The Associate

14

The call from Joan McCann came at eleven o'clock. To Martin, she sounded like a woman on the brink of hysteria.

"I'm calling from my car. I'm following Paul. You've got to help me."

"How can you be following Paul? He's in jail."

"The judge dismissed his case, this morning. They sneaked him out of jail because they were afraid of you. Then . . . then he beat me up. He said things to me . . ."

She started to cry. Martin did not understand half of what she said, but he understood that Paul McCann was leaving town without his wife.

"He killed Patty. I can prove it."

Now Martin was completely focused.

"How do you know that?"

"Mr. Flynn came back an hour ago. He was very upset. He took Paul into the den, but I listened at the door. Someone called Aaron at home and said he had Melissa's notes and the disks. He wanted two hundred thousand dollars for them. Aaron told him it wasn't a scam. When Patty was murdered, she was wearing a topaz ring you'd given her for your anniversary, right?"

Martin's heart lurched. He remembered Patty's exclamation of joy when she saw the present and recalled the kiss she'd given him.

"Yes, she was wearing the ring. The police held back that information. How did you know?"

"Aaron told Paul that the caller described it."

"What did Paul say to Flynn?"

"He was angry. He claimed he didn't have two hundred thousand dollars. He said he thought the caller was a con artist. They argued for a while. Then Mr. Flynn left. As soon as he was gone, Paul started packing. I asked him what he was doing and he told me to shut up. He . . . he said I made him sick, that he was leaving me for good."

Joan burst into sobs again and Martin waited for her to calm down.

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you to stop him. Before he gets the money and escapes."

"What money?"

"The ransom money."

"How do you know he has it?"

"He's going to Laurel Canyon State Park, to the caves. He must have hidden it there. Why else would he go to the park in the middle of the night? If he has the ransom money, Mr. Alvarez, he killed Patty."

"Why are you calling me? Why aren't you calling the police?"

"I don't want him arrested. I want him dead."

Laurel Canyon State Park was a twisting, turning maze of dry riverbeds and towering cliffs that was known to rock climbers all over the world. At the base of some of these cliffs were caves. There was a parking area near the entrance and Martin found Joan McCann parked at the far end of the lot where she'd told him she'd be. McCann's car was at the head of a trail that led down to the caves.

"He has a fifteen-minute head start. You'd better hurry. He's on the Bishop's Point trail. It's where he proposed to me," Joan added bitterly.

Martin had been to the park many times and knew the trails by heart. He put his gun in the waistband of his pants and grabbed a flashlight before starting on a path that led up to Bishop's Point, a lookout spot with an awesome view, and wound down to the desert floor, where there were several caves.

It took twenty minutes to reach the base of the cliff along the narrow footpath. Martin switched on the flashlight for a few seconds and played it over the rock-strewn floor at the foot of the cliff face. Then he walked toward the mouth of the nearest cave. There were large boulders on both sides of the entrance. Martin edged around one rock formation and peered into the cave hoping to see the beam of Paul's flashlight, but there was only stygian darkness.

"You son of a bitch," McCann screamed, just before he cracked Martin's cheekbone with his pistol. Martin staggered backward and swung the flashlight. It caught McCann on a raised forearm but didn't stop him. McCann aimed a punch at Martin's wound. The pain was blinding. A kick to the knee knocked Martin's legs out from under him and sent him to the ground. He tried to get up, but McCann kicked him in the ribs, then stomped on his head. Just when Martin thought he would pass out the beating stopped.

McCann collected Martin's automatic from the ground, where he'd dropped it after the first, surprise blow. Martin was certain that there were broken bones in his face. His ribs stung, but he didn't think they were broken. He struggled into a sitting position.

"Did Joan tell you I was coming here?" McCann asked in a hate-filled voice.

Martin held his tongue. McCann glared at him.

"It doesn't matter. You're not here because of that bitch. You're here for the money. Well, you'll see the money, all right. You're going to dig for it. Then you and I are both going to disappear. Now get up."

He gestured with the pistol and Martin made it to his feet with only one minor stumble. McCann pointed the flashlight beam into the cave and Martin preceded him inside. It was cold, but Martin was in too much pain to notice. The cave was deep and the roof, which was about nine feet high at the entrance, quickly dropped, so that they were soon moving forward in a half crouch. After they had walked for fifteen minutes the roof rose dramatically and they found themselves in a high-ceilinged chamber. McCann told Alvarez to stop in front of a large pile of rocks that looked as if they had been undisturbed for centuries.

"Start digging. The bag is at the bottom of that mess. It took me almost two hours to put it there."

McCann propped the flashlight on a mound of rocks on the other side of the cave so that it pointed at the pile that concealed the money. Martin started throwing rocks from the top of the pile off to one side. Every movement hurt, but digging in the rock pile was keeping him alive and giving him time to think.

After a while McCann eased himself into a sitting position against the far wall. His gun was aimed at Martin, who was certain it would soon grow heavy. As he dug he kept an eye out for a few heavy rocks. Every time he spotted one, he moved it to a spot where he could grab it quickly.

Martin's chance came after he had been working for half an hour. The barrel of the handgun wobbled then sagged downward. Then McCann leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a second. Martin was moving before he opened them. The first rock hit McCann in the forehead. He screamed and fired, but he wasn't aiming. Martin was on him before he could focus, smashing down with a second rock that sent McCann's head ricocheting off the wall, stunning him. A moment later Martin had the gun.

"Look around you, Paul," Alvarez said when he was certain that McCann was fully conscious of his situation. "This cave is where your body is going to rot."

McCann paled.

"You should be happy. I'm going to bury you with your blood money. You'll have an eternity to spend it in hell."

Anger suffused Martin's features as he aimed the gun.

"Goddamn you for killing Patty," he said, but he never pulled the trigger. Another gun fired from behind Martin. The explosion reverberated in the cave. Martin pitched forward, unconscious.

Chapter Thirty.

"I don't know how much time passed before I regained consciousness," Alvarez said. "When I came to I wished I hadn't."

He paused for a moment, reliving the agony of those moments.

"How did you get out of the cave?" Kate asked.

"Joan McCann brought the police. She was attacked while she was waiting for me."

"Who . . . ?"

"She doesn't know. The person was wearing a mask. He put a gun to her head and forced her to tell where I'd gone, then she was knocked out. When she came to I hadn't returned, so she called the police. I was barely alive when the search party found me and Paul."

"McCann was still there?"

"He was dead, shot between the eyes. The ransom money was gone."

"Did Aaron Flynn have an alibi?"

"He was never a suspect. Six months later he quietly left town. I had no idea where he'd moved until today."

"Did anyone else connected with the case move away?"

"Joan. She left within three months. She visited me several times at the hospital while I was recuperating. The last time, she told me that she couldn't stay in Desert Grove any longer."

"Was there a theory about the identity of Paul McCann's killer?"

"No. I'm certain that McCann and Lester Dobbs killed Patty, and that the same person murdered McCann and Dobbs. In the end, the most widely accepted theory was that an outsider was behind the plot."

"Do you believe that?"

"Absolutely not," Alvarez said, his voice as hard as granite.

"What happened to Gene Arnold?"

"I hired the best criminal lawyer in Arizona to represent Gene. He convinced Ramon that there wasn't enough evidence to hold him. It was obvious to everyone that Melissa's clothing and the car had been planted at the cabin. The crime lab was all over the place and couldn't find any evidence that Melissa or Gene had been there recently. Melissa's body was never recovered, so there was no forensic evidence connecting Gene to the murder. All they had were the arguments and Ramon wasn't going to prosecute Gene on the basis of a few domestic spats."

"Were there any new developments after you were shot?"

"Not until now."

"Can you think of anything else that might help, Mr. Alvarez?"

After a moment Martin shook his head. "You realize, of course, that Gene's death may have nothing to do with what happened here. It was a long time ago."

"That's true, but Aaron Flynn . . . The coincidence bothers me."

"Life is full of coincidences."

Kate stood and extended her hand. "Thanks for seeing me."

Alvarez took her hand and held it for a moment before releasing it. Kate handed him her card.

"If you think of anything else, please call me."

Martin nodded just as his assistant appeared on the patio.

"Anna will see you to your car. Good luck."

_ _ _

Martin Alvarez watched Kate Ross cross the terrace. Though she looked nothing like Patty, the investigator reminded him of her. They both had the same purposeful stride, and Patty had always shown a core of strength that he sensed in Kate Ross. Alvarez closed his good eye and rubbed his temples. There were times when he imagined that his wife was still with him, taking her morning ride, just out of sight and soon to return. Thoughts like that were calming, like a belief that he and Patty would be reunited in a life after death.

There were other times when memories of Patty stoked an impotent rage. It was that rage that was building as Martin entered the hacienda and went to his office. As soon as he closed his door he picked up the phone. A man answered in Spanish.

"You know who this is?" Alvarez asked.

