know, I know. The judge wants me to brief you, and I will. But take my word for it—this thing will never go to trial. I’ll conclude my investigation and find the real perp long before that happens. I promise you that.”

“Oh, you promise? Well, that’s a relief.” She glared again. “I’m the attorney of record in a murder case. I take that very seriously. I take everything very seriously—a fact you’d better start respecting. I’ve spent ten years building a sterling reputation and I don’t want this case to torpedo it.”

“I told you, it’ll never go to trial.”

“Because you’ll solve it first? No offense, but I’d rather not count on you. Especially considering you’re an accused murderer.”

He leaned back in his chair and studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Fair enough. So how do you want to approach this? I can give you details or just the big picture.”

“Let’s start with the punch line. Who is it you’re supposed to have killed?”

“A woman named Gia Masterson. She was a witness in a case I’ve been investigating.”

“Gia Masterson?” Suzannah bit her lip. “In that case, I already have the big picture. From reading the newspapers. Not that I’ve kept up with it faithfully, but she was shot a couple of weeks ago, right? And a few weeks before that, she inherited a huge fortune from her father when he was murdered by the Angel of Mercy serial killer.”

When Justin nodded, Suzannah rubbed her eyes, acutely aware of the ache forming behind them.

The Angel of Mercy, as the papers had dubbed him, had been in the headlines for a couple of months. He apparently thought he was receiving psychic signals from vegetative patients who were begging him to free them so that they could go to heaven. Unable to resist, he had finally begun infiltrating nursing homes, using his position and training as a licensed vocational nurse to put the patients out of their misery once and for all.

Rallying herself, Suzannah asked carefully, “Any chance the Angel of Mercy killed Gia, as well? I mean, I know he usually goes after people in comas, but…”

Justin shook his head. “I’m not even sure the Angel of Mercy killed the father, much less the daughter.”

“Ooh, that’s new. The papers made it sound like a slam dunk.”

He nodded. “We tried to keep it quiet while we investigated. Horace Masterson was the fourth in a series of patients supposedly killed by the Angel—by lethal injection—in nursing homes. But given Masterson’s enormous wealth and the fact that his company handles top-secret government research, the possibility of a copycat killing with financial or political motives couldn’t be discounted.”

“Hmm…And since Gia inherited her father’s money, she was a suspect in his murder, even though the Angel of Mercy was the prime suspect?”

Justin hesitated. “Putting aside the whole mercy-killing angle, the Masterson case is pretty complicated. For one thing, Gia could have pulled the plug on her father any time she wanted. He’s been brain-dead and completely dependent on life support for more than three years because of a massive stroke and a slew of complications. Gia had a durable power of attorney over his health decisions. But she worshipped her father, almost to a perverse degree. She swore she’d never—ever—order life support removed, even though doctors said there was no hope of his regaining the slightest awareness. And since Gia had full authority to handle Masterson’s financial affairs, she was able to pay for endless excellent care.”

Suzannah frowned. “So that’s why you called her a witness, not a suspect, in her father’s murder investigation?”

“It’s complicated,” he repeated. “But yeah, I don’t think Gia killed her father. On the other hand, I don’t think the Angel of Mercy did it, either. My instincts are generally pretty good in these cases. That’s why the Bureau sent me in the first place. And right from the start I was sure a huge chunk of the puzzle was missing. Unfortunately I went off in the wrong direction.”

“How so?”

He hesitated, then explained. “Like I said, Masterson Enterprises handles top-secret government projects. At the time of Horace’s murder, his company was being considered as the contractor for a project known as Night Arrow. Night Arrow,” he added reverently, “is an amazing phenomenon. I’ll fill you in on the nonclassified details later, but take my word for it. It’s probably the biggest find—scientific or otherwise—of our lifetime.”

Taking a deep breath, he visibly checked his enthusiasm. “The point is, I focused on Night Arrow as the motive. I figured someone wanted to get their hands on the research—even take over Masterson Enterprises to do so—and the first stage was killing the old man.”

“But now?”

“Now I’m not so sure,” he admitted. “If Night Arrow was the motive, killing Gia was counterproductive. Because Masterson Enterprises lost any chance of getting the contract when Gia was murdered. Scandal and government research don’t go together. So,” he finished with a shrug, “I’ve put Night Arrow on the back burner for now.”

Suzannah wasn’t fooled. She had caught the gleam in his eye when he’d first mentioned the project, and it was a look guys usually reserved for sex and sports. There was no way he had truly abandoned his theory, but for the moment she would play along.

So she asked him, “Are you sure the same person who killed the dad killed Gia?”

