The Burning Man

(60kay, I'm listening."

"Do you know what happens during the penalty phase of your trial?"

"No, Pete. What happens?"

"You ... you've, uh, been convicted of aggravated murder. That's the most serious crime in Oregon. The jury is going to listen to the D.A. and your lawyer and decide which of three punishments to give you. Two of the punishments are life sentences. One life sentence lets you have a possible parole after thirty years. One life sentence doesn't have parole. That means you can't get out ever."

"I don't like that. I want to get out."

Peter started to explain to Gary that he could not get out of prison, but he stopped himself. It was all so futile.

"There's another punishment, Gary. You could receive a death sentence. The jury could say that you shouldbeexecu.. killed.Doyouunderstand?"

"I don't want that one," Gary said. He sounded -A scared.

"And I don't want you to get that punishment either, Peter said, his words catching in his throat. "That's why we're having this talk.

"Now pay close attention, Gary. It's very important that you have a really good lawyer in the penalty phase and I don't think I should be your lawyer."

Gary looked surprised, then even more frightened.

"Don't you want to be my lawyer? You're a good lawyer."

"I'm not so sure about that, Gary. I haven't done very well with this case so far. I.. . I've never tried a penalty phase. If I told the judge that I'm not good enough to six represent you, he'd get you a good lawyer."

"No, no," Gary said in a panic, "you're my lawyer. "Yes, Gary, but I think you'd do better with another lawyer."

"Oh no. You're the best lawyer," Gary said with conviction. "And you're my friend. My best friend. You'll save me. I know you won't let them give me those bad punishments."

"Jesus, Gary .. ." Peter started, but he did not have the heart to go on.

"Think about it, will you. Really THE t Think about it. Because, I don't know .. . Just think FLATLANDS about it."

April

Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN.

judge Kuffel set the start of the penalty phase for a week from Monday, which gave Peter very little time to recover from the trial. On Sunday, Peter woke up a little after nine from a restless sleep haunted by unsettling dreams. He did not want to spend the day in his depressing rental house and he did not have the energy for a run, so, after a shower and breakfast, he went to the office.

Peter had no plan to save Gary. He spent the first half hour aimlessly stacking everything in his case files on his desk. He had been through the police reports, the autopsy report and witness statements several times. The only new things were Donna's neatly typed investigative Peter picked them up and went through them reports.

without enthusiasm. He found nothing of interest until he read Donna's summary of her interview with Marjorie Dooling. Something she'd written triggered a memory and Peter shuffled through the police reports until he found David Thorne's statement.

As Peter entered the Stallion, a man in a Pittsburgh Steeler uniform spun away from two Oakland Raider defenders and gained five yards before being brought down by another Raider. Several patrons groaned and several more cheered. The bartender turned away from the television when the Steelers called a time-out.

"Dave Thorne?"

"That's me," the bartender answered with a smile.

"I'm Peter Hale, Gary Harmon's lawyer."

The smile disappeared. "Tough loss, man," Thorne shook his head. "I have a hard time believing Gary could do something like that."

"I don't think he did. That's why I'm here. I wanted to ask you about something you told the police. It was in the statement you gave to Dennis Downes."

"I remember that."

"I was interested in what you had to say about Sandra Whiley. She was sitting at the end of the bar farthest from the door, right?"

"Yeah, near my station."

"So you saw her for a while?"

"I wasn't paying that much attention. I was pretty busy."

"Right, but in the report you said that there was a time when she seemed nervous or frightened."

,I did?"

Peter gave him a copy of his statement and Thorne read it carefully. He stopped at a section of the report that Peter had highlighted in Magic Marker. Thorne read it twice, then nodded vigorously.

"I remember now. What do you want to know?"

"You said that she was watching two men who were walking toward the back door and she seemed frightened. Tell me about that."

"It was after I called Steve Mancini. When I turned around, Whiley looked shocked or scared. I thought she was staring at two guys on the level above the dance floor, up there."

Peter looked where Thorne was pointing.

"Did you get a good look at the men?" Peter asked.

"No. It was dark and I only glanced at them. Things were pretty frantic up front."

"Can you describe them at all?"

Thorne thought for a second. Then he brightened.

One guy made no impression, but the other guy was huge. I remember thinking he looked like a pro wrestler."

Marjorie Dooling had appeared briefly as a witness in the state's case-in-chief. Peter asked her no questions, but he remembered what she looked like. It only took him a few minutes to locate her in the Whitaker State I College library, where her landlady said she was studying. Dooling was hunched over a history text at a large table next to a row of bookfilled stacks. The seat across from her was empty and Peter took it.

"Miss Dooling, my name is Peter Hale." He handed in her a bus' ess card. "I represent Gary Harmon. You testified at the trial." Dooling's features clouded. "You were kind enough to talk to my investigator the other day, and there was one small item in her report that I wanted to clear up."

"All right," Dooling sighed. "One question. But that's all. I have a test tomorrow."

Peter showed Dooling the section of Donna's report where she had mentioned the man who came to the house to pick up Sandy. of him." ::You said you thought Sandy was frightened She was real nervous all day. When he honked the horn for her, she seemed scared to me."

"Can you remember anything g more about the man in who picked her up? His hair color, his size?"

Dooling started to shake her head. Then, she stopped as something occurred to her.

"I only saw him from the second-floor window and he was in his car. But there was something. When Sandy came out of the door, his arm was restin on the car window. I only saw it for a second, because he brought it inside as soon as he saw her.

"What about the arm?"

"He was wearing a short-sleeve tee shirt and I could see part of his biceps and his forearm. They were really big, like a weight lifter's, and they were covered by tattoos."

"Can you describe the tattoos?"

Dooling closed her eyes. When they opened, she said, "I'm not certain. Like I said, I was looking from a second-floor window and I only saw his arm for a moment, but I think I saw snakes and a panther."

Peter drove back to his office in a fog. Sandra Whiley knew, and was afraid of, Christopher Mammon. Was Mammon monitoring Gary's trial to make certain that he was not implicated by any of the evidence? Mammon had the opportunity to commit the crime. He left the Stallion around the time that Whiley left the bar. If Peter could show that a monster like Mammon had a reason to harm Whiley, Gary Harmon would cease to be the only viable suspect in her murder.

As Peter parked in front of Mancini's building, he remembered Amos Geary telling him to read Mammon's file before the preliminary hearing, but Peter had only given the documents in the file a cursory glance. Now he wished he had been more thorough. There might have been something in the file that would help Gary.

Asking Geary to see the file would be useless. He doubted Geary would even talk to him. Besides, the file was confidential and Peter no longer worked for Geary.

However, Steve Mancini represented Kevin Booth in the case involving the Whitaker State bust. He would also have the police reports.

All of the closed files in the office were in a large room behind the secretarial station. Peter turned on the lights.

Mancini's files were arranged alphabetically, so Peter found Booth's file quickly. It was not that thick, since the case had not gotten past the preliminary hearing.

There was a table with a reading lamp at the front of the file room. Peter sat down and opened the file. He took out the envelope holding the police reports and piled them on the table. He read through the reports slowly, but discovered nothing helpful until he found two reports halfway down that looked strange. They were different in form from the other report's and seemed neater. It did not take Peteir long to figure.out why the reports looked different. They had not been written by the Whitaker police or the campus police.

They were reports written by agents of the DEA, the federal Drug Enforcement Administration.

The first report detailed the activities of an unnamed, confidential, reliable informant, or CRI, who had been busted with cocaine and had agreed to work off the case by setting up Kevin Booth. The report was a chronological history of the contacts between Booth and the CRI in Whitaker. The CRI was to purchase increasingly larger amounts of cocaine from Booth until Booth was unable to supply the CRIS demand and had to agree to put the CRI in touch with someone who could.

The second report detailed the arrest of Kevin Booth and Christopher Mammon on the Whitaker campus, but it contained information about the arrest that was new to Peter. The CRI was supposed to be bringing thirty thousand dollars to Booth for two kilos of cocaine. After the sale went through, the CRI was going to up the ante to a point that would force Booth to use his contacts to supply a very large amount of cocaine. It was hoped that this deal would be handled directly by Booth's supplier. From the report, it appeared that the arrest by campus security had been totally unexpected and neither the DEA nor the Whitaker police wanted the arrest to occur.

J Peter was certain he had never seen either of the DEA reports in Geary's file. Why would Mancini have them, but not Geary? Peter reread the reports.

A thought occurred to him and he felt himself grow cold. What if Sandra Whiley was -not simply an innocent bystander who was murdered by mistake?

What if she was working off an arrest for cocaine and had betrayed Christopher Mammon to the DEA? That would give Mammon a huge motive for murder.

Peter put the envelope with the police reports back in the file. He was about to close it when he spotted a telephone message slip that Mancini had clipped into the folder on the left side. The slip was dated the day before the preliminary hearing. The letters ASAP underlined in red and written in capital letters caught Peter's eye.

Peter read the message carefully. It was from Becky O'Shay. She wanted Steve to call as soon as he came in-ASAP-so they could discuss a deal in the Booth case. Peter wondered what the deal had been. Maybe that's what Steve and Becky had been discussing when he saw them in the hall outside the courtroom before the prelim. But the deal had obviously fallen through because Booth had not pled guilty.

Peter replaced the file and was about to leave the file room when another thought struck him. -Becky O'Shay must have given Steve Mancini the DEA reports That meant she knew about the existence of the CRT. Did she also know the identity of the CRT? If Whiley was the CRT and Becky knew it, but kept it a secret, Peter could use that fact as a basis for a motion for a new trial. But before he confronted O'Shay or filed a motion, he had to find out if Sandra Whiley was the CRT and Peter thought he knew how he could do that.

"I don't know, Peter. I could get in a lot of trouble," Rhonda Kates said.

"I know that. I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate."

"Why don't you just tell the district attorney that you need to talk to Booth. Don't they have to let you talk to witnesses?"