"Yes."

"I have work for you. Come on the evening plane."

Chapter Thirty-One.

Saturday morning, Daniel bolted out of sleep thinking that he was still in his cell. When he realized that he was safe in Kate's guest room he fell back on the bed. Daniel was normally an early riser, but he had slept past nine. Just being in a place where the lights were not on twenty-four hours a day and screams and moans did not jerk him awake at all hours had been a luxury greater than silk sheets.

There was a note from Kate on the kitchen table. She had taken an early flight to Arizona and hadn't wanted to wake him. He wished she had. He remembered how happy he had been to see her waiting for him at the jail and he missed her already.

Daniel reread Kate's note. He liked holding something that she had touched and reading something that she had written just for him. Kate was very kind and very thoughtful. There hadn't been many people like that in Daniel's life. In truth, Kate was the single positive note in the sorry mess that had become his life. Despite their barely knowing each other, Kate had made sure that a top defense attorney represented him, she was paying some of his legal fees, and she was letting him stay with her-knowing that he was charged with murder. Her support conveyed her complete confidence in his innocence. He couldn't imagine getting through his ordeal without her.

After breakfast, Daniel wandered aimlessly around the house, flipped channels on the television, and quickly lost interest in a science-fiction novel he found in Kate's bookcase. Its plot wasn't nearly as surreal as his life. What had happened to him? A little more than a week ago he'd been living a dream he had never dared imagine as a child. Now someone had stolen that dream. Daniel wanted his life back.

One of the worst things about jail was being forced to stay inside. Daniel realized that he needed to get out in the world. He called Joe Molinari.

"How's the convict?" Molinari joked.

"I'm cooped up at Kate Ross's house and I'm going nuts."

"Ross, huh? That'll make juicy office gossip."

"There's nothing to gossip about. I'm hiding from reporters and Kate was kind enough to put me up."

"Of course."

"You're a pig, Molinari."

"I assume you didn't call just to insult me."

"True. Do you want to go for a run? I've got to get some exercise."

"Sounds good."

"Can you drive me over to my apartment so I can get my car and my running gear?"

"No problem. See you soon."

A fire-engine-red Porsche pulled up in front of Kate's house. Joe honked the horn and waved.

"Jesus, Molinari, I'm trying to be inconspicuous."

"Don't worry," Joe said as he peeled out, "you're too ugly to attract attention. Everyone will be looking at me."

Daniel relaxed and enjoyed the ride. It was cool, but the sun brought everyone out and the streets of northwest Portland were crowded with strolling couples.

"Go around the block once," Daniel instructed when they were a few streets from his apartment building. "I want to make certain that there aren't any reporters waiting for me."

"This celebrity thing is going to your head. Who do you think you are, O.J.?"

"Hey, I'm feeling a lot of empathy for O.J. at the moment."

As the Porsche cruised by Daniel's apartment house, a large man in jeans, a black windbreaker, and a baseball cap came out of the front door and crossed the street to a black pickup truck. He looked familiar, but Daniel was certain he had never seen him in the building. When they came around the block the next time, the pickup was gone.

Molinari parked in the street and Daniel ran up the stairs. Kate had been right about the chaos inside. The cops had obviously never heard that neatness counts. Daniel didn't feel like dealing with the mess right away. He grabbed his workout gear and changed in the bathroom, then he stuffed some extra clothes in a duffel bag and ran down to the small lot at the side of the building where his car was parked.

With Molinari following behind, Daniel drove past the zoo and the Forestry Center and parked up the road from the Vietnam Memorial. The two men stretched before taking off through the woods along one of the trails that wound through Washington Park. It took a while for Daniel to get his rhythm, and it didn't help that the first half mile was uphill.

"Feel like telling me what's going on?" Molinari asked.

"You shouldn't get involved."

"From what I can see, you don't have too many people on your side. I'd like to be one of them."

Daniel knew that he probably shouldn't talk about his case with Molinari, but Joe was one of the few people at the firm who'd stood by him. And he was smart. Maybe Joe would see something that he had missed. It would also be a relief to be able to talk about everything he'd kept bottled inside.

Daniel started with the night that Susan conned him into reviewing the discovery and ended with his arrest. The only part of the story he omitted was the call from Arthur Briggs and his presence at the cottage. The prosecutor couldn't prove he'd been at the scene of Briggs's murder and Daniel didn't want to make Joe Molinari a state's witness.

"Any brilliant insights you'd care to share?" Daniel asked when he was through.

"Not really, but it's sure a funny coincidence that Flynn got lucky again so soon after finding the Kaidanov letter."

"What do you mean?"

"Jaffe demolished Fairweather under oath. After Oregon Mutual sees a transcript of her testimony they'll be begging Reed, Briggs to settle and Flynn will collect a nice fat attorney's fee."

As they ran up a small rise Daniel suddenly remembered that Flynn had sent one of his associates to sit in on his hearing. An odd thought occurred to him. Did Flynn know what was going to happen when Fairweather took the stand? Was Flynn the guardian angel who sent Amanda the videotape of Fairweather's speech?

"You know, I just got a crazy idea," Molinari said as they started downhill. "Do you think it's possible that Aaron Flynn has a mole at Reed, Briggs?"

"Like in the spy novels?"

"Seriously, think about it. How did Kaidanov's letter get into the box of discovery? How did a tape from Arthur Briggs's office find its way to Amanda Jaffe?"

The trail narrowed and the men ran single file in silence until it widened giving Daniel time to think. He liked Flynn. He remembered how natural he'd been with Patrick Cummings. Daniel knew that Flynn was flamboyant and aggressive. He didn't want to think that he was dishonest.

"Someone at Geller could have included Kaidanov's letter by mistake when they compiled the discovery," Daniel said.

"You told me that everyone at Geller swears that they've never seen that letter or the Kaidanov report," Molinari countered.

"They would if they're lying."

"But how would someone at Geller know about Fairweather's case?" Joe insisted. "It has nothing to do with Geller Pharmaceuticals. If someone at Reed, Briggs sent Amanda that tape to help Flynn they could also have slipped the Kaidanov letter into the discovery."

"Okay, suppose you're right. Who's the mole?"

"Oregon Mutual was Briggs's client, so, technically, the suit against Fairweather was Briggs's case, but Brock Newbauer and Susan Webster were doing most of the work on it. They'd know about the videotape."

"Brock and Susan are also on the Insufort team," Daniel said.

"Something happened after you left that fits into my theory," Joe told Daniel. "Briggs called a meeting on the day he was killed to discuss what to do in the Insufort litigation. Brock Newbauer was complaining that he wanted Geller to settle, but Briggs wouldn't listen to him."

"Is Brock running the Geller defense now?"

"Technically, but I'm guessing that Susan is calling the shots."

"Why do you say that?"

"Brock only made partner because his family owns Newbauer Construction, one of our biggest clients. He's a joke around the firm. Haven't you noticed how long he takes for lunch, and have you ever smelled his breath when he gets back? He could never get a handle on a case as complex as the Insufort litigation. The science would be beyond him. Briggs represented the Newbauer account, which brings in mucho dinero. He had to baby-sit Brock to keep the client happy."

"And you said that Brock wanted Geller to settle?"

Molinari nodded.

"If Flynn does have a mole at Reed, Briggs that's exactly what he would want."

Chapter Thirty-Two.

The next morning, the sun was hiding behind a lead sky and there was a threat of rain in the chill air. Daniel was sore from his run and he limped out of bed. After breakfast, he watched the first half of a Seattle Seahawks' game on TV, but Kate's house was beginning to feel claustrophobic. He remembered the mess in his apartment and drove over at halftime.

The apartment didn't look any better than it had the day before. Daniel turned on the football game and watched while he straightened up. Everything was in decent shape by the time the game ended. Daniel was wondering when his life would be put back together when the phone rang. His hand hovered over the receiver as he debated whether to take the call. He had no desire to talk to a reporter, but it could be a friend and it would be nice to talk to someone who cared enough to call.

"Hello?"

"Daniel Ames?" a man asked. He had an accent-Slavic, Russian perhaps.

"Who is this?"

"We have to meet."

The man sounded desperate.

"About what?" Daniel asked cautiously.

"I witnessed Arthur Briggs's murder." The answer was rushed. "I know you didn't kill him. That's why you're the only one I can trust."

The hair stood up on the back of Daniel's neck. "Dr. Kaidanov?"

"Will you meet with me?"

"Will you go to the police and tell them I'm innocent?" Daniel asked excitedly.

"We must talk first."

"Fine, where are you? I'll come right away."

"No, not in daylight. You might be followed. Tonight at ten come alone to Rest of Angels Cemetery. I'll meet you near Simon Prescott's mausoleum."

"You're joking?"

"I lost my sense of humor when those bastards tried to kill me at the lab."

"But a cemetery, after dark?"