“I’d bet my ass on it.”

“Okay…” She pursed her lips. “Gia was Horace Masterson’s sole heir. But Gia must have an heir, as well, right? So that person would have a motive to kill them both, right? First kill Horace so Gia would inherit his fortune. Then murder Gia and get everything—the whole Masterson estate—for himself or herself.” She gave him a hopeful smile. “So? You’re not Gia’s heir, are you?”

He laughed. “Hardly. She recently changed her will, but not to give it to me. Her sister, Mia, is her sole heir.”

“Mia and Gia?” Suzannah winced. “Cute. If they’re sisters, how come Mia didn’t get half of Masterson’s estate in the first place?”

“Horace Masterson disowned Mia about eight years ago. Kicked her out of the house, out of his life and out of the will—all for having an affair with the son of his archenemy.”

“He had an archenemy?”

“Cool, huh?” Justin grinned. “William Seldon and Horace Masterson were partners. Then William had an affair with Horace’s wife, Julia. Needless to say, the partnership ended. William is long since dead. So is Julia, for that matter.”

“But Mia had an affair with William’s son?”

“Correct. William’s son, Derek.”

“And then Horace disowned Mia.”

“Right. And since big sister Gia was such a slave to her father’s affection, she turned her back on Mia, as well. So Mia went to live with a cousin named Cynthia on the East Coast. Even after Horace Masterson had his stroke, Gia didn’t thaw out about her estranged sister. But then…” He gave an apologetic wince. “Can you handle more or are you overloaded?’

“You’re kidding, right? What finally made Gia thaw out?”

He chuckled. “Like I said, Mia had been living with their cousin. Apparently this Cynthia was something of a bridge between the sisters—she had visited them often as a child, and they both loved her. When Mia went to live with Cynthia, Gia turned her back on both of them. After Horace’s stroke, Mia wanted to come home to visit her dad at the nursing home. When Gia said no, Cynthia decided to intercede. She drove across the country and appeared on Gia’s doorstep to plead for a reconciliation between the two sisters. Gia sent Cynthia away. But Cynthia—who was exhausted and in tears—never made it home. She crashed her car into a power pole.”

“Oh, no.”

Justin nodded. “That’s when Gia came to her senses. She told me she finally realized how isolated she had allowed herself to become, physically and emotionally. So she contacted Mia and they reconciled as sisters. Mia moved back home and started visiting the old man—and since he was in a coma, he didn’t object, obviously. The sisters became genuinely close again. Closer even than regular sisters in some ways. I can’t imagine Mia killing Gia. But someone did it, and it sure wasn’t me.”

“So besides you, the Angel of Mercy, and Mia, are there any other suspects? In Gia’s murder, I mean.”

“Well, like I said, it’s always possible—although less likely now—that some outsider wanted to gain control of the company for political or economic reasons. But, ironically, the series of scandals hitting that family has probably ruined the company’s reputation, at least temporarily. So if someone killed Gia for wealth or secrets, they grossly miscalculated.”

“Okay.” Suzannah held up her hand, palm forward. “I can’t absorb much more for the moment. But there’s one last thing I need to know up front. Why would anyone suspect you of murdering Gia?”

He gave her a pained smile. “Promise not to get upset?”

“Oh, God, let me guess. You slept with her? A suspect?”

“A witness,” he reminded her with another, weaker smile. “Anyway, no one really thinks I had a motive to kill her. She was found alone in her bedroom, shot by a gun with my prints on it, about an hour after I had dinner with her. The circumstances indicated that there was a struggle, so the consensus was that I must have shot her in self-defense.” His blue eyes clouded. “They offered me a deal right away. If I would admit that she tried to shoot me and that I just acted to protect myself, there wouldn’t be any charges. I’d keep my job after a perfunctory investigation. That’s what everyone wanted, because my career’s been solid up till now. No one wanted to see it end over this.”

Suzannah gave him a sympathetic smile. “But you didn’t shoot her, so you didn’t take the deal.”

“Right. Someone shot her, and I’d be damned if I was going to let them get away with it. Or have that kind of crazy shit on my record. Unfortunately the evidence against me is fairly strong.”

“Like the fingerprints on the gun?” she murmured.

“I helped her load it before I left that night. She was getting nervous—about the Angel of Mercy coming after her next. Poor kid.”

“That makes sense. About the fingerprints, I mean, not the Angel.”

“Right. But it ticked the D.A. off big-time when I wouldn’t take his deal. So he slapped a murder charge on me. I think they all thought that that would make me cave and admit it was self-defense for sure. But I didn’t shoot her. End of discussion.”