"They do. But the D.A. would insist on coming along or she'd convince Booth to refuse to see me."

"I thought that was illegal."

"The reason I have to sneak Booth's room is because I think the D.A. has already done something illegal. Becky will do anything to win.

"Look, all you've got to do is get the guard away from Booth's door. I only have one question to ask him. I'll be in and out."

"This is a lot to ask."

I ; "Rhonda, Donna's brother may be innocent. If Kevin Booth says what I think he will, I may be able to set Gary's verdict aside and give the police the real killer. If I don't get in to see Booth, Gary will most probably be on death row by the end of next week."

Kevin Booth had been moved to a room at the Whitaker hospital two days before. A guard sat in front of his door at all times. Peter waited in an alcove a short distance from Booth's room and used his cellular phone to call the hospital. He asked for the extension at the nurses' station farthest from Booth's room. Rhonda picked up on the first ring and pretended to carry on a conversation. Then, she placed the receiver down and told the other nurse to make sure the phone was not hung up.

Peter watched as Rhonda told the guard that there was a call for him. He seemed nervous about leaving his station, but Rhonda said the call was from the station house and the caller had said it was urgent. As soon as -the policeman got up, Peter slipped into Booth's room.

Booth's hospital gown covered most of his burns, but here and there Peter saw patches of shiny, bright red and purple skin surrounded by bunches of scars. Booth's face was still covered with cream.

"Hi, Mr. Booth. I'm Peter Hale, Gary Harmon's lawyet," Peter said with what he hoped was a winning smile. "We met in Portland."

"What are you doing here?" Booth asked. His speech was normal now. "I thought the case was over."

"It is. Actually, I had a question about the Whitaker State bust. The one you beat."

"Why do you want to know about that case?"

"Chris Mammon still has to go to trial on it.

"Well, fuck him. I don't give a rat's ass about Mammon."

Peter thought fast.

"This may not help Mr. Mammon. Actually, your answer could really hurt his case. But I've got to know if he's telling us the truth. If he's not, he could end up serving a long prison term."

"What did you want to know?" Booth asked, interested in anything that would keep Christopher Mammon off his back.

"You know when you were busted at Whitaker State.

Was Sandra Whiley bringing you thirty thousand dollars or three thousand?

It will make a big difference at sentencing. Mammon claims that Whiley was only going to bring three thousand and that he didn't know how much cocaine was in the Ziploc bags."

Booth snorted. "Mammon's lying. He knew exactly how much dope was in the bags. He weighed them himself. And he knew how much dough Whiley was bringing because he told her to bring the thirty grand."

"Sorry to hear that. Say, was Mammon aware that Whiley was Working for the feds?"

"Not before we got busted. But after, I said the bitch must have turned us in. Chris was furious. He said he was gonna check it out.

"That's what we heard," Peter said solemnly.

"Where'd you meet Whiley?"

Booth tilted his head to the side and looked at Peter suspiciously. "I thought you were interested in Mammon."

ng "I am. He says he didn't know Whiley well. I thought, if you knew her, you could set the record straight."

:ch "He's lyin' to you. Personally, I think he was screwing her."

er 4 4 "YOU do?"

"The bitch would do anything for cocaine."

Suddenly Booth laughed.

"What's so funny?"

Ut "If Whiley was working for the feds there's gonna be a lot of nervous people in this burg."

"Why's that?"

n- "She never had much money, so she had to earn her if snow. One way she did that was by making deliveries.

up She could name a lot of names."

"Like who?"

!r- ""Mr. Football' for one. It would serve the cock n- sucker right, the way he left me hanging as soon as I said I didn't have any money."

the. "Who are you talking about?"

irs Before Booth could answer, the door opened and the !guard walked in. When he saw Peter, he put his hand on to his gun.

w "Who are you and what are you doing in here?"

"I'm an attorney," Peter said with righteous indignation."

"This man is a witness in the Harmon case. I have in- a constitutional right to talk to him."

ig- "Let's see some identification," the guard said, taking the gun out and pointing it at Peter.

iat "No problem. I'm just going to get my wallet, see."

Peter pulled the wallet out slowly and handed a busi :ch ness card to the officer. The policeman studied Peter for he a minute.

"Yeah, you're Harmon's lawyer. I recognize you now.

Y_ I don't know what you think you're doing, but sneaking in here on my watch is going to get your ass hauled ter down to the station."

in "You better check before you try that," Peter said with more bravado than he felt. "Whitaker doesn't have enough money to cover the damages I'll win if you arrest me for talking to a witness in a death penalty case."

The guard looked a little uncertain, but he stood his ground. Several people had clustered in the doorway to see what was going on. The officer turned to one of them.

"Nurse, call the station house and ask for one of the sergeants. Tell them we have a situation here."

Dennis Downes had no idea whether Peter's shenanigans were legal or illegal. Peter was an attorney and Booth was a key witness. As soon as he learned what Peter had done, he called Becky O'Shay. O'Shay had sworn long and loudly, then told Downes she would be at the station in a few minutes.

"Just what do you think you're doing, Hale?" O'Shay demanded the minute the door to the interrogation room closed behind her.

"My duty under the Constitution of the United States."

"Your duty, my ass. That man is my witness and he's in protective custody.

You are in big trouble. The worst you're looking at is a bar complaint and I've got someone checking to see if you've broken any laws."

Peter was furious with O'Shay, but he did not let it show. Instead, he asked in a casual tone, "Do you think what I did was as bad as hiding the fact that your victim, Miss Whiley, was the woman who was bringing the thirty thousand dollars to Christopher Mammon and Kevin Booth on the evening of their arrest?"

Peter noticed, with satisfaction, that O'Shay's normally pale complexion was now thoroughly bleached of color.

"Do you think it's as bad as concealing from me the fact that Miss Whiley was working with the cops, a fact that Mammon suspected and that drove him into a murderous rage, thus making him a very viable suspect in Miss Whiley's murder?"

"What ... what are you talking about?" O'Shay stuttered.

"I'm talking about a serious violation of your duty as a prosecutor to turn over to the defense all exculpatory evidence in your possession. I think the fact that you knew a homicidal maniac like Christopher Mammon 'had it in for the deceased and failed to mention that little tidbit to me constitutes a gross violation of your duties as a prosecutor, an officer of the court and a human being."

"Mammon didn't kill Whiley, your client did," O'Shay said.

"That's for a jury to decide, not you."

"In case you've forgotten, hotshot, a jury did decide."

"They didn't have all the facts."

"This bullshit about Mammon is just that, bullshit," O'Shay shot back, seemingly over her initial shock. "I gave you all the information you were entitled to."

"We'll see about that. I think it's time to go to judge Kuffel."

For a brief second, O'Shay looked panicky. Then, she sat down across from Peter and, in a reasonable tone, said, "Listen, Peter, I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I know the pressure you've been under. And there's Harmon's family. This has been tough on everyone. But I can tell you that you're barking up the wrong tree."

"I've seen the DEA reports you sent to Steve Mancini."

"What are you talking about?"

"The reports that mention the CRI who was involved with the drug deal at Whitaker State where Mammon and Booth were arrested."

"I didn't send any DEA reports to Steve Mancini."

"Someone did. They were in with your discovery material."

"Let me see them."

"I don't have them. They're in Steve's file."

"I, think you're confused, Peter. If Whiley was working with the government, I would have been told."

O'Shay stood up and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. It's Sunday' "Are you going to tell Downes to let me 90 ?1 "As soon as I'm certain that you haven't broken any laws."

"And when will that be?"

"When the deputy I've got working on the project lets me know."

"That's fine by me, Becky. You're just increasing the damages I'm going to receive when I sue the Whitaker police, the Whitaker District Attorney's Office and you, personally."

The door to the interrogation room slammed shut and Peter swore.

The police held Peter for two more hours, then they let him go. While he was in custody, it occurred to Peter that he should make a copy of the DEA reports to show to the judge when he filed his motion for a new trial.

Peter's car was still at the hospital, so he hiked there and picked it up. He arrived at the office a little after eight.

All the lights were out. Peter went directly to the file room and took out the envelope with the police reports.

He shuffled through them twice before realizing that someone had removed the DEA reports from the file.

Peter's first reaction was anger at Becky O'Shay. She had to be behind the theft. She was the only person to whbm he had mentioned the reports. He felt so stupid for doing that, but he never would have believed she would go this far to hold on to her victory. She must havekept him in custody long enough to send someone to the office to retrieve the reports from the file.

Unfortunately for O'Shay, there was someone else who knew about the reports. Peter walked to his office and dialed Steve Mancini. It was going to look very bad for O'Shay when Steve confirmed the existence of the two documents in front of judge Kuffel. There would definitely be enough circumstantial evidence to support an inquiry by the Oregon State Bar into O'Shay's behavior.

"Steve, this is Peter," he said as soon as Mancini picked up.

"How are you doing?" Mancini asked. "You didn't look so good after the verdict."

"I didn't feel so good, either, but something has happened that's gotten me excited. I found out that Sandra Whiley was involved with the drug deal that went sour at Whitaker State. The one where Chris Mammon and Kevin Booth were arrested."

"What!"

"Yeah. I think Whiley was working with the police and Mammon found out. It gives him a terrific motive to kill her."

"That's incredible. How did you work that out?"

"I hope you're not mad, but after I learned about the relationship between Mammon and Whiley I looked in your file on Kevin Booth. I couldn't ask Amos Geary to let me see Mammon's file and I remembered that you'd have the same discovery. I should have called you first, but I was so excited I i4st did it."

"That's okay. You shouldn't have looked at the file.

It's confidential. But Gary's life is at stake."

"Thanks, Steve. Anyway, I found two reports in your file from the DEA," Peter went on. Then, he told Steve about his interview with Booth at the hospital, his detention by the police and his discovery that the reports had been removed from the file.