"Rest of Angels is where my mother is buried. Are you going to be there?"

"Yeah, don't get excited."

"I've earned the right to be excited. I've been running for my life for almost a month. You should be able to relate to that."

As soon as Kaidanov told Daniel how to find the mausoleum, he hung up and Daniel dialed Kate's house, hoping that she was back from Arizona, but all he got was her answering machine.

Chapter Thirty-Three.

Daniel left for Rest of Angels at 9:30 without having heard from Kate. The main gate closed at sundown. Kaidanov had instructed him to park in a housing development that was separated from the cemetery by a shallow ravine and a quarter acre of forest. Daniel put up the hood from his windbreaker. Heavy rain had turned the walls of the ravine to mire. He slid down one side then scrambled up the other. By the time he was out of the depression, he was shivering and covered with mud.

Rest of Angels sprawled across a hundred and twenty-five hilly and wooded acres overlooking the Columbia River and was surrounded by another hundred and seventy-five acres of forest. On summer days the cemetery was a serene and picturesque shelter for the dead. When Daniel broke out of the forest, the rain-slashed graveyard looked like a set from Dracula .

A cemetery after dark would never have been his first choice of a place to meet, especially with a murderer running loose. The mausoleums and monuments provided excellent cover for a killer. Daniel ran between the graves to the Prescott mausoleum, then ducked behind the crypt. The rain and the biting wind were making him miserable and he pulled the strings of his hood tighter to protect his face, all the while looking around for Kaidanov. His senses were strained to the limit, but the downpour made it hard to hear and his hood limited his peripheral vision.

"Ames."

Daniel spun around, fist cocked. He held his punch when he recognized Kaidanov. The scientist looked as miserable as Daniel felt. Water ran down his face and beaded a mustache and beard that Daniel had not noticed in the picture on the liquor cabinet in Kaidanov's living room.

"You scared the shit out of me," Daniel said as he sagged against the tomb.

"We don't have much time," the Russian answered. He was shivering and his voice trembled from the cold. "I want you to tell Geller Pharmaceuticals that I'll testify that my study is a hoax."

"The results aren't real?" Daniel asked, stunned by Kaidanov's revelation.

"Of course not."

"And Insufort is safe?"

"I don't have time for this," Kaidanov said impatiently. "You tell Geller's people that I want money and protection. I'm not meeting anyone until I've been paid and all of the safety precautions have been arranged to my satisfaction."

"Why me?"

"Because I don't know who to trust at Reed, Briggs or Geller. I want one million dollars. That's cheap considering how much I'll save them. I also want a safe house and bodyguards." Kaidanov looked around nervously. "They tried to kill me at the lab. Then they tried again when they murdered Briggs."

"Who tried to kill you?"

"I don't know. I never met anyone. I received my instructions by phone or in the mail or at a drop. They paid me to transform that building into a lab and to phony up the study. They told me the results they wanted."

"Why did you do it?"

Kaidanov shrugged. "Gambling debts. They promised me enough to pay them and more. I was stupid. I believed them."

"Do you know who killed Arthur Briggs?"

"I'm sure it was the same person who tried to kill me at the lab, but I didn't see his face. Everything happened too fast. Arthur warned me and I got away. I was lucky at the lab, too." Kaidanov laughed. "That fucking monkey. It saved my life."

"The monkey that was shot?"

"I was seconds away from being set on fire when the little beast came out of nowhere. It was amazing. Its coat was solid flame and it still had the strength to attack." The Russian shook his head in awe. "The last thing I saw was its teeth sinking into the killer's shoulder."

Kaidanov shuddered. Blood, skin, and brains spattered Daniel's face. He stepped back instinctively, making a strangled sound as he stared in shock at the remains of Kaidanov's face. The scientist lurched forward and clutched Daniel's jacket. His back absorbed the next bullet. The explosion acted like a slap. Daniel shoved the body away and jumped behind the mausoleum, barely avoiding a bullet that nicked the edge of the crypt and sprayed him with rock chips.

Daniel sprinted between the graves toward another mausoleum. Someone was running parallel to him, several rows over. The killer pulled up and assumed a shooting stance. Daniel dove behind a stone angel just as the angel's head exploded.

Daniel scrambled forward, crablike, but he held out little hope of escape. It wouldn't take long for the killer to figure out that he was unarmed and helpless. He took a quick look around. The mausoleum was two rows away. The killer would expect him to head for it because it provided the best shelter, so he started circling back toward Kaidanov's body, hoping that the heavy clouds and rain would cloak his movements.

Daniel risked a look over his shoulder and saw a figure racing toward the mausoleum. As soon as it disappeared he leaped up and raced away. A gun fired and Daniel felt the wind track of a bullet speeding by his cheek. He shifted gears and ran all out, dodging behind the tallest monuments and widest headstones. Another bullet ripped the fabric of his hood and creased the side of his head, sending him sprawling headfirst into a granite slab. Fighting for consciousness, Daniel gritted his teeth and struggled to one knee, then tumbled back down. Footsteps pounded the ground, drawing closer. A shot. Daniel braced for the impact, but none came. Two more shots, but from opposite directions, then another and another. Daniel looked around. A figure was firing toward his assailant, who turned and fled.

"Stay down," Kate Ross yelled. Daniel crawled behind a large headstone. His head was throbbing. When he touched the skin above his left ear, blood dampened his palm and pain flared in his temple.

Kate crouched beside him, a gun in her hand.

"Get up. We've got to go, now !"

Daniel braced himself on the headstone and levered himself to his feet, before doubling over from nausea. Kate gripped his arm.

"Suck it up and move."

Daniel stumbled forward like a drunk with Kate following, gun in hand. Gradually, his head cleared enough for him to get his bearings.

"Where's your car?"

"Over there," Daniel said, pointing toward the ravine where he'd come in. Kate worried that the shooter was waiting in the woods, but she angled toward the trees. Daniel had all he could do to keep his feet moving. At some point Kate took his arm, steadying him. Kate breathed a sigh of relief when they entered the woods without incident.

When they found Daniel's car, Kate took his keys and helped him into the passenger's seat, then went around to the driver's side. The dome light went on. Kate got a good look at Daniel's face and gasped. Daniel stared in the rearview mirror. His blood drenched the left side of his head and Kaidanov's blood and brains speckled his face and the front of his windbreaker.

"Oh, Jesus," he said as a wave of nausea rolled through his stomach. He pushed open the door and threw up on the macadam. Kate put a hand on his back.

"How badly are you hurt?" she asked.

Daniel ran the back of his hand across his mouth and squeezed his eyes tight.

"It's not all my blood," he managed. "Kaidanov . . ."

Another wave of nausea hit him and he gritted his teeth.

"The scientist you came to meet?" Kate asked.

Daniel nodded. "His body is back there by the mausoleum."

Kate made a decision. She punched in a number on her cell phone and Daniel looked at her.

"I'm getting you an ambulance."

"No," Daniel gasped. "They'll send me back to jail."

Kate gave their location to 911, then dialed another number.

"You're hurt and there's been a murder," she answered as she waited for the party on the other end to pick up.

Daniel was too weak to talk and almost too dizzy to think, but he shook his head. Kate grabbed his shoulder and squeezed.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

Daniel used most of his energy to muster a nod.

"Then stick with me." A voice on the other end of the phone distracted her.

"Hello," she said. "It's Kate Ross, Amanda. I'm with Daniel Ames. We need you."

Chapter Thirty-Four.

When Billie Brewster and Zeke Forbus drove up, the medics were treating Daniel's head wound in the back of an ambulance. An officer was stationed at the rear of the ambulance, guarding Daniel. The detectives conferred with him for a few minutes. Then the officer pointed to Kate's car, where Kate Ross and Amanda Jaffe had taken shelter from the rain. Billie ran over and knocked on Kate's window. Kate got out of the car just as Forbus joined his partner.

"Why couldn't your boyfriend commit murder on a sunny afternoon?" he grumbled.

"Daniel didn't kill anyone," Kate snapped, too exhausted to be polite.

Forbus barked out a sour laugh and threw a thumb over his shoulder toward the uniform. "Harris told me the bullshit story you gave him about a mysterious stranger and your heroic rescue. Sounds a little like Lethal Weapon Nine ."

"Listen, you fat-"

"Hey!" Billie shouted, stepping between them. "We're all tired and we're all wet. Let's try to act civilized, okay? I do not want to play referee to you two."

Forbus smirked as Amanda Jaffe joined the trio. Kate glared at Forbus.

"Tell us what happened!" Billie said.

"I already gave a statement," Kate answered belligerently, still pissed.

"Then repeat it to me," Billie asked calmly. "Please."

Kate looked at Amanda and the lawyer nodded.

"I was out of town on business. When I got home there was a message from Daniel on my answering machine. He said that Sergey Kaidanov had called him."

"The missing scientist?" Billie interjected.

