The Simple Truth

So there you are. But thats not the biggest hole in all this. Remember, Harmsisnta jailhouse lawyer. Hes never filed anything else in court. If Fiske checks out your claim, hell find out you lied. And when Fiske does that and I have to believe he will then everything blows up.

Its not like I had a lot of time to think up a plan, Rayfield said hotly.

Im not saying otherwise. But by lying to him, you just made him a big liability. And we have yet another problem.

Whats that?

Everything Harms said in his appeal happens to be true. Did you forget that? The truth is fu

Rayfield took a weary breath and checked his watch.

Shit, Id take Nam over this any day.

I guess we all got a little too comfortable. Well, its time to earn your money, Frank. You and Tremaine just get it done. And while youre taking care of business, remember this: We all either survive this together, or we all go down together. *����*����* Thirty minutes later, after his debriefing by Rayfields assistant, Michael left the prison building and walked in the light rain to his car. What a sucker hed been. He felt like tearing up the appeal papers, but he wouldnt. Maybe hed put them back into the process. Still, he felt sorry for Rufus Harms. All those years in prison had taken their toll. As Michael pulled out of the parking lot, he had no way of knowing that most of his radiator fluid had been collected in a bucket and poured into the nearby woods. Five minutes later he looked on in dismay as the steam poured out from the hood of his car. He got out, gingerly raised the hood and then jumped back as a cloud of steam momentarily engulfed him. Swearing angrily, he looked around: not a car or human in sight. He thought for a moment. He could walk back to the prison, use the phone and call a towing service. As if on cue, the rain picked up in intensity. As he looked up ahead of him, his spirits brightened. A van was approaching from the direction of the prison. He waved his arms to flag it down. As he did so he looked back at the car, steam still pouring out. Fu

Get in, Victor Tremaine ordered. ["C16"]CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It was Saturday afternoon when Sara Evans drove to Michaels apartment and looked at the cars parked on the street. His Honda wasnt there. He had called in sick on Friday, something she had never known him to do before. She had called his apartment, but he hadnt answered the phone. She parked, went in the building and knocked on his door. There was no answer. She didnt have a key. She went around to the rear of the building and climbed up the fire escape. She looked in the window of his small kitchen. Nothing. She tried the door, but it was locked. She drove back to the Court, her worries increased tenfold. Michael was not sick, she knew that. All this had something to do with the papers she had seen in his briefcase, she was sure of it. She silently prayed that he was not in over his head. That he was safe, and would be back to work on Monday. She went back to work for the rest of the day and then had a late di

It was Monday and John Fiske sat at his desk, digesting yet another arrest report on one of his clients. By now he was extremely adept at this process. He was only halfway through the report and he could already tell the sort of deal the guy could expect to get. Well, it was nice being good at something. The knock on his office door startled him. His right hand slid open the top drawer of his desk. Inside was a 9mm, a leftover from his cop days. His clientele were not the most trustworthy. So while he would represent them zealously, he was not naive enough to turn his back on them either. Some of his clients had shown up at his door drugged or drunk, with a grudge against him for some perceived wrong. Thus, his spirits were lifted considerably by the feel of hard steel against his palm.

Come on in, doors unlocked.

The uniformed police officer who stepped through the doorway brought a smile to Fiskes lips, and he closed his desk drawer. Hey, Billy, how you doing?

Ive been better, John, Officer Billy Hawkins said. As Hawkins came forward and sat down, Fiske saw the multicolored bruises on his friends face. What the hell happened to you?

Hawkins touched one of the bruises. Guy went nuts at a bar the other night, popped me a couple of good ones. He added quickly, Thats not why Im here, John.

Fiske knew Hawkins to be a good-natured sort who didnt let the constant pressures of his job overwhelm him. He was always as reliable and serious about his job as he was casual and friendly off duty. Hawkins glanced nervously at Fiske.