"Becky must have had someone break in here and remove them while I was at the police station," Peter concluded, "but she made one mistake. She forgot that you've seen the reports. You can confirm their existence.

Once the judge realizes that I saw the reports around noon, I told her about them around four and they were gone by eight, he's going to reach the same conclusion I have and O'Shay's ass will be grass. Kuffel is going to have to give Gary a new trial, once he determines that Becky failed to turn over key evidence that points to another suspect."

"These reports," Mancini asked hesitantly, "what did they look like?"

"They were typed up. Each one was a couple of pages long. They were written by DEA agents."

"Pete, I honestly don't remember seeing any reports from the DEA in the discovery I received from Becky."

"Well, they were in there."

"I'm sure they were. I mean, you just read the reports a few hours ago. All I'm saying is that I haven't looked at that file in a while and I just don't recall those reports.

"How can that be?"

"Booth's case wasn't that big a deal. I think I read through the reports once, real fast. He told me his version. All the stuff I needed to win at the prelim was in the report that the campus security guy filed. I'm sorry.

I'll spend some serious time thinking about it, but right now I don't remember any DEA reports."

Peter hung up in a daze. He had been counting on Steve to support him. If Mancini could not remember the reports, he had nothing. Then, Peter recalled the last thing Kevin Booth said before the guard burst into Booth's hospital room. Something about Whiley making cocaine deliveries to pay for her drugs.

Booth had said that several people in Whitaker would have to worry if Whiley was working for the police and she named names. The only person he'd had time to mention before the' guard came in was "Mr. Football," who had dropped Booth when he found out Booth did not have any money.

Peter walked to the front door of the law-office and inspected it. He did the same with every other door that led into the building. None of 'them showed signs of forced entry. The person who took the DEA reports had a key to Steve Mancini's law office. Peter did not want to believe it. Could Steve have taken the reports? Peter raced back to the file room and opened the Booth file again. The phone message about the deal offer from O'Shay was also missing. Peter felt sick. Why was Mancini helping Becky O'Shay, and what were they covering up?

Suddenly, Peter recalled Steve's failure to tell him about his interview with Don Bosco. It was Steve who suggested that Peter convince Gary to plead guilty. Mancini had given him the names of three investigators, but the only one who was available was the incompetent Barney Pullen. Peter had assumed that Steve Mancini was his ally from the moment he'd become Gary Harmon's lawyer, but now it appeared that Mancini had a hidden agenda of his own and Peter suspected that it included saddling Gary with the lawyer least qualified to handle his case.

Peter parked his car at the edge of the dirt drive that led to the garage and surveyed Amos Geary's house. Like its owner, it was broken down and aging. Weeds had overgrown a front yard that had not seen a mower in recent times, the paint was peeling and faded. Only God knew the original color.

There was a light on behind a worn curtain in the front room. Peter hesitated before getting out of the car.

He could drive away, but to what destination?

One of the steps leading to the porch was cracked and Peter stumbled over it. He caught himself by breaking his fall with his hands. This was not an auspicious sign.

Peter thought about turning back, but the door opened.

When Peter looked up, he found Amos Geary, dressed in a bathrobe and striped pajamas, looking down at him with contempt.

"Jesus, Hale, you are pathetic. Can't you even walk up a flight of stairs without making a mess of it?"

"Good evening, Mr. Geary," Peter stuttered as he stood up awkwardly. His hands stung where they had smacked into the wooden porch.

"What are you doing on my property?" Geary demanded.

"I'm in trouble."

"I'm not interested."

Geary turned to go inside.

"Wait!" Peter shouted. "It's not me. It's Gary. Gary Harmon is in trouble."

Geary paused. He turned back. There was a chill in the evening air. A gust of wind went right through Peter and he shuddered.

"What do you want from me?"

"You're the only person I can turn to."

"What happened to your good buddy Steve?"

"There's something going on and Steve may be part of it."

"Going on?"

"A, uh, cover-up." Peter said the word hesitantly, knowing that it would make him appear paranoid.

"Something'like the Kennedy assassination?" Geary asked with a snort. "Something involving.the CIA, perhaps? Go home, Hale. You sound ridiculous."

"Please, Mr. Geary. I know I let you down.. .

"You didn't let me down. I expected you to fuck up.

In fact, Peter, you've confirmed my faith in my ability to judge the merits of my fellow man."

Geary almost had the door shut. Peter was desperate.

"Goddamn it," he shouted, "this isn't about you or me. It's -about Gary. That poor bastard is in jail for a murder he didn't commit."

Geary held on to the screen door and looked at Peter over his shoulder.

"Whose fault is that, Hale?"

"Mine! Are you happy? There, I said it. It's my fault.

I'm everything you said I was. I'm a self-centered shallow asshole and I'm asking for your help because I'know I don't have what it takes to save Gary."

"My advice to you is to return the retainer you took under false pretenses to the Harmons, confess your misrepresentations and tell them to hire a real lawyer to represent their son."

"It's not that simple. Please, hear me out. There's more to this than the murder in the park. I think Steve Mancini and Becky O'Shay have been working together to cover up something. I don't know what it is, but it's tied into the arrest of Christopher Mammon and Kevin Booth at Whitaker State."

Peter thought that Geary's eyes suddenly looked clearer and that the old lawyer was standing a little taller. Geary pushed the screen door open.

"Come inside. It's too cold to talk on the porch."

"Thank you," Peter answered.

The inside of Geary's house was in as much disorder as the exterior. The living room couch Geary indicated was covered in a flower pattern that had nothing to do with anything else in the room. It was worn and the prings sagged when Peter sat on it.

Youwant a drink)" Geary asked.

"Actually, yes."

Geary shuffled out of the room and returned with a fifth of Johnnie Walker and two moderately clean glasses. He poured a liberal amount of scotch in each glass and handed one of them to Peter.

"Talk," he said after taking a sip.

Peter started at the beginning. He told Geary how Steve Mancini had manipulated him into taking Gary's case and he explained his suspicions about the ways Mancini had sabotaged it. Finally, he told Geary about the day's incidents, ending with his discovery that the reports and the phone message slip were missing and his suspicion that they had been removed by Steve Mancini.

I "That's quite a story," Geary said when Peter was finished. "Some people might think that you're inventing excuses to explain why you lost Gary Harmon's trial."

"I can see how someone might think that," Peter answered, his eyes locked on Geary's.

"The way I understand it, with the DEA reports missing and Mancini and O'Shay denying their existence, you have no evidence at all to support your highly unbelievable story of a government cover-up."

"That's true."

"Then why do you think I can help you?"

This was the hard part. Peter took a deep breath.

"When I learned the reports were missing and Steve was most probably the one who'd removed them, I decided that the only thing left was to go to the source. I called the DEA office in Portland. There was only one agent on duty because it's a weekend, but eventually I was put through to Guy Price, the agent in charge. I told him everything and I told him how important it was to get copies of the reports so I could go to judge Kuffel and ask him to reopen the case. I was certain Price would help me. He isn't some ambitious, small-town D.A. like Becky. He's a federal agent."

Peter paused. He was exhausted and remembering one of the most depressing moments in his day didn't make him feel any better.

"He didn't help, did he?" Geary said.

Peter shook his head. "He told me that he couldn't confirm or deny any ongoing investigation."

"Is that all he said?"

"No," Peter answered with a tired smile. "He wished me good luck."

Geary laughed. "That sounds like your government in action, . son. If nothing else, you're certainly learning a lot-about the real world here in Whitaker."

"Yeah," Peter answered ruefully.

"You still haven't told me how you think I can help YOU.

"I almost gave up after my call to Price. Then I remembered that there was one person I knew who had enough clout to make someone like Price talk."

"I hope you don't mean me?" Geary asked incredulously.

"No, Mr. Geary. I .. I came here tonight to ask you to please call my father and ask him to talk to me."

Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT.

Peter had not slept well and the five-hour drive from Whitaker should have exhausted him, but he was floating by the time he saw the skyline of downtown Portland and the high green hills that formed its backdrop.

He was home and he was welcome once again in his father's house.

The night before, Amos Geary had talked to Richard Hale on the phone in his den for almost half an hour while Peter waited nervously in the living room. When Geary finally told Peter that his father wanted to talk to him, he had hesitated. Now that his opportunity for reconciliation had arrived, he was afraid.

When Peter entered the den, the receiver lay on its side on the edge of an old, rolltop desk. Peter had reached toward it, then stopped just before his fingers touched the plastic. What was he going to say to Richard? He hadn't thought that far ahead. Should he tell his father that he loved him? Should he say how sorry he was for disappointing him so often?

Should he ask forgiveness for falling so far below his father's expectations? In the end, all he managed was "Dad?" in a voice choked with emotions he was not yet able to express.

"Amos gave me an outline of your problem, but I'd like you to tell me everything from the beginning," Richard had responded.

It was as if there had never been an Elliot case or the intervening months of exile. One part of Peter was relieved that he was able to avoid the emotional exchange he assumed would precede their discussion of Gary's case, but there was another part of him that longed for a tearful reconciliation in which he confessed his sins and inadequacies and Richard forgave him. Thinking about it during the drive, Peter came to the conclusion that his father was not capable of crushing his son to him in a warm and forgiving hug. Peter knew he would never see tears trickling down his father's cheeks.

Richard Hale was simply not the type of man who could express his emotions.

This assistance in his hour of greatest need might be all his father was able to give.

The office of the United States Attorney for Oregon was in downtown Portland, a few blocks from the offices of Hale, Greaves. It was a little after five when Peter studied his reflection in the glass at the entrance to the office building. He had worn a charcoal gray pinstripe suit, a Berm8 tie and his best silk shirt for the meeting.

Sunlight rebounded from the shine on his black wing tips.

When Peter entered the lobby, Richard was standing off to one side. He had put on weight since the day he sent Peter into exile, but Richard was still thinner than Peter's mental image of his father.