Kate nodded. "Kaidanov wanted Daniel to meet him at Rest of Angels. He was going to testify that his study was a hoax, but he wanted to be paid. He wanted Daniel to negotiate with Geller Pharmaceuticals."

"Why Ames?" Forbus asked.

"Kaidanov was at the cottage when Arthur Briggs was killed. He knew Daniel didn't kill Briggs, so he trusted him."

"This is what Ames told you?" Forbus asked skeptically.

Kate nodded.

"I don't suppose he has a witness to back him up?"

"Let her tell the story," Billie told her partner.

"By the time I got here Kaidanov was dead. I saw Daniel go down. The killer was trying to finish him off. I started shooting and scared him away."

"Where's your gun?" Forbus asked.

"I turned it over to the first cop who showed up. It's already bagged."

"What were you using?" Billie asked.

"A nine-millimeter Glock. You should find a lot of spent shells out there. I was spraying shots."

"Sounds familiar," Forbus muttered.

Billie's head snapped around and she glared at Forbus. He shrugged and held up his hands, but Kate caught his cruel smile.

"Where's the body?" Billie asked Kate.

"In the cemetery. There should be someone out there already. They called for forensics."

Billie was about to ask another question when a car pulled up. Mike Greene opened an umbrella and ran over.

"I should have stayed in L.A.," he swore. "Hi, Amanda, ladies and gentlemen. What have I missed?"

Billie quickly repeated what Kate had told her.

"Where's Ames?" Greene asked when she was finished.

"In the back of the ambulance," Amanda answered.

Greene thought for a moment. Then he looked at Daniel's lawyer.

"Let's get out of this rain and talk. There's a Denny's down the road."

"We've got to get over to the cemetery to scope out the crime scene," Billie said. Greene nodded and Amanda followed him to his car.

Kate turned to Billie. "What are you going to do about Daniel?"

"He's a suspect, Kate."

"Damn it, Billie, I told you what I saw. Daniel was supposed to die, too. He's been shot. Take a look at his wound. He'd be dead if I got here a few minutes later."

"This is the second crime scene Ames has been caught at."

"You didn't catch him. I called 911 with his consent. We could have been long gone if he gave the word. You'd never have connected him to the killing if he didn't wait here."

"You've got a point."

"The person who killed Briggs and Kaidanov is a cold-blooded psychopath. Daniel's nothing like that."

"Is this your heart or your head talking?" Billie asked, watching her friend carefully.

"How many times do I have to say it? I saw someone shoot Daniel."

"Who?"

"It was dark. Everything happened very fast."

Billie was quiet for a moment. When she spoke she looked uneasy.

"I'm gonna be blunt, Kate. Right now I've got a murder victim and a guy who's charged with another, connected murder. What Ames has is a witness who came on the scene after the victim was killed, and that witness is a friend of the suspect-maybe a very good friend."

"You think I'm lying?" Kate asked, aghast at the accusation.

Billie broke eye contact for a moment. When she reestablished it she looked embarrassed.

"What happens to Ames isn't my call. Mike Greene and Amanda Jaffe will work out the details. Right now all I want to do is get my work done and go home to a hot drink and a very hot bath. You should get out of the rain."

Chapter Thirty-five.

When Mike Greene and Amanda Jaffe returned, the ambulance was gone and Daniel was under guard in the back of a patrol car. In view of Kate's account of the shoot-out and Daniel's wound, Greene decided that there was too much uncertainty to arrest Daniel.

The shock of being seconds from death, the discomfort from his wound, and the discovery that Kaidanov's study was a hoax gave Daniel a lot to think about during the ride to Kate's house. As soon as they were in the door Kate led him into the bathroom. His clothes were still covered with gore.

"Give me those," Kate said while she filled up the bathtub. "I'll put them in the wash to get this . . . stuff off."

Daniel stripped and settled into the scalding water. The painkillers he'd been given by the EMTs had kicked in. He closed his eyes and drifted off, but a recurring vision of Kaidanov's head exploding kept him from falling asleep, as did the sudden understanding that the only person who could tell the police that he did not murder Arthur Briggs was dead.

The water cooled off and Daniel hoisted himself out of the tub. Every movement hurt. After he dressed in clothes that Kate had left for him, he limped into the living room. She was sitting on the couch clutching a glass of Scotch. The bottle stood in front of her on the coffee table. Kate's eyes were closed and her head was back. She looked exhausted. Daniel felt guilty that he had only been thinking about himself.

"Are you okay?" he asked anxiously. "Can I do anything?"

Kate opened her eyes and shook her head.

"What's wrong?"

"I was in a shoot-out once before. I never thought I'd have to go through that again."

Daniel sat next to Kate on the couch. "I saw how you looked at the lab when Forbus called you Annie Oakley. Was that because of the shooting?"

Kate nodded.

"What happened?"

Kate closed her eyes and pressed the glass to her forehead.

"There wasn't enough action in solving computer crimes, so I asked for a transfer to narcotics," Kate said in an exhausted monotone. "About six months after I went undercover I busted Clarence Marcel, an enforcer for Abdullah Hassim, a major dealer.

"While Clarence was out on bail, he and Abdullah had a falling-out over three missing kilos of cocaine. Clarence decided to rat out Abdullah in exchange for witness protection. I'm the one he called to set up the deal. The DA had an orgasm when I told him. He'd been trying to catch Abdullah for years. Only problem was Clarence insisted on turning himself over at the Lloyd Center mall at high noon. I told the DA that Clarence's plan was insane-too many people could get hurt if Abdullah tried to take out Clarence-but the DA was so desperate to turn him that he went along with it."

Kate took a stiff drink. "I remember every second of that afternoon," she said, a faraway look in her eyes. "It was Christmas. Carols were being piped through the loudspeakers, kids were skating at the ice rink, and the mall was packed. We were supposed to meet Clarence in front of a camera store. There were shoppers all over the place: a pregnant woman with her child, a Hispanic family, a cute, blond kid about twelve in a baggy Spider-Man sweatshirt.

"Clarence appeared out of nowhere and our guys moved to surround him. Watching from the doorway of a record store across the way were two black teenagers in Oakland Raiders gear. I was window-shopping, next door. As soon as they spotted Clarence they pulled out automatic weapons."

Kate shook her head slowly.

"I shot the first one in the chest. He fell sideways into the guy on his right, who had his finger on the trigger of an Uzi. I shot the second guy. He stumbled forward, spraying bullets into the crowd. A mother and daughter went down, one of our men was hit. There was complete panic and everybody started diving for cover.

"The crowd had separated Clarence from our guys and he took off for the nearest exit. I went after him. Running hard on his heels was the little white kid in the Spider-Man sweatshirt. Just as they reached the exit the kid said something and Clarence stopped and turned. I had almost caught up with him when this hole appeared in Clarence's forehead."

Kate touched a spot above her right eye.

"Who shot him?"

"It was the fucking kid. He was working with the brothers in the Oakland Raiders togs. Later on we found out that the hit wasn't his first." Kate shook her head as if she still couldn't believe it. "He was twelve years old and he did it for two Baggies."

She paused, drained her glass, then refilled it.

"I thought someone behind me had killed Clarence. It never dawned on me that it was the kid until he shot me, too. I was so shocked that I froze. Then he shot me again and I started squeezing the trigger. When the other cops got there every pane of glass in the exit door had been blown out, the kid was lying in a pool of blood with his chest torn apart, and I was standing over him jerking that trigger even though there wasn't a bullet left in my gun."

"How could you still be standing?" Daniel asked, awed by Kate's story.

"On TV, people fly through the air when they're shot or they fall down and die. That's not the way it happens in the real world. I've heard of shoot-outs where robbers took shot after shot and kept coming. Even a person who's shot in the heart could have as much as a minute to act before he bleeds out and goes unconscious. I didn't even know I'd been hit until I saw the blood. That's when I collapsed."

"Jesus, that's amazing."

"The DA didn't think so," Kate concluded bitterly. "Neither did the press. They called the shoot-out `The Holiday Massacre.' " She looked at Daniel. "They needed a scapegoat, so they chose me. I'd lost Clarence and I killed a little kid. It didn't matter to the press that the kid was a hired assassin. I was expendable. I could have fought it, but I'd had enough, so I resigned."

"It sounds to me like you have nothing to feel bad about."

Kate smiled without humor. "I don't feel bad. I never did. After the shooting I had to visit a shrink. It was department policy. He told me it was common to experience feelings of guilt even when a shooting was righteous, but I never felt guilty and that really bothered me."

"What about tonight?"

Kate looked directly at Daniel. "Truth?"

"Of course."

"I was pumped. My motor was going every second I was trading shots."

"That's adrenaline."

Kate shook her head. "I know what adrenaline feels like. This was something different. This was a high like no other. So, what does that say about me?"

"It says that you're too hard on yourself. Are you forgetting that you saved my life? You're my hero, Kate."