"How was the drive?" Richard asked.

"Long and boring."

Richard smiled.

"Thanks for doing this for me," Peter said.

"You're my son," Richard answered simply. Then he turned toward the elevators.

"I don't know what to expect, Peter. There are no guarantees. Katherine probably knows nothing about what's going on in Whitaker. At best, one of the assistant U.S. attorneys is working with the DEA agent in charge of the case. Price might not even know that much about the operation or, if he does, his people may not be involved in this cover-up. That might be the work of the D.A. in Whitaker and your friend, Mancini."

"I know that. I just want to find out if Whiley was working for the DEA and whether O'Shay knew it. And I want copies of any reports that will prove O'Shay knew about the Mammon-Whiley connection."

The elevator doors opened into a reception area.

Richard announced their presence to a receptionist who sat behind a window of bulletproof glass. Minutes later, a door opened and a tall, welldressed woman with glasses and short black hair walked into the waiting area.

Katherine Hickox owed her appointment to the state circuit court bench to Richard Hale and others at Hale, Greaves, and it was to Richard Hale that she had turned when she decided to apply for the position of United States Attorney. Richard had quietly touted her to Oregon's United States senators and had made a phone call to a high-ranking official in the justice Department with whom he had served on a committee of the American Bar Association. So, it was no surprise when Hickox agreed to meet with Peter's father at five-thirty and to make certain that Guy Price attended the meeting.

"Richard," she said, offering him her hand.

Richard took it, then motioned Peter forward.

"This is my son, Peter. He's just driven in from Whitaker."

"It's nice meeting you," Hickox said warmly. If she knew about Peter's disgrace she hid her feelings well.

"Let's go back to my office. Guy is waiting for us there."

Hickox led them along a series of corridors to a corner office with a panoramic view of the city. When they entered, a short, muscular man in a brown sports coat stood up. After she made the introductions, Hickox sat down behind a large oak desk and Price sat beside it.

"Why don't you tell us why you needed to meet?"

Hickox suggested.

"Mr. Price," Richard said, looking directly at the DEA agent, "my son called you from Whitaker yesterday."

When Richard called Hickox to set up the meeting, he had not mentioned that his son would be accompanying him. Price suddenly made the connection. He did not looked pleased.

"For your benefit, Katherine ' Peter has been trying a death penalty case in Whitaker. Last week, his client was convicted of murdering a woman named Sandra Whiley.

Ontil yesterday" there did not appear to be anyone'else in Whitaker with a motive to murder the young woman.

Then, Peter discovered two DEA reports in the files of a Whitaker attorney named Steve Mancini. The reports, coupled with other information, led him to conclude that Wbiley had been working as an informant for the DEA in a case in Whitaker involving a very dangerous and violent drug dealer named Christopher Mammon.

"These IDEA reports were mixed in with police reports that had been given to Mancini in the drug case by the district attorney who is prosecuting the death penalty case. When Peter asked her about the reports, she denied knowing anything about them. Peter returned to his office to make copies of the reports and found them missing. He called Mr. Price for assistance and was told that it was against policy to confirm or deny the existence of an ongoing investigation. I'm here to ask Mr. Price to tell Peter if Sandra Whiley was working for the DEA in a case involving Christopher Mammon so that Peter can try to avert a miscarriage of justice."

Price looked uncomfortable. "I told your son that I can't discuss ongoing investigations, even to confirm or deny them. I'm afraid that's still my position. I wish you'd called me before having your son drive all the way here from Whitaker for nothing."

"I understand the official position of your office, Mr. Price. What you need to understand is the effect of following it," Richard told the agent coldly. "If Sandra Whiley was working for the DEA and the Whitaker ths Peter, she is guilty of a gross violation of the discovery trict attorney intentionally concealed this fact from rules. If she cons' i pired to have the reports destroyed to prevent Peter from provine her misconduct, she may be Guilty of a crime.

"Mr. Hale, I know you want to help your son, but I'm not going to discuss DEA business with either of you. If this D.A. is violating some law, your son should take it up with the judge we's trying the case."

Hale stared hard enough to make Price break eye contact. Then, in a level tone, he said, "Katherine will tell you that I am not without influence. If I find out that you're aware that Sandra Whiley was an informant for the DEA in the Whitaker case and you kept quiet about it, knowing it could cost a young man his life, I will personally make sure that you wish you were never born."

Price's eyes widened and he leaped to his feet.

"Guy!" Hickox said, holding out her hand in his direction. Price remained standing, but he restrained himself. The U.S. Attorney turned to Richard.

"I won't have you threatening Guy in my office, Richard."

"You're quite right," Richard said, in a tone that let Price know he still meant to keep his romise. "I a lo p PO gize, Mr. Price. I'm sure you probably don't linow ,hat's going on in Whitaker and I'm equally certain that you'll do the right thing, if you discover that an obstruction of justice is occurring there."

Price glared t Richard, but held his tongue.

"Thank you for meeting with Peter and me, Katherine."

"Let me show you out," Hickox answered stiffly.

As soon as they were out of Price's hearing, Hickox said, "How dare you pull a stunt like that? I don't work for. you and I'won't let you involve me in one of your cases."

Peter's father stopped and looked directly at Katherine Hickox.

"You don't work for me, but you are the chief law enforcement officer for the United States Government in this district. I wanted you to know that something very dirty maybe going on in your bailiwick. Something you don't want to be part of. Have a talk with Mr. Price after we're gone. Listen carefully to what he tells you.

Price may be clean, but he can find out someone else is dirty and he can make certain that Peter gets a copy of those reports. I've known you a long time, Katherine, and I know you'll do what is right."

When the elevator doors closed, leaving Peter and his father alone, Peter exhaled with relief.

"Jesus, Dad, are you sure you know what you're doing? Price is a really powerful person."

Richard turned to Peter with a wry smile.

"It's because Price is so powerful that I called him out.

I'm sure no one has talked to him like that for some time. As soon as we left the room, I bet he started thinking about what type of erson would have the balls to p dress him down like I did. And Katherine is going to tell him as soon as he asks her, which should be right about now."

"You might have made him im so angry, he won't help out of spite."

"I weighed that risk, but Pried ce is a bureaucrat. He can't afford a scandal. If someone is fucking around with one of his investigations, he won't like it." :"I hope you're right."

"We'll know soon enough."

"Dad, thanks. You put yourself out for me and I really appreciate it."

"I haven't done a thing. You're the one who's going the extra mile for a client and I'm very proud of you."

Peter's chest swelled and he felt a lump in his throat.

The elevator doors opened and Peter roll owed his father into the lobby.

"What are'your plans?" Richard asked.

Peter looked at his watch. It was after six.

it N "It's too late to drive back to Whitaker. I guess I'll get a room at a hotel and head back in the morning."

"Nonsense. We'll have dinner and you'll stay, with me. You can sleep in your old room."

"I'd like that," Peter said. He didn't know if his father realized it, but he had just given Peter the best present he had ever received.

Chapter TWENTY-NINE.

Peter was exhausted but happy when he pulled into his driveway the next evening. He and his father had not talked about the future, but it was obvious that they had 0 the together. Not right away. Peter still had a lot to prove to Richard, but the wall between them had come down.

As soon as he entered his house, Peter slapped together a quick dinner, showered and put on jeans and a sweatshirt. Then, he checked the TV listings for something completely mindless. Tomorrow morning, Peter planned to plunge back into the Harmon case with a vengeance. Tonight, he would relax and get a good rug s sleep.

The phone rang during the sitcom he was watching.

Peter turned down the sound. The voice on the other end of the phone was soft and indistinct, as if the speaker was trying to disguise it.

"Peter Hale?"

"Yes?"

"I'm only going to say this once, so pay close attention. If you want to find out the truth about Christopher Mammon and Sandra Whiley, take the highway east.

Eight point three miles from the WELCOME TO WHITAKER sign, there's a dirt road on the right. Drive down the road until you come to a barn. I'll be waiting. If you're not here by ten-thirty, I'll be gone. And come alone or I won't show."

The flatlands was a desolate stretch of cracked brown earth that began a few miles east of the Whitaker city limits. No one lived in the flatlands.

It was a place to drive through, not a place to visit in the dead of night.

As soon as the glow of the city lights faded away, Peter felt he was riding through a sea of ink. There was no moon and no other source of illumination but his headlights and the stars, which hid behind a cover of thick clouds. The highway was one lane east and west. The only trace of color was the broken white line that divided it. To the left and right the only variety was provided by an occasional tumbleweed or a patch of sagebrush.

Peter set his odometer as soon as he passed thewei, comrm -rowhitakersign. When it read eight point one, he slowed down and strained toward the side of the highway. The turnoff was more of a dirt track than a road and he almost missed it. The car started to buck as soon as it began traversing the narrow, rutted trail. Peter stared around nervously. His isolation was complete.

There was not even the broken white line to break up the monotonously bleak and barren landscape that loomed up in his headlights, then disappeared as he passed by.

After a while, Peter's headlights settled on a shape in the distance. As he drew closer, he made out the burned and rotting timbers of an abandoned barn. Peter wondered why anyone would have dreamed that farming was possible in this desert, but the thought was fleeting and it was replaced by a feeling of dread when he realized that there were no other cars in sight.

Peter kept the lights on and the motor running. There was a flashlight in the glove compartment He took it and stepped out of the car. It felt very strange to be out at night in a place where there was no artificial light.

Without the headlights, Peter would be in complete darkness.

A wind ripped across the flat, dry ground and knifed through Peter. He used his free hand to zip his windbreaker tight around his neck. Then he took a few steps from his car and stared hard at the barn. No shapes emerged, no lights flickered in its dark recesses.

Peter turned slowly in a circle. He strained for any sound, but there was only the low hum of the wind.

Nerves made Peter's stomach tighten. Maybe it would be for the best if no one did show. He was beginning to seriously question the wisdom of coming to this wasteland on the darkest of nights. He remembered the autopsy photographs of Sandra Whiley and the descriptions of the way the other victims had perished. It had to take time to die like that. He imagined the blade biting in, the pain, the terror.

"Have any trouble finding this place?"

Peter's heart streaked through his chest. He spun toward the voice, reflexively raising the flashlight like a weapon, but there was no one to strike. The area around him was black and empty.

Peter looked right and left as he tried to catch his breath. Suddenly, there was a break in the dark curtain that surrounded him. A blur became a vague shape and Christopher Mammon stepped out of the darkness.

Peter took a step back. Mammon watched him. Could he get into the car and lock the doors before Mammon got to him? Could he streak away and outdistance Mammon in the stygian darkness of this desert hunting ground?

"I hear you've been telling people that I killed Sandra Whiley."

Peter tried to talk, but he couldn't.

"Not smart. Everyone else thinks Gary Harmon murdered Whiley. If I did kill her, you'd be the only one who suspected it. It would be in my best interest to lure you to an isolated spot like this and get rid of you before you could cause any trouble."

Mammon let Peter think about that for a moment.

Then he took a step forward. There was something small and black in his hand. Peter's next step brought him hard against the side of the car. Mammon raised his hand and pointed the object at Peter. "Oh, God," Peter thought. "Don't let me die now. I'm not even thirty."

Then part of the object dropped down revealing something shiny.

"You can relax," Mammon said. "I'm not going to kill you. I'm a cop."

It took a moment for the words to register. About the same amount of time it took for Peter's brain to recognize the object in Mammon's hand as a leather carrying case for a badge. Peter sagged against his car. If it had not been there to hold him up, he would have sunk onto the dusty, rock-strewn ground.

"Now listen up," Mammon said. "If you want to learn the truth, I need a guarantee that you will never, ever tell anyone about this meeting."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm deep cover in an operation that has been going on for two years. As soon as we finish talking, I'm leaving this continent. No one at DEA will acknowledge my existence. You can file subpoena duces tecums until you're old and gray and you won't find a trace of me in any of the files you'll be searching. So you play this by my rules or I'm gone and you'll never know what happened to Sandra Whiley."

"I ... I've got no choice, then."

"That's right. And there's something else you sho I uld know. You and your father really pissed off a couple of people. I've got instructions from the top to stay as far away from you as I can."

"Then, why are you doing this?"

Mammon took a breath. For a moment, his hard features reflected doubt.

"It's Gary. That poor bastard. If it wasn't for me, he wouldn't be in this fix. I was hoping he'd be acquitted.

Then I could have forgotten him. But now.. . If he was executed, I would be to blame."

"What do you mean"

"Kevin Booth lived in Seattle for a while. An acquaintance of his worked for Rafael Vargas, who runs the cocaine in the Pacific Northwest for 'a Colombian cartel.

Kevin got to know Vargas and picked up pin money acting a a mule. When he decided to move back to Whitaker last year, Vargas asked him to set up a distribution network.

"About eight or nine months ago, Sandra Whiley was busted on her wa to deliver cocaine to a customer of y Booth. The locals had no idea who Booth worked for.

Whiley spilled everything. One of the Whitaker cops called the state police and they contacted us. OSP knew we were trying to find a way into the organization Vargas works for. We had been running into a stone wall until we got this break.

"I've been in deep cover for two years building a background and trying to make contacts. I was transferred here to get close to Booth and force him into a position where he had to introduce me to Vargas."

"Did Whiley know who you were?"

"No. We couldn't risk that. She thought I was working for organized crime. Her orders were to assist me so the DEA could bust me and Booth's group. The night Booth and I were arrested at Whitaker State, I was waiting for Whiley to bring me thirty thousand dollars to pay for the two kilos of coke that were found in the car. This buy was going to give me credibility when I negotiated for an amount large enough to bring Vargas into the open.

"Our arrest was bad luck and it came at a really bad time. I had -to stay credible in Vargas's eyes, so it was arranged for Booth to win his preliminary hearing and for me to lose mine."

"Wait a minute. What do you mean when you say it was arranged for Booth to win at the prelim?"

"That whole thing was a hoax. O'Shay was contacted by a higher-up in the Justice Department. He asked her to throw the prelim and she did."

Peter was stunned. He'd never heard of anything like this.

"Who was in on the fix?"

"O'Shay, Mancini and the judge."

"What about Earl Ridgely?"

"He was out of town for the week and O'Shay was asked to keep the whole thing from him. He's too much of a straight arrow to go along with fixing a court case.

She told the judge that she had Ridgely's approval, but that was a lie. Ridgely still doesn't know why Booth won his prelim. Even Booth didn't know.

"O'Shay, Mancini and the judge worked out a scenario that would provide a legal basis for cutting Booth free. I stayed in jail to make it look like I could be trusted, then I made bail.

"The night of the murder, I was meeting Booth to convince him to take over my part in the final stage of our plan to bring down Vargas. The plan worked. We not only caught him red-handed with twenty kilos of cocaine, but we have wiretaps and other evidence that implicate him in the importation and sale of many times that amount. Vargas knows he's facing life without possibility of parole. We hoped he would ' d cave and give us a way to get to the next level in the cartel. He broke three days ago."

Mammon paused. He looked embarrassed.

"When I arrived at the Stallion on the night of the murder, Harmon was sitting with Booth. I had to get rid of him, so I told him Karen Nix had the hots for him.

I'm the one who caused his argument with Nix. If I hadn't taken advantage of him, the poor bastard wouldn't have been convicted for a crime he didn't commit."

"How can you be so certain that Gary is innocent?"

"I know who killed Whiley."

"Who is it?" Peter asked anxiously.

"While Gary was arguing with Nix, I went outside and talked with Booth. While we were talking I saw Whiley follow a man to his car. They argued over something, then they drove off together. The man was a customer of Booth. Someone to whom Whiley had delivered cocaine. Steve Mancini."

"Oh, my God," Peter said. Everything made sense now. Whiley must have threatened Steve. Mancini could not afford a scandal with Mountain View's finances hanging in the balance. When Gary was arrested, it was a godsend, and Mancini did his best to make certain that Gary would be convicted by hooking up Peter with an inept investigator, sabotaging the motion to suppress and making certain that Gary was represented by a selfcentered, incompetent fool.

"You've got to testify for Gary."

"No. Not now. Maybe not ever."

"How can you refuse? Gary may die if you don't come forward."

"I'm leaving for South America tomorrow. If I stay and testify, my cover will be destroyed. I'm this close to being accepted by the cartel. If Mancini is going to be caught, you're the one who has to do I've risked my career by meeting you. I'm not going to destroy it."

"How am I going to prove any of this?"

"I don't know, Hale, but I hope to God you can."

Chapter THIRTY.

Peter had been sitting in Amos Geary's waiting room for half an hour when the office door opened. During that half hour, Clara Schoen had not spoken one word and the few times she stared in Peter's direction it had been to beam death rays at him. As soon as Geary stepped into the waiting room, Clara's head swiveled in his direction and her thin lips twitched in anticipation of the dressing-down Peter was certain to receive from her boss So, it was with astonishment that she saw Geary smile at the scoundrel whom he had so recently driven from their offices.

"Come on back," Geary said, as he walked past Peter.

Clara's mouth gaped open. Geary was almost out of sight when she remembered to remind him about his first court appearance.

"I know, Clara. Lenny Boudreau at ten-fifteen in judge Staley's court," Geary said without looking back.

Clara's mouth gaped wider. "Hold my calls until Peter and I are finished Geary closed the door behind them and went to his filing cabinet while Peter took a chair.

"Clara thinks I can't remember my schedule without her," Geary said as he pawed through his filing cabinet in search of the Boudreau file. "I let her keep thinking that way. It makes her feel needed."

Geary lit up as soon as he found the file. "Did Dick save the day?" he asked as he settled in behind his desk.

"No, but there has been a break of sorts in the case."

Geary filled the room with a dense cloud of smoke as Peter told him about the meeting at the U.S. Attorney's office, his encounter with Christopher Mammon and everything he knew about Steve Mancini.

"Mancini, huh?" Geary said thoughtfully when Peter finished. "I wouldn't put it past him."

"My problem is how to prove Steve killed Whiley without Mammon as a witness and how to get Gary a new trial on the grounds that O'Shay concealed exculpatory evidence. The justice Department has put a lid on this, so there's no way I can get the DEA reports without a major lawsuit, and O'Shay won't admit what she's, done. With Mammon gone, I've lost my key witness. There's also a good chance all copies of the reports have been destroyed."

"You definitely have problems," Geary agreed.

Peter sighed. "I've only got a few days before the penalty phase starts. There's got to be some way to show that Whiley was the CRI.` Peter suddenly noticed that Geary had a faraway look in his eyes and the hint of -a smile on his lips. The cigarette, forgotten for the moment, dangled from his n1cotinie-stained fingers, the ash flaking off the tip and falling onto his carpet. Suddenly, Geary chuckled.

"Rebecca fucked up."

"How?" Peter asked eagerly.

"Come on, think. If an old drunk like me can figure it out, a sober young stud like yourself should be able to crack this case in no time. I'll even give you a hint.

There's a witness who can bury O'Shay."

Peter went over everything he knew while Geary watched his struggle with glee. Finally, Peter gave up.

"Ah, me. The younger generation," Geary cackled.

"Stuff it, Amos. I've lost my sense of humor."

Geary sat up and blew a plume of smoke across the desk. Peter coughed.

"Lighten up, then listen up and I'll tell you how we're going to bust this case wide open."

Earl Ridgely looked surprised when he walked into the chambers of District Court judge Brett Staley with Becky O'Shay and saw Peter Hale and Amos Geary sitting next to the judge's desk.

"What's up, Brett?" Ridgely asked.

"Something pretty unpleasant, Earl. Why don't you and Miss O'Shay sit down and I'll let Mr. Hale explain."