Kate's laugh was sharp and biting.

"I mean it," he insisted. "I'd be dead if it wasn't for you. What you did was very brave."

Kate touched his cheek. "You're sweet."

Daniel reached up and took Kate's hand. It was light as a feather. He turned her palm and kissed it. She hesitated for only a second. Then she pulled Daniel to her and kissed him. Daniel winced. Kate sat back.

"Are you okay?" she asked, alarmed.

"Never felt better," Daniel answered, grimacing.

Kate laughed.

"I hate to say this," Daniel said, managing to smile, "but I'm in no condition to play Don Juan tonight."

Kate squeezed his hand. "Do I get a rain check?"

"Most definitely." He grinned. "I've got to thank you properly for riding to my rescue."

She laughed. "I did arrive in the nick of time, didn't I?"

"Just like the cavalry"-Daniel smiled-"but please feel free to rescue me sooner in the future."

Chapter Thirty-Six.

The slender, dark-skinned man was waiting patiently for Claude Bernier when the photographer reached the landing of his third-floor walk-up. Bernier hesitated even though his visitor was dressed in a conservative suit and carrying a briefcase. He had been robbed at gunpoint recently and the man looked sinister enough to make him uneasy,

"Mr. Bernier?" the man asked in a heavy Spanish accent.

"Yes?" Bernier answered warily.

"My name is Juan Fulano and I am here to do business with you."

Photographers-even those with Claude's talent-had to scramble to make a living, and the mention of business erased the last of his doubts. He unlocked his door and invited Fulano inside. The apartment was small but clean. The walls were decorated with Bernier's photographs and the works of friends. Claude put down the bag of groceries he was carrying on the table in his narrow kitchen.

"I don't have much in the fridge," he apologized, "but I could make us some coffee."

"Not necessary."

Bernier led Fulano into the living room and offered him the most comfortable chair. Fulano sat down and carefully crossed his left leg over his right.

"How can I help you?" Bernier asked.

"I am interested in buying a copy of a photograph that was originally purchased from the Pitzer-Kraft Gallery in late February by a lawyer named Gene Arnold."

"Are you with the police?"

"No, Mr. Bernier. Why do you ask?"

"The police in Portland, Oregon, called me about that photograph. Do you know that Arnold was murdered?"

Bernier's visitor nodded. "Why did the Oregon authorities contact you?"

"They want a copy of the photograph, too."

"Have you sent it to them?"

"No. I just found the negative. It was misplaced. I'm mailing a print to Portland tomorrow."

Fulano smiled. "I wonder if I could induce you to sell me a copy of the photograph as well."

"Sure. I can make another copy."

"How much do you require?"

Bernier did a quick calculation based on the quality of Fulano's clothes.

"Fifteen hundred dollars," he said.

"A reasonable price, but the photograph would be worth five thousand to me if you would do me a small favor."

Bernier managed to conceal his surprise and excitement. He had never sold a photograph for that much money.

"What would you want me to do?"

"Do the authorities in Oregon know that you've located the negative of the photograph?"

"No. I just found it this morning."

"The five thousand is yours if you wait to send the photograph until I tell you to do so."

"I don't know," Bernier answered, suddenly worried. "It's a murder investigation. The detective I spoke with thought the people in the picture might be involved in Mr. Arnold's death."

"I, too, am interested in discovering the identity of Mr. Arnold's killer. I have no desire to obstruct a police investigation."

"Then why do you want me to wait to send the photograph to the police?"

Bernier's visitor leaned back and steepled his fingers. "Is five thousand dollars a fair price for your photograph?"

"Yes."

"Is it more than fair?"

Bernier hesitated, certain that the man knew he had inflated the price.

"It's very generous."

"Then I would hope that you would permit me to simply say that your assistance is important to me."

Bernier considered the proposition for a moment more before accepting.

"Do you think you could have the photograph for me by this evening?" Fulano asked. "I have an early flight?"

"That shouldn't be a problem. Come by at eight."

Bernier's visitor opened his briefcase and handed him a stack of currency.

"A down payment," he said. "I hope you don't mind cash."

Chapter Thirty-Seven.

The aroma of coffee lured Daniel out of a fitful sleep the next morning. When he limped into the kitchen Kate was finishing her breakfast. She looked up from the paper and smiled.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm okay," Daniel answered unconvincingly. He poured himself a cup of coffee.

"I forgot to ask, last night. Did anything happen in Arizona?"

She nodded as Daniel put two slices of bread in the toaster.

"I'm pretty certain I know why Gene Arnold came to Portland."

Daniel carried his coffee to the table and Kate told him about the kidnappings in Desert Grove and her discovery that Aaron Flynn had been Paul McCann's attorney.

"So you think Gene Arnold recognized Flynn in the photograph?"

"I can't think of any other reason for him to come here."

"But why-" Daniel stopped in mid-sentence. "The guy!"

"What?"

"Saturday, Joe Molinari took me to my apartment to get my running gear. When we pulled up I saw a man leave my apartment house and get into a black pickup. I was certain I'd seen him someplace before. I just remembered where. The day I dropped off the discovery Flynn and this guy came into the reception area together. I got the impression he worked for Flynn."

"Describe him to me."

"He looked like a weight lifter, a big neck, thick shoulders. I'd guess he was in his forties."

"Burt Randall. He's Flynn's investigator."

"Why would he be at my place?"

Kate was quiet for a moment. "Did you tell anyone other than me that you were going to meet Kaidanov at the cemetery?"

"No."

"Then how did the killer know?"

"Maybe someone followed Kaidanov."

"That doesn't work," Kate said. "If the people who wanted him dead knew where he was, they would have killed Kaidanov before he could tell you that the study was a hoax."

"Maybe I was the one who was tailed."

"But they'd have to know you were meeting Kaidanov. Kaidanov called you at your apartment, right?"

Daniel nodded.

"Randall knows all about electronic surveillance. You may have a tap on your phone."

"Is there any way you can tell?"

"I know someone who can sweep your apartment."

"Shit. The only person who could clear me is dead and my apartment might be bugged. This is getting worse and worse."

Chapter Thirty-Eight.

Paul Durban, a chubby, bespectacled man in a white shirt, gray slacks, and a gray sweater vest, finished his sweep of Daniel's apartment as Kate and Daniel watched from the couch. Durban concentrated his equipment on an area of molding for a few moments, then he turned to Kate.

"One bug in the phone, one in the bedroom, and one in here."

"Thanks, Paul. You know where to send the bill."

"Anytime," he said as he gathered up his equipment and left.

Durban had placed each listening device in its own evidence bag and left them on the coffee table. Daniel picked up one of the plastic bags and examined the bug.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," he said. "Until Kaidanov told me that his study was a hoax, I was sure that Geller was trying to cover up Kaidanov's results. Now that I've learned about Aaron Flynn's connection to Gene Arnold, I've been looking at everything that's happened in a different light."

Daniel put the bug down.

"When I dropped off the discovery I had a talk with Flynn. He told me that he'd hired more than twenty people to deal with the Insufort case and had leased another floor in his building to house them. That had to cost him. Now add in the expense of hiring experts at three hundred to six hundred dollars an hour and the other assorted expenses of litigation and you're looking at hundreds of thousands of dollars in costs.

"Flynn made a lot of money from his other cases, but I bet he's plowed a lot of that dough back into the Insufort case. That's a good investment if he wins. In some of the Insufort cases, the plaintiffs are permanently injured babies. You're talking about a lifetime of damages. There's lost earning capacity, medical costs, lifetime care. The life expectancy of a male is around seventy-two years and a female's life expectancy is a little under eighty years. What kind of care does a severely handicapped child need? There's nursing care, doctors' visits, psychiatric counseling for the parents. We're talking a hundred thousand dollars a year, easy. Now multiply that by seventy or eighty years and multiply that by the number of plaintiffs. Potentially that's millions in attorney fees. When the first few plaintiffs showed up, Flynn must have thought that his ship had come in. I bet he started spending money like crazy, figuring he'd make a fortune when the cases were over."

"But the studies failed to show a causal connection between Insufort and the birth defects," Kate said.

"Exactly. And Flynn figured out that it was only a coincidence that the plaintiffs were taking Insufort and their children had birth defects. That's when he decided that he had to manufacture evidence."

"I see a problem," Kate said. "Flynn would have to put on admissible evidence to prove Insufort causes birth defects. If the study is phony it would be torn apart by Geller's experts at trial."

"The operative words here are `at trial,' " Daniel said. "That's where evidence is put to the test and a fraud can be exposed. But what happened when Kaidanov's lab was destroyed? The media jumped to the conclusion that Geller was covering up problems with Insufort. That's what we believed, and it's what a jury might believe. Now someone has murdered Kaidanov and Geller Pharmaceuticals has the obvious motive. With Kaidanov dead and the lab destroyed, Geller can't refute his study results. They can claim they're phony, but they can't prove it. There's going to be tremendous pressure on Geller to settle rather than run the risk of a catastrophic jury verdict."