O'Shay noticed that the judge had avoided eye contact with her. She looked at Peter warily, but said nothing.

"On Sunday, I made a very unsettling discovery, Mr. Ridgely," Peter said. "Almost by accident, I learned that Miss O'Shay has been withholding exculpatory evidence that casts the whole Harmon case in a different light."

"Earl, this is a crock," O'Shay said contemptuously.

"What really happened on Sunday is that Mr. Hale snuck into Kevin Booth's room at the hospital and was arrested. I'm preparing a bar complaint. I don't know what story he's concocted, but it's his way of trying to get back at me for reporting his conduct to the ethics committee."

"Why don't we hear what Peter has to say, Becky?" Ridgely said. O'Shay started to protest. Then, it suddenly dawned on her why they were meeting in judge Staley's chambers instead of judge Kuffel's and she turned pale.

"Becky has known for several months that Sandra Whiley was working as an informant for the DFA in a case involving Christopher Mammon, Kevin Booth, Rafael Vargas and a very violent Colombian drug cartel and she has intentionally concealed this information from the defense," Peter sraid.

"Is this true?" Ridgely asked her.

"Earl, this is nonsense," O'Shay answered angrily.

"I suppose I'd a so e crazy to suggest that you the Booth-Mammon prelim?" Peter said. "I'm sure your boss will be interested in knowing that you told judge Staley that he knew all about your deal with the justice Department."

"What deal?" Ridgely asked O'Shay.

"Miss O'Shay came to me with Steve Mancini and a Justice Department official from Washington, D.C before the preliminary hearing for Christopher Mammon and Kevin Booth," judge Staley answered. "She told me that you had approved a plan that involved my dismissal of Kevin Booth's case at the hearing so that a federal undercover operation would not be endangered."

"I what!"

e "You did assure me that your scheme had Mr. Ridge ly's approval, didn't you, Miss O'Shay?" judge Staley asked.

"Earl, there was no time to track you down," O'Shay said desperately. "We shouldn't even be discussing this.

We could be endangering a major undercover operation."

s "Will someone explain what's going on here?" Ridgely asked.

"The feds were monitoring a drug deal that was sup "S posed to go down on the Whitaker State campus," Peter explained. "The deal was being used to help an under cover agent infiltrate a Colombian drug cartel. Then, the e campus security guards screwed everything up by arrest ,e in Booth and Mammon.

g "You were out of town on vacation, so Becky was -a contacted by the DEA. They wanted her to get Booth n back on the street. The feds concocted a plan to fix Booth's prelim. Becky lied to judge Staley and said she'd cleared everything with you.

"When Gary was arrested for Whiley's murder, Becky knew Whiley was an informant. She'd been briefed by the DEA and she even sent Steve Mancini two DEA reports about the Whitaker State case when they worked up the hoax. I found out about the reports by accident and she convinced Steve to destroy them and deny he'd ever seen them. She knew judge Kuffel would have to throw out Gary's conviction if he learned about her cover-up."

"I don't believe this," Ridgely said incredulously.

"There's more and it's worse than what I've told you.

Peter paused and looked directly at O'Shay. He was about to bluff and he hoped O'Shay could not tell how, scared he was that he had guessed wrong.

"Steve Mancini has been sabotaging Gary Harmon's defense from the beginning of this case. His last act was destroying the reports, but he had done several other things to make certain Gary was convicted. What I couldn't understand was why he would want to send his brother-in-law to death row. But Becky knows the answer to that riddle, don't you?"

"I ... I don't know what you're talking about."

"Why would Steve destroy the DEA reports for you, Becky? Why would you trust him to do that instead of running to me with evidence that would win Gary a new trial? You knew that Steve had a reason to want Gary convicted.

You knew that Steve had to obey you or risk exposure. You knew that Steve Mancini was with Sandra Whiley right before she was murdered."

"Is this true?" Ridgely demanded.

"What does all this matter?" O'Shay implored Ridgely. "Harmon's guilty. How did he know that the victim had been at the Stallion hours before anyone knew Whiley's identity, if he didn't kill her?"

"I talked with Gary before I set up this meeting to see if I could figure out how he knew some of the things he d seemed to know. The morning that the body was found was the morning that Steve was married. He drove Gary T to the church. They passed by the park and saw the pay lice cars. Donna remembered that Gary was excited by all the activity. He probably asked Steve why there were d it police all over the park. I'm betting Steve slipped and said some girl who'd been at the Stallion last night had been murdered.

"I also spoke to Wilma Polk. Her, husband was at the x crime scene. He told Mrs. Polk that the man who killed Whiley chopped her up with a hatchet.

Mrs. Polk told her friend about the killer using a hatchet when they were at the food table at the reception following the wedding. Mrs. Polk remembers Gary standing next to s her and listening intently to what she said.

"And the placement of the blows. Before Bob Patrick tricked Gary with the black light, he showed him several autopsy photos of Whiley's head wounds.

"There are reasonable explanations for a lot of the evidence that incriminates Gary, but you weren't interested in the truth, were you, Becky?"

"I ... I thought it was Gary. I still do. I didn't know that Steve was with Whiley that night until I debriefed Booth. He saw them together at the Stallion."

"And you told Booth to keep his mouth shut," Peter said accusingly.

"I couldn't tell you. The jury would never have conviqed if it knew about Whiley being an informant and Steve being with her right before she was killed. There would have been too many other suspects. And Steve swore he didn't kill her."

"You still don't understand what you've done, do you?" Peter asked, amazed by O'Shay's continued defiance. "You still don't see that you've done something terribly wrong. How could you blind yourself to the possibility that Steve killed Whiley when it was right in front of you? How could you .. ."

All of a sudden Peter knew why O'Shay had shielded Steve. He remembered the way Steve and Becky acted when they were together, he recalled a cryptic re mark Becky had made at the wedding reception when Peter asked her how she knew Steve.

"Did Steve swear he was innocent while you were having sex or after you were finished screwing?" Peter asked O'Shay.

Becky's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"

"Are you denying that you've been sleeping with Steve Mancini?"

Earl Ridgely stared at O'Shay with a growing sense of horror.

"If Earl learned that you lied to judge Staley in order to fix the prelim and that you were secretly sleeping with a defense attorney against whom you've tried cases, he would have fired you on the spot. Did you keep quiet about Mancini because he threatened to expose you?" Peter asked.

"No, no, it wasn't like that. As soon as Kevin Booth told me he had seen Steve with Whiley at the Stallion I confronted Steve. He swore he was innocent. Then, he reminded me of ... of something I should have remembered. Steve and I ... Well, uh, we've been together off and on since I moved to Whitaker. And, well ... We'd made plans to spend the evening before his wedding together."

"What!" Peter said.

"You don't think Steve married Donna Harmon for love, do you?" O'Shay said scornfully. "He was worried about Mountain View and he figured Jesse Harmon would come through with a sizable investment once he was married to Jesse's daughter."

"That son of a bitch," Peter said. Amos Geary put a restraining hand on Peter's arm.

"You were telling us how you knew Mr. Mancini was innocent, Miss O'Shay," Geary prodded. "Why don't you continue."

"Steve was with me the night Whiley was killed. He showed up around midnight. He seemed upset. When I -k asked, he said it was because Gary had been in some r trouble at the Stallion.

"Later, I confronted him about Booth seeing him with T Whiley. He admitted it was true. He said Whiley was at the Stallion. When he left, she cornered him. It was in the parking lot. She was almost hysterical. She told him she had to leave town. She was scared to death of Christopher Mammon. Whiley thought he was in jail. Then .h she saw him in the Stallion. Whiley thought Mammon )f would suspect her of setting him up at Whitaker State and kill her.

"She was making a scene, so Steve told her to get in ,r his car. They drove around for a while. She demanded h e money from Steve so she could run away. He tried to reason with her, but she was irrational. She said she would tell everyone Steve was using cocaine if he didn't give her money. She even threatened to crash his wedding.

"Steve told her he had some money at his office. He didn't want to be seen with her so he dropped her at the entrance to Wishing Well Park and said he'd meet her at the well as soon as he got the money."

.f "When did he say he dropped off Whiley?"

"Eleven-fifty. He checked his watch because he was supposed to come to my place around midnight."

Peter controlled his excitement. The bartender at the Ponderosa had testified that Gary came into the bar at eleven fifty-three or eleven fifty-four. If everyone's times were accurate, it would be impossible for Gary to be the killer.

"What did Steve say happened next?"

"He. said he went to his office, picked up every penny he could find, which was about three thousand dollars in cash, and went right back to the park. Steve said he parked on a side street and walked over. He saw someone running away from the well when he approached.

At first, he thought it was Whiley. Then, he saw her body."

"When did you learn all this?" Earl Ridgely asked in a tone that made it clear that he was having trouble believing what he was hearing.

"Right before Booth was set on fire."

"And ... and you kept this to yourself) You made that poor bastard and his family go through a trial for e murder when you knew h wasn't guilty` Ridgetv asked as he looied at O'Shay with disgust.

"I didn't know that. Steve denied killing Whiley-and I believed him. I still think Gary committed the murder."

"How could you?" Ridgely demanded. "Whiley was blackmailing Mancini, he was at the park with her at the time of the killing. My God, are'you an idiot?"

"No, Earl. I'm sure he didn't kill her. I remembered the suit he was wearing when he came to my house. I'd seen him in it earlier in the day. It was the same suit and the same tie. The same shoes. I confirmed that he was wearing the suit at the Stallion by checking with Karen Nix, the bartenders and some other witnesses."

O'Shay paused and breathed deeply. She stared at the floor when she spoke.

"I ... I undressed Steve that night. I saw his shirt, his suit. The killer would have had blood all over him and there wasn't a drop of blood on Steve Mancini."

Chapter THIRTY-ONE.

The Harmons sat in the front row of the courtroom.

Peter had told them to come to court, but little else, because he did not want to get their hopes up. Steve Mancini sat in a row behind the Harmons on the other side of the courtroom. A deputy sheriff had served him a subpoena while he was eating breakfast. Mancini wondered why Earl Ridgely was sitting alone at thep'rosecution table. He was not aware that Becky O'Shay was in a jail cell charged with tampering with a witness and official misconduct.

Gary Harmon looked desperate when the guards led him into judge Kuffel's courtroom. He was twitching from nerves and had not slept.

"Please get me out of 'all, Pete," he begged as soon as he was seated between Peter and Amos Geary, "I'm scared there. I just want to go home."

"Wellyou might be doing just that, Gary. So, try to calm down."

While Peter was talking to Gary, judge Kuffel emerged from chambers carrying the motion for a new trial that Peter had hastily prepared after the meeting in judge Staley's chambers. He looked perplexed.

"You're joining in this motion, Mr. Ridgely?" the judge asked to make sure he understood correctly what he had just read.

"Yes, Your Honor. In light of certain matters that have come to my attention, I believe that the interests of justice require the court to set aside the guilty verdict against Mr. Harmon."

The judge still looked puzzled. He wondered where Becky O'Shay was and why Amos Geary was sitting with Peter Hale.

"What's the basis for this motion, Mr. Hale?" judge Kuffel asked.

"I think my first witness will clear up your confusion, Your Honor."

"Very well, call the witness."

"Mr. Harmon calls Kevin Booth."

Yesterday afternoon, after the meeting in judge Staley's chambers, Earl Ridgely, Peter Hale, Amos Geary and a detective from the Oregon State Police had interviewed Booth at the hospital. Booth was brought into court in a wheelchair and allowed to testify from it. He was wearing a hospital gown and a bathrobe.

"Mr. Booth," Peter said, after the witness was sworn, you have already testified in the case of State v. Harmon, have you not?"

"Yes.

"Was the testimony that you gave in Portland truthful testimony?"

"One second here, Mr. Hale," judge Kuffel said.

"You're asking this man if he committed perjury. If he says he lied, he's admitting to a crime."

"That's true, Your. Honor. But Mr. Booth is also testifying under a grant of immunity from prosecution for any false testimony given in Mr. Harmon's case, a promise that he will not be prosecuted for his part in the incident at Whitaker State College and a promise from state and federal authorities that he will not be prosecuted for his part in the crime that led to his arrest at his home."

Peter did not tell the judge that the cooperation from the feds had been obtained when Earl Ridgely threat- T ened to go public with what he knew about the rigged preliminary hearing and the undercover operation against the Colombian cartel.

"Very well. Proceed."

"Mr. Booth, I repeat, did you testify truthfully in this case?"

"When you said that Gary Harmon discussed his case with you at the Whitaker jail, was that true?"

"Yes."

"Did.Mr. Harmon ever tell you that he murdered Sandra Whitey?"

"No. He said he didn't do it."

"Why did you lie about what Mr. Harmon told you?"

"I was scared I'd go to prison on my federal drug charge, so I had to make a deal. It was my only way out."

"The prosecutor in Mr. Harmon's case is Rebecca O'Shay. Did you worry about her learning that you were lying about Mr. Harmon's guilt?"

"No. She wanted Harmon convicted."

"Mr. Booth, did Ms. O'Shay instruct you to conceal from the defense certain information that would have cast doubt on Mr. Harmon's guilt, if made known to the jury?"

"Yeah."

"What was one thing she didn't want you talking about?"

"Whitey was a cokehead and she bought from me.

She didn't have a lot of money, so sometimes she had to work off her debt. On the evening I was busted at Whitaker State with Chris Mammon, Whitey was late bringing thirty thousand dollars to the meet. When we were arrested, Mammon thought Whitey set us up. He told me he was going to kill her, if he found out it was true."

"And you told Ms. O'Shay about the threat?"

"Yeah. She knew Mammon was at the Stallion at the same time as Whitey on the night of the murder. I thought she'd be interested, but she said Harmon did it and I wasn't to tell anyone that Mammon knew Whiley."

"Did Ms. O'Shay tell you to keep quiet about anything else?"

Booth located Steve Mancini and his scarred lips twisted into a malicious grin.

"Yeah. I told her I saw Steve Mancini drive off with Sandra Whiley from the Stallion on the evening that Whiley was killed."

Donna put her hand over her mouth. Jesse Harmon fixed Mancini with a look of pure hatred. Mancini looked around nervously. He started to stand, but stopped when he noticed the armed guards that Earl Ridgely had stationed inside the courtroom doors.

"What happened when you told this information to Ms. O'Shay?"

"She said I'd better forget about it or she'd see I spent therest of my life in prison."

"Did Mr. Mancini know Sandra Whiley before the evening of the murder?"

"Sure. Mancini bought cocaine from me. Whiley delivered it to him at his office and his house a few times.

One time, she told me she had sex with Mancini for some of the blow."

Mancini had broken out in a sweat. His eyes darted around the courtroom, desperately seeking a way out.

"No further questions, Mr. Booth."

"Mr. Ridgely?" the judge asked.

"No questions."

"Do you have another witness, Mr. Hale?"

Peter faced the spectator section and said, "We call Steve Mancini, Your Honor."

"I didn't kill her," Mancini shouted.

judge Kuffel pounded his gavel. Mancini froze. The judge glared at him, then said, "You've been called as a witness, Mr. Mancini. Please come forward."

Mancini hesitated. He looked around at the accusing eyes that stared at him from every corner of the room.

'rhen, he walked unsteadily to the witness box. Peter looked directly at Mancini, but Steve would not look back.

"On the evening that Sandra Whiley was murdered, did you drive away from the Stallion tavern with her?" Peter asked. , "I'm ... I want to speak to a, lawyer," Mancini said in a trembling voice.

"Mr. Hale, I'm going to have to adjourn this hearing so Mr. Mancini can consult with counsel. From what I've heard here, he may need one."

Peter knew this would happen and he did not object.

Mancini started to stand up. Ridgely signaled to two police officers, who approached Mancini.

"I have a warrant for your arrest, Mr. Mancini," Ridgely said.

Steve froze. "Hey, Earl, this isn't true. I didn't kill her."

Ridgely ignored him. "Please bring Mr. Mancini to the jail," he told the officers. "See he's read his Miranda rights and is allowed to call an attorney."

"Earl," Mancini -begged, but Ridgely turned his back on him and Mancini was led out of the courtroom.

"May Mr. Harmon be released into the custody of his parents, Your Honor?" Peter asked, as soon as the courtroom had quieted down.

"That would be highly unusual. He's been convicted of aggravated murder."

Earl Ridgely stood slowly and addressed the court.

"Rebecca O'Shay is not present today because she is under arrest. Ms. O'Shay intentionally concealed crucial evidence from the defense. Evidence which casts grave doubt on Mr. Harmon's guilt.

I "I haven't had time to investigate this case thoroughly in light of the new information that the court has just heard, but I know enough to feet that justice will be served best by releasing Mr. Harmon into the custody of his parents while I sort everything out."

judge Kuffel pursed his lips and considered the request.

"Very well," he said "Mr. Harmon, I am ordering your release to the custody of your parents. There will be certain conditions you will have to follow, which I will devise after consultation with counsel. Do you follow what I'm saying?"

Gary looked scared and uncertain. He turned to Peter.

"He's sending you home, Gary," Peter said.

Gary's mouth opened for a moment. Then it formed into a wide smile.

"I'm going home?" he asked as if he could not believe it.

Peter could not help smiling back. "Yeah, Gary, you're going home."

Gary's eyes shone. Then he whooped and threw his arms around Peter.

"You're a good lawyer, Pete. You're the best lawyer.

You made them _ send me home."

judge Kuffel started to gavel for order. Then he thought better of it and lay the gavel down. Peter stood helpless and speechless in Gary's embrace, blushing wildly.

Chapter THIRTY-TWO.

"Will you have another piece of pie, Peter?" Alice Harmon asked.

"Mrs. Harmon, if I eat one more slice of your apple pie, I'll explode."

"I believe I can fit in another piece somewhere," Amos Geary said.

"Gary, hand me Amos's plate, please," Alice told her son. When Gary picked up the plate his back was to Alice Harmon and he did not see how his mother beamed.

Donna stood up and turned to Peter.

"I'm going to get some fresh air. Do you want to join me?"

"Sure."

Donna opened the screen door and led Peter onto the front porch of her parents' house. It was mid-September, the sun was almost down and the night air was nippy.

Donna and Peter both wore sweaters. They walked into the front yard. Donna wrapped her arms around herself as she strolled slowly next to the white board fence that ran along the edge of the Harmons' property.

"It's so great having Gary home," Donna said. "You can't believe the change in Mom and Dad."

"It's not over yet," Peter cautioned. "We still have to get the charges dismissed."

"They won't send him back," Donna said confidently.

"They couldn't. Mr. Ridgely is too decent a man."

They walked in silence for a while. Then, Donna said, "It is amazing how everything conspired to make Gary took so guilty. His overhearing Wilma Polk, O'Shay telling Booth about the Crusader's Cross and Steve letting it slip that the dead woman was at the Stallion .. ."

"That's why Earl's going to go slowly before he charges anyone else. He won't want to make another mistake."

"Who do you think killed Sandra Whiley?" Donna asked when they reached the large oak that shaded the front lawn.

"I don't know. I really haven't given it that much thought. In the movies, the defense attorney always saves his client by figuring out who the killer is. In real life, defense attorneys really don't care. I've spent this whole case trying to counter the state's evidence in order to raise a reasonable doubt. I mean, it would be great if I did prove who killed Sandra Whiley, but as long as I can convince Earl that he should set Gary free, I've done my job."

"You must have some idea. What about Christopher Mammon? I heard that he's disappeared.

"Mammon is definitely not the killer."