"You're right," Kate said. "If the case settles, no one gets to show whether or not Insufort is safe."

"And Aaron Flynn wins a huge attorney fee instead of losing millions of dollars in costs."

Kate hesitated. "If Flynn is behind Kaidanov's hoax, why did he try to hide the results of the study by erasing it from the hard drive on Kaidanov's computer? Wouldn't Flynn want us to find the study?"

The question stumped Daniel for a moment. Then he brightened.

"When I broke into Kaidanov's house it looked like a hurricane had swept through it, but there was one thing in that house that was untouched and sitting exactly where it was supposed to be."

"The computer!"

"Whoever trashed Kaidanov's house left his computer alone so I couldn't help but notice it in the wreckage. He couldn't have done more to draw my attention to it if he painted it red and stuck sequins on it."

"You're right. They wanted us to think that there had been an unsuccessful attempt by Geller's people to erase the file, but a pro would have left no trace on the hard drive. It was a snap for me to recover the study."

"There's something else, Kate. Think about this. Flynn finding Kaidanov's letter in the documents Geller produced was like buying a winning lottery ticket. But that's not the only time that Flynn's gotten lucky. The eyewitness in my murder case just happens to be April Fairweather, the defendant in another one of his cases. Then a guardian angel sends my lawyer a videotape that enables her to destroy Fairweather so badly that the insurance company Flynn is suing will have to settle. Bingo, Flynn collects another big attorney fee."

"That is quite a string of good luck," Kate mused.

"What if Flynn is making his own luck? I talked with Joe Molinari about my case when we ran. He wondered if Flynn's got a mole at Reed, Briggs who stole the tape and put the Kaidanov letter into the discovery."

"Did he say who he thought it was?"

"Brock Newbauer or Susan Webster. Both of them are involved with the Insufort and the Fairweather cases."

Kate was quiet for a moment. When she spoke Daniel could tell that she was upset.

"You might be onto something. About a year ago Brock Newbauer settled a lawsuit because Aaron Flynn found a witness no one outside our office was supposed to know about. The way I remember it, aside from the lawyers, only our client was supposed to know that this guy existed. A lot of people in the firm were upset when they received Flynn's witness list. There were rumors that someone at Reed, Briggs tipped off Flynn, but they never came to anything. The next time you talk to Joe Molinari ask him about the Romanoff case. He was working on it with Newbauer. It was shortly after you started at the firm."

Kate thought for a moment before making a decision.

"I think our best chance of clearing you is to help the police find the person who killed Briggs and Kaidanov. I'm going to show Billie the bugs. We can tell her about Burt Randall. She'll question him and find out who told him to install them. I'll tell Billie about Flynn's connection to Gene Arnold. We'll nail him."

Chapter Thirty-Nine.

When Kate walked into the Taco Bell, Billie Brewster was working on a burrito in a back booth. Kate bought a cup of black coffee and slid in across from her.

"What, no password? I thought this was a top-secret meeting."

Kate smiled. "I'm here to talk about Kaidanov's murder."

"And I thought you wanted some fashion tips." Billie took a bite of her burrito. "I assume there's going to be a little quid pro quo here."

Kate nodded.

"A neighbor who lives near that ravine heard the shots and looked out her window. She saw someone run out of the woods a little before you and Daniel came out, but it was too dark for her to give any kind of ID. She also saw a car drive off without lights, but can't tell us the make or color. That's all we've got."

"I think you should take a hard look at Aaron Flynn and Burt Randall, Flynn's investigator."

"This on the up-and-up?"

Kate nodded.

"Aaron Flynn has lots of important friends," Billie said.

Kate leaned across the table. Her voice and her stare were intense.

"Kaidanov phoned Daniel's apartment to set up the meeting at the graveyard. Daniel didn't tell anyone except me that he was meeting Kaidanov there at ten, but the killer knew. The day before the call, Daniel saw Burt Randall leaving his building. I had Dan's apartment swept for bugs and my technician found these."

Kate placed the evidence bags containing the bugs on the table. Billie whistled softly.

"Randall must have planted them and whoever listened to Daniel's calls knew that Kaidanov would be at Rest of Angels at ten o'clock."

The detective picked up evidence bags and studied the listening devices.

"Okay, you've got me thinking about Randall," she said. "Why Flynn?"

Kate told Billie everything she had learned in Arizona about the Alvarez and Arnold kidnappings.

"I'm certain that Gene Arnold was killed because Flynn was afraid that he would expose his connection to the Arizona kidnappings."

"Was Flynn ever a suspect in the Alvarez or Arnold murders?"

"Not that I know. But I called your friend at the Benson Hotel. He went over Arnold's phone records. Gene Arnold called Aaron Flynn's office from his room."

"Why would a hotshot lawyer like Aaron Flynn be killing people and setting monkeys on fire?" Brewster asked.

Kate told the homicide detective how much money Flynn would make if he won the Insufort litigation and how much it would cost him if he lost it.

"You think Flynn or Randall killed Arthur Briggs?" Billie asked.

"I'm certain of it. Kaidanov was going to tell Briggs that the study was a hoax. The study was all Flynn had going for him. He had to kill Kaidanov and anyone he talked to."

Billie took a bite of her burrito and mulled over all she'd just learned.

"I think I'll pay a visit to Mr. Flynn," she said.

Chapter Forty.

Zeke Forbus was at his desk in the Justice Center writing a report when his intercom buzzed.

"I've got a caller on line two for a detective who's working on the Ames investigation," the receptionist said.

"Though he works from sun to sun, a detective's work is never done." Forbus sighed. The receptionist laughed. "I'll take it, Millie."

"Detectives," Forbus said as soon as he punched line two.

"Ask Arthur Briggs's secretary what Daniel Ames said when he called her the afternoon her boss was murdered," a muffled voice said. Then the line went dead.

Zeke Forbus flashed his badge and told the receptionist at Reed, Briggs that he wanted to talk to Renee Gilchrist. Then he took a seat and leafed through a magazine while he waited for Renee to appear. As soon as she walked into the reception area, Forbus remembered her. She was tall and sleek and easily distracted him from the article he had been reading.

"Ms. Gilchrist?" Forbus said.

When she nodded Forbus showed Renee his identification. Renee looked nervous.

"I'm one of the detectives investigating the murder of Arthur Briggs. We spoke right after your boss was killed."

"Oh, yes. I remember."

"Is there someplace quiet where we can talk now?"

"There's a room down the hall that's not being used."

"That'll do."

"What's this about?"

Forbus smiled. "Why don't we get settled first."

As soon as they were inside, Forbus shut the door and motioned Renee into a seat. The room was small and the air close. Forbus moved slowly to the table and took his seat, staring at Renee the whole time and not saying a word. The detective enjoyed using his size to advantage in a situation like this and he felt a surge of pleasure when Renee lowered her eyes. He had intentionally scooted his chair close to her so their knees were almost touching.

"After we talked the first time I wrote a report."

Forbus pulled three folded sheets of paper out of his inside jacket pocket and pushed them across the table. Renee looked at the report nervously but did not reach for it.

"Read it," Forbus ordered.

Renee hesitated, then started turning the pages. When she finished she looked at the detective expectantly.

"Anything missing?" he asked.

"Missing?"

"Yeah. Is there anything that you should have told me that's not in there?"

Renee looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"I got a call from someone who thinks you're concealing information in this investigation."

Renee's shoulders hunched a little and she looked down at the table.

"Ms. Gilchrist, how did you and Daniel Ames get along?"

"Okay. Fine."

"Care to elaborate."

"He . . . We worked together."

"Do you like him?"

The question seemed to startle Renee. "Like him?" she repeated. "Well, I mean, he's a nice guy, sure."

"That's not what I'm talking about, Ms. Gilchrist. You two ever date?"

"No! He did a lot of work with Mr. Briggs. I just saw him in the office."

"So you'd have no reason to cover for him, to conceal evidence that would prove he killed your boss?"

"Certainly not," she answered, but there was a tremor in her voice.

Forbus smiled. He leaned back and studied Renee. She shifted on her chair.

"Then I suppose you have a good reason for not telling me about the phone call you got from Ames on the day your boss was killed?"

Renee hesitated.

"Did he call you, Renee?" Forbus demanded, putting emphasis on the secretary's first name. "Do you understand that it's a felony to obstruct a police investigation?"

Renee's eyes dropped and she fidgeted in her seat.

"I'm gonna ask you once more: Did you get a call from Daniel Ames on the day Arthur Briggs was killed?"

"Yes," Renee answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Good, Renee. You just took the first step toward staying out of jail. Step two is to tell me what Ames said."

Chapter Forty-One.

When Billie Brewster entered Aaron Flynn's suite of offices, she was as impressed by the lobby as Daniel had been, but Brewster had no trouble separating her admiration for the things someone owned from her opinion of the person who owned them. Flynn's office was as impressive as the lobby. It was paneled in mahogany and decorated with fine art and tributes to Flynn's courtroom triumphs. When Flynn's secretary brought the detective to meet him, he rounded his polished oak desk and crossed the Persian rug that covered his hardwood floors.

"Sit down, Detective Brewster," he said, flashing a warm smile and giving Billie's hand a firm shake. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"I'm okay, thanks," Billie answered as she settled onto a comfortable couch that sat against one wall. Flynn sat opposite her, completely at ease.

"How can I help you?" he asked.

"Have you heard about the shooting at Rest of Angels Cemetery last night?"

The lawyer's smile disappeared. "It was in the morning paper." Flynn shook his head sadly. "Dr. Kaidanov's death was a tragic loss."

"You knew him?"

"No, but I was hoping that he would be the key witness for several clients of mine who have given birth to babies with defects we believe were caused by Insufort, a Geller Pharmaceutical product. Dr. Kaidanov authored a study that showed that the product was harmful. He disappeared before I could question him about his work."

"Did you try to find Dr. Kaidanov?"

"I've had my investigators trying to locate him since I learned about the study."

"Is Burt Randall one of the people you were using?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Did you instruct Mr. Randall to put a tap on Daniel Ames's phone?"

"A tap! Of course not."

"Mr. Flynn, I've received information that your investigator did exactly that, which we both know is quite illegal."

"Of course I know that. That's why I would never do such a thing." Flynn paused. "Ames. Isn't he the young man charged with killing Arthur Briggs?"

Billie nodded.

"I'm completely lost, Detective. What makes you think that Burt would do something like that? If you're going to make serious accusations against one of my employees, I have a right to know the basis for them."

"I'm sorry, but this comes from a confidential source. You understand confidentiality, being a lawyer and all," Brewster said, feigning a friendly smile.

"Well, I don't know what to say. This is very unsettling."

"Is Mr. Randall here? I'd like to speak to him."

"I don't believe he came in today."

"Can you give me his home address and phone number?"

"I'd have to ask Mr. Randall for his permission, first. Why don't I arrange to have you meet him here, tomorrow?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I need to see him today."

"Then I can't help you."

"Or won't," Brewster answered, her smile gone. "Mr. Flynn, does the name Gene Arnold mean anything to you?"

The question seemed to take Flynn by surprise. "I knew a lawyer named Gene Arnold years ago when I was practicing in Arizona."

"That's the Gene Arnold I'm interested in. He was stabbed, then set on fire at the primate lab where the Kaidanov study was conducted."

Billie watched Flynn's reaction carefully.

Flynn seemed confused. "Gene was the dead man at that lab?"

She nodded.

"My God. What was he doing there?"

"I thought you might be able to tell me."

"I have no idea. I haven't seen Gene in years."

"What was your relationship to Mr. Arnold when you did know him?"

Flynn shrugged. " `Relationship' would be too strong a word. We were acquaintances. Both of us practiced law in Desert Grove, which is a fairly small town. There weren't many attorneys in Desert Grove, so we socialized at Bar Association meetings, things of that sort. We were adversaries on occasion, legally speaking, though this was some years ago. I don't remember any specific cases offhand."

"Do you know of any connection between Mr. Arnold and the Insufort litigation?"

"None."

"So he didn't mention the lab or the Insufort case when he called you?"

"Why would he call me?"

"I don't know, but the phone records from the Benson Hotel show a call from Mr. Arnold's room to your office that lasted fifteen minutes."

"I never spoke to him. I told you, I haven't seen him or spoken to him since I left Desert Grove."

"If you didn't talk to him when he called, who did?"

Flynn spread his hands and shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea, Detective."

Billie told Flynn the date and time of the call.

"Were you in the office when he phoned?" she asked.

"I can't say for certain."

"Fifteen minutes is a long time, Mr. Flynn. Mr. Arnold must have been talking to somebody."

"Maybe I was on another line and he held for a while, then hung up. I frequently have phone conferences that last an hour or more. I'm involved in cases all over the country. I'm even representing some of the families from that air crash in India."

"Would your staff be able to help? Maybe they remember the call."

"I'll ask, but I'm assuming this would have been several weeks ago, right?"

"Your billing records would show what you were doing when Mr. Arnold called, wouldn't they?"

"They might."

"Will you ask your secretary to make a copy of them for me?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that. It would violate client confidentiality." Flynn smiled. "There's that word again."

Brewster studied Flynn. He seemed to be getting a second wind.

"Can you think of any reason why Gene Arnold would be in Portland?"

"No."

"You represented Paul McCann, didn't you, the man accused of killing Patty Alvarez?"

"Yes."

"And you know about the murder of Mr. Arnold's wife."

"I wasn't involved in that case," Flynn answered, shifting uneasily in his chair.

"Could Mr. Arnold's visit have had anything to do with the death of his wife and Martin Alvarez's wife?" Billie asked.

Flynn looked very uncomfortable. "I can't think of how it could."

Billie waited a moment, watching Flynn closely. "Well," she said as she stood up, "I guess that does it. Thank you for your time."

Flynn stood, too. "If there's anything I can do . . ."

Billie handed Flynn her card. "The time sheets for the day Mr. Arnold called. Why don't you think about letting me see them."

As soon as the door closed behind Billie Brewster, Aaron Flynn told his secretary to hold his calls. Then he dialed a number he knew almost as well as his own. A moment later the call went through.

"We got a serious problem," Flynn said, speaking urgently into the phone. "A very serious problem."

Chapter Forty-Two.

One wall of Geller Pharmaceuticals' conference room was glass and provided a view of the atrium with its indoor waterfall, but no one in the room was looking at the view. Their attention was focused on J. B. Reed, who had just entered with Brock Newbauer and Susan Webster in tow. At six five and almost three hundred pounds, Reed, Briggs's most powerful partner was used to being the center of attention.

Isaac Geller crossed the conference room and grasped Reed's hand.

"Thank you for coming, John," Geller said. "How are you holding up?"

"It's been hard, Isaac," Reed answered, shaking his head sadly. "Art and I were more than law partners."

"I know."

"We go back to high school. We founded the firm."

"We're all still in shock," Geller said.

Reed's features hardened into a look of rocklike determination.

"I'm stepping in, Isaac. That's why I'm here, to let you know that I'm making these lawsuits my number-one priority."

"And none too soon, either," interjected Byron McFall, Geller's president, as the lawyers took their seats at the conference table. "Kaidanov's murder couldn't have happened at a worse time."

McFall's callousness made Geller flinch, but no one noticed. Their eyes were on Reed.

"How is this going to affect our position?" McFall asked.

"I've been briefed about the case by Brock and Susan," Reed replied, "but I don't have enough of a handle on the facts yet to give you an intelligent answer. Susan?"

All eyes turned toward Susan Webster, the elegant associate who had taken the seat next to Reed.

"Sergey Kaidanov's murder is a public relations nightmare, Mr. McFall. I pulled up several stories on the Kaidanov killing on the Internet. It's front-page news all over the country. The press is hinting that Geller Pharmaceuticals is behind the destruction of the lab and Kaidanov's death because the company wants to cover up his study. There's pressure on the district attorney to start an investigation. Not surprisingly, Aaron Flynn is talking to every reporter he can find. If he brings this case to trial we'll never find twelve jurors who haven't heard the rumors."

Isaac Geller closed his eyes and shook his head. He looked exhausted.

"What do you suggest we do?"

Susan looked at Reed. "Maybe I should wait for Mr. Reed to get up to speed on the case before offering any advice."

"That's okay," Reed prompted. "I want to hear where you think we are in the case."

"I'd start discussing a settlement, Mr. Geller," Susan said reluctantly. "It could be a bloodbath if we go to trial."

"Goddamn it!" Byron McFall said bitterly. "We had nothing to do with that lab or the study or Kaidanov's murder."

"That may be irrelevant if everyone believes that we did," Susan said evenly. "We should approach Mr. Flynn with a reasonable offer. There are good arguments for admissibility and exclusion of the evidence of the murders, the study, and the destruction of the lab. Right now neither side knows what Judge Norris will let in at trial. This is the best time to feel out Flynn. If Norris rules in his favor he'll want to try every case, and once he wins one of them we won't be able to hold back the flood."

Geller's in-house counsel made a comment just as Susan's cell phone rang. Newbauer, who was seated to Susan's left, watched her answer it and noted her surprise. She walked to the far end of the conference room, away from the others, and continued her conversation in a voice too low to hear. She seemed concerned when she returned to the conference table.

"Anything wrong?" Newbauer asked.

"No," Webster answered unconvincingly.