"How can you be so certain?"

"In order to tell you, I'd have to break a promise I made. just trust me. I know it's not Mammon," Donna turned her back to Peter and bowed her head.

"If Christopher Mammon isn't guilty, then Steve probably is."

"I guess that's true," Peter answered thoughtfully.

"He's certainly the most likely suspect. "We just learned that his first wife left him because he also beat her, so he clearly has a propensity for violence. The problem with the case against Steve is Becky O'Shay's evidence."

Peter caught himself. Donna turned toward him and he turned red.

"I'm sorry.. ." he started, but Donna shook her head.

"Don't be. I'm glad I found out that he screwed her on the night before our wedding. It relieves me of any lingering doubts I may have had about Steve."

They walked on in silence until Donna asked, "Will you be moving back to Portland when you've wrapped up Gary's case?"

"No. I was really thoughtless leaving Amos shorthanded, so I'm going back to work for him tomorrow. I don't think I'll stay in criminal law forever, but it is sort of exciting."

"I'm glad you'll be around," Donna said, looking directly into Peter's eyes. Peter hesitated for a second.

Then he reached out and took her hand.

"There's another reason I'm sticking around Whitaker."

Peter waited for Donna to pull free. When she didn't, he said, "I don't know if this is the right time to say this.

You're going through so much right now and I'm still trying to figure out who I am and what I want. There are a lot of things about me you don't know, too. Things you might not like."

"We don't have to rush, Peter. Now that you're staying in town, we can take -our time. Let's just see how thingswork out. Okay?"

Then Donna kissed him. It was a soft kiss, but it stunned Peter. Donna rested her head on his shoulder and they held each other in the dark. Peter had never made a commitment to a woman before. Even thinking about it was a little scary. Was he capable of being true to one person? He thought he might be able to do it. He had done some pretty amazing things since arriving in Whitaker.

"You look pretty satisfied with yourself," Amos Geary said when they were on their way back to town in PCTER's car.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked self-consciously.

He had been reliving his kiss with Donna.

"She's not someone to play with. Donna's been through a lot. If you're not serious about her, don't start anything."

"Jesus, Amos, give me some credit, will you," Peter protested.

"Given your track record, I decided to be blunt."

"Hey, the old Peter is gone."

"We'll see."

They drove on in silence for a while. Peter drifted back to thoughts of love, but Geary was thinking*about something else. After a while, he let out a long breath.

"What?" Peter asked.

"I was thinking about that poor girl. The police have lost so much time that I don't think they'll ever catch Whiley's killer."

"We know it's not Mammon. I haven't ruled out Steve, but it's pretty unlikely that he killed her if O'Shay is telling the truth."

"Which she may not be doing. just thinking about O'Shay makes me sick."

"Something just occurred to me Ridgely should check on Steve's alibi for the time when those other two women were killed. With all the excitement, we forgot that the person who killed Whiley probably killed them, too."

"Earl's no dummy. I'm sure he's already thought about seeing if he can tie Mancini into the other killings.

I'll say one thing-whoever committed those murders is one sick son of a bitch. Killing someone is bad enough, but butchering a defenseless woman with a hatchet, like she was some kind of farm animal.

Geary lapsed into silence at the thought of such senseless slaughter. Suddenly, Peter pulled the car over to the side of the road. Geary wasn't wearing a seat belt and he was thrown forward. Fortunately, he caught the dashboard with his hands.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Geary shouted.

Peter wasn't listening. He looked stunned.

"Hale, are you having some sort of yuppie fn? Talk to me.71 Peter turned slowly. He looked pale.

"The hatchet. My God, I didn't even think ... We've got to go to the office and look up something in Mammon's file."

"What are you talking about?"

Instead of answering, Peter hit the accelerator and Geary was thrown back into his seat.

"I'll explain on the way," Peter said, as Geary hurriedly fastened his seat belt.

"Is this where we turn?" Peter asked.

"I'm not certain," Geary answered.

"I thought you lived here most of your life."

"I'm a lawyer, not a goddamn surveyor. Now, shut up and give me a minute."

Geary studied a map of Whitaker and the surrounding area while Peter impatiently drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Okay. This is the road that was listed in the police report in Mammon's file."

Peter drove a mile up an unpaved, dirt track. There was a full moon and they soon saw the object of their search. Peter stopped in front of the dilapidated house.

"You're sure this is legal?" Peter asked.

"It's not legal. It's breaking and entering. But we aren't working for the government, so Earl can use any evidence we find at trial while we are serving our sentence for burglary."

"Thanks for clearing that up. I feel much better now," Peter said, as he tried the door. It wasn't locked. Peter had brought along a flashlight, but Geary flipped on a light switch and he didn't need it.

"Looks like the electricity is still paid up," Geary commented.

"God! What's that smell?"

Both men winced as a sour and fetid odor assailed them. It was the essence of the decay that permeated the house. Flies buzzed around rotting pizza crusts and decomposing cheese that hung on the sides of oil-stained pizza boxes. Unwashed clothes lay in clumps on the couch.

"This place is a fucking sty," Peter declared.

"Let's search it fast, so we can get out of here," Geary said.

They split up, Peter taking the bedroom and bathroom and Geary searching the living room and kitchen.

The search did not take long, since the house was so small.

"Anything?" Peter asked.

"Not a thing," Geary answered when they both finished.

"I was so sure."

"Your reasoning is sound. He probably killed the women somewhere else."

"I guess," Peter answered dejectedly.

Peter walked outside. Geary turned out the lights and shut the door. Peter was about to get in the car when he froze.

A "What's that?" he asked.

Geary looked where Peter was pointing. Another house could barely be made out in the moonlight.

"It's worth a look now that we're out here."

The two men turned on their flashlights and walked a dusty quarter mile. It was not until they reached the shack that they could tell it was deserted, but there was a padlock on the door.

"What do we do now?" Peter asked.

Geary raised his foot and kicked the door with all the force his near three hundred pounds could bring to the task. The rotting door splintered and gave. A second kick and it swung inward. An odor, different and more foul than the one they had smelled in the other house, assailed Peter when he crossed the threshold. He clamped his hand over his mouth and moved the flashlight beam around the interior of the shack.

"Holy shit!" he whispered when the beam found the bloodstained mattress pushed up against the far wall.

Geary was speechless. Peter moved his beam around the floor and gagged when he realized that almost every square inch was encrusted with dried blood.

"Peter," Amos called. Peter looked at the corner of the room that Geary's beam was illuminating. He saw piles of women's clothes, a purse and two wallets.

"What do you want to bet that one of those wallets belongs to Sandra Whiley?" Geary asked.

"If you're right, I'm not going to be the one who discovers it. Let's get out of here and call the police."

Kevin Booth was asleep when Earl Ridgely entered his hospital room followed by members of the Major Crime Team. He stirred when the nurse turned on the lights, then sat up.

"What's going on?" Booth asked, rubbing his eyes as he searched for the clock. Then he saw how many people were in his room.

"I have a few questions for you, Kevin," Ridgely said.

"It's three in the morning, for Christ's sake. Can't this wait?"

"Actually, no." Ridgely pulled a chair next to Booth's bed. "But I promise not to take up too much of your time. First, though, I'm going to give you your Miranda rights."

Ridgely took a laminated card out of his wallet and read Booth his rights. Booth looked at Ridgely as if the D.A. was insane.

"What is this?" Booth asked when Ridgely was through.

"Can you explain why Sandra Whiley's wallet and the clothing of Emily Curran and Diane Fetter were found in a shack less than a quarter mile from your house and by the floor of the shack was covered with blood?"

w "What ... what are you talking about? What shack?"

"Kevin, at this very moment, fingerprint technicians are going over every inch of the shack and forensic experts are combing it for hair, fibers and other trace evidence."

"Well, you won't find anything belonging to me in some fucking blood-covered shack. I don't know what you think you've got, but you ain't got shit connecting me to no murders."

"Actually," Ridgely said, "we've got quite a lot. For instance, Curran and Fetter both had a lot of cocaine in their system when they died. Background checks on both women showed that they used cocaine frequently.

I think you supplied both women with cocaine and lured them to your house with promises of free drugs. I think you got them high, then raped and killed them."

"You can think all you want."

also think you made one monumental error. Peter Hale explained it to me. It's so obvious that I feel really stupid for missing it."

Ridgely waited for Booth to say something. When' he didn't, Ridgely continued.

"You were terrified when you were arrested with Rafael Vargas. Not only were you facing serious federal time, but Vargas threatened to kill you, the feds refused to bargain with you and Steve Mancini wouldn't represent you. That's when you decided to trade testimony against Gary Harmon for a deal that would keep you out of prison. You gained Gary's confidence and tricked him into telling you all of the details of the murder of Sandra Whiley that he told the police. Since you killed Whiley, you were able to add some extra information that made the confession sound real, but that wasn't enough for Becky O'Shay.

She knew that no jury would ever buy your story without corroboration, so she told you that you wouldn't get a deal unless you could provide proof that Gary confessed.

"You were in a panic, going through withdrawal and not really thinking straight. O'Shay was about to walk out on you and O'Shay was your last chance, so you told her something that only the killer would know. You told her where to find the hatchet you used to murder Curran, Fetter and Whiley. The hatchet you threw in the storm drain because you were afraid that Steve Mancini might have seen you running from the murder scene.

"Gary Harmon couldn't have told you where the murder weapon was hidden. It was impossible for him to have killed Whiley. He was at the Ponderosa when the murder occurred. If Gary didn't tell you it was in a storm drain near the Whitaker campus, how did you know?"

Booth stared wide-eyed at Ridgely, then scanned the stone-hard faces of the men who ringed his bed.

"I want a lawyer," he said finally. "I want a lawyer."

Ridgely nodded. "I figured that's what you'd want, Mr. Booth, and I think you're wise to ask for one, because if anyone needs a lawyer right now, you do."