Kate Ross split her attention between The New York Times crossword puzzle and the exit to Aaron Flynn's garage. An hour after she'd seen Billie Brewster leave Flynn's building, Flynn's car appeared. Kate put down the paper and followed him across town to the Sunset Highway entrance. It was almost 6:30 and the traffic had thinned out. Kate stayed several car lengths back as Flynn headed toward the coast. After half an hour, the lawyer left the highway and took a route that wound through farm country. Ten minutes later he pulled into the dirt parking lot of the Midway Cafe, a run-down roadhouse with a neon sign that advertised beer and fried chicken. It was the type of place where truckers and farmers stopped for coffee and pie, and high-priced lawyers rarely entered.

Kate drove by the restaurant then made a U-turn and parked at the far end of the lot just as Flynn was walking inside. Moments later another car pulled into a parking space near the door and Susan Webster got out.

"Bingo," Kate said to herself. She thought about following Susan inside, but the restaurant was too small. Kate leaned over her seat. When she surfaced, she was holding an expensive camera with a telephoto lens.

Thirty minutes later the door to the restaurant opened and Susan Webster and Aaron Flynn walked out. Kate snapped off several shots.

Juan Fulano had been surprised to see another car following Aaron Flynn from his office building to the roadside cafe. He had been careful to stay far enough back of both cars so he would not be seen. When Kate parked in the lot Fulano drove down the road, made a U-turn, and pulled to the side of the road, where he waited until Aaron Flynn and Susan Webster came out of the restaurant. His only worry was that Flynn's tail would follow him after he left the diner, but she did not.

As soon as Flynn drove away Fulano turned on his headlights and followed. Flynn stayed on the highway until he was back within the Portland city limits. When he turned off the highway, Fulano followed at a discreet distance. Once he was certain that Flynn was going home, Fulano fell farther back to give Flynn time to park. Then he found a spot on Flynn's block where he stayed, watching Flynn's house. When the lights went out near midnight, Fulano drove back to his hotel and phoned in his report to Martin Alvarez.

Chapter Forty-Three.

Billie ran a check on Burt Randall after visiting Aaron Flynn's law office. Besides getting his address, she had discovered that Randall was an ex-marine with combat experience and former LAPD. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, the detective had a patrol car follow her to Randall's house. Brewster drove along Northwest Twenty-third until she reached Thurman, then turned left into the hills. Randall's modern A-frame was set back from an unpaved street on the outskirts of Forest Park. A black pickup truck stood in the driveway.

"Let's you and me go to the front door," Billie told Ronnie Blanchard, a uniformed officer who had played linebacker at Portland State. "Radison can cover the rear of the house."

"Sounds like a plan," Tom Radison, Blanchard's partner, said. He headed toward the back of the house.

"You know this guy's background," Billie said. "Let's not take chances."

The house was dark. Billie rang the bell. There was no answer. She tried again while Blanchard tried the door. It was unlocked. The officer looked at Billie and she nodded. He edged the door inward.

"Mr. Randall," Billie called out. Silence. "I'm Billie Brewster, a police detective. Are you home, sir?"

The living room had a vaulted ceiling. The dying rays of the sun cast a pale light through ceiling-high picture windows. Billie pointed to a dark hallway. Blanchard edged down it while Billie cautiously climbed the stairs to a sleeping loft that overlooked the entryway and the living room. The moment Billie's head cleared the landing she knew something was wrong. She gripped her weapon a little tighter before climbing the rest of the stairs in a crouch. The blinds were closed and all Billie could tell was that there was someone sprawled across the bed.

"Mr. Randall?" she said loudly.

There was no answer.

"I do not fucking like this," Billie mumbled to herself as she stepped onto the landing. As soon as her vision adjusted Billie made out Burt Randall in a T-shirt and boxer shorts. There were two bloodstained holes in the T-shirt and a third in the center of Randall's forehead.

Chapter Forty-Four.

Daniel was fixing dinner in Kate's kitchen when he heard her car pull up. She was holding a roll of film when she walked in the door.

"What's that?"

"Photos of a secret meeting between Aaron Flynn and Susan Webster. Tomorrow morning, I'm going to have a talk with that little bitch. If she'll admit she's been working with Flynn to fix Insufort, we may be able to nail him."

"That's terrific," Daniel said.

The phone rang and Kate answered it. She listened intently for a moment, then swore.

"What's wrong?" Daniel asked.

"It's Billie," Kate told him. "Randall is dead, murdered."

Kate listened while Brewster described the crime scene.

"No sign of a struggle?" Kate asked.

"None," Billie told her.

"When was Randall killed?"

"Medical examiner's rough guess puts the death around the time Kaidanov got it, give or take an hour either way."

"It sounds like someone is tying up loose ends," Kate said. "Did you talk to Flynn?"

"Yeah, but I didn't get a thing. He was very nervous when I asked him about the call from the Benson. He denied talking to Arnold, even though the call lasted fifteen minutes. And he refused to let me see his time sheets so I could find out who was with him when the call came in. I'm sure he's hiding something."

"With Randall dead, we won't be able to prove that Flynn ordered him to bug Daniel's apartment."

"With Randall dead, we can't prove a thing against Flynn." Billie sighed. "I phoned Claude Bernier. He's still having trouble finding the negative. If we ever get a print of the photograph, and Flynn's in it, I might be able to get a search warrant for Flynn's time sheets."

"Go get some sleep," Kate said. "You sound all in."

"Good advice."

Kate hung up. "That was Billie Brewster. Burt Randall's been murdered."

"Then we're fucked. The cops are not going to go after someone like Aaron Flynn without proof."

"Maybe I can crack Susan with the photos when I-"

Kate froze. Then she smiled.

"What?" Daniel asked.

She started toward the door to her basement workshop.

"Come on. We're going to take a trip in cyberspace."

Daniel followed Kate downstairs. She flipped on the light and headed to one of her computers.

"One of the reasons Reed, Briggs hired me was to advise them on computer security. If you want to know how to protect files, you have to know how to invade them. I'm going to hack into Flynn's computer."

Kate checked her watch. "Flynn's employees should be home by now, so we're good to go."

"What are you looking for?" Daniel asked as Kate started pounding her keyboard.

"If he operates like most lawyers, Flynn posts his time sheets to his law office server," she answered while focusing her attention on her monitor. "They stay there until his secretary uploads them to her workstation when she does his billing. I should be able to access the time sheet for the fifteen minutes when Gene Arnold called Flynn's office. If someone was with Flynn when Arnold's call came in, we'll soon know."

"How are you going to get in?"

"That's simple. I'll access the files at Reed, Briggs and get Flynn's E-mail address. That'll give me his Internet Protocol address. Once I log onto Flynn's server, I'll use the software that found Kaidanov's password to get the password for Flynn's law office server. When I'm in, I can go to any file in the server and download any information in the file to my computer."

"It can't be that easy. What if Flynn has security?"

"He might have installed a firewall to block unauthorized intruders, but I doubt it's one I can't circumvent. The best defensive software has weaknesses. Even Microsoft has been hacked. I doubt Flynn put a lot of money into his security system. Most law firms don't."

"Can this be traced back to you?"

Kate laughed. "I'm going to give Flynn's server a frontal lobotomy when I'm through. I'll erase the transaction. It'll look like someone randomly logged on by mistake and was kicked off."

"You're sure about this?"

"Relax. This is what I do. In three to four hours we'll know the name of the person Flynn was with when Gene Arnold called."

Chapter Forty-five.

Alice Cummings lived in a cheap garden apartment behind a strip mall and a car wash a few blocks from Portland's worst commercial avenue. Daniel remembered how tired she had looked wheeling Patrick's stroller into Aaron Flynn's lobby on the day he delivered the boxes containing the discovery documents. She looked worse today.

When Cummings visited Flynn she'd been wearing makeup and a dress. When she opened the door, she was in soiled jeans and a stained sweatshirt and there was no mascara or pancake makeup to hide the lines that the pressure of raising a handicapped baby had etched in her face.

"Hi," Daniel said, flashing a pleasant smile. "You probably don't remember me, but Aaron Flynn introduced us about a month ago."

Alice examined Daniel's face. Her eyes lingered on the bandage that covered his head wound, but only for a moment. He hoped that she did not recognize him from one of the television news programs that had filmed him at the courthouse.

"We met in the lobby of Mr. Flynn's office. I was just leaving as you came in for your appointment."

Alice brightened. "Oh, yes. Now I remember. Did Mr. Flynn send you?"

"Can I come in?" Daniel answered, finessing the question.

Alice stepped aside and let Daniel into a small front room.

"How's Patrick?" he asked.

"He had a bad night, but he's sleeping now."

Daniel heard the resignation and exhaustion in Cummings's voice. Kate had looked up Alice in the records at the courthouse. Daniel knew that her husband had filed for divorce soon after Patrick's birth, which meant that she was raising her son alone.

"When he has a bad night yours must be rough, too," he said.

"My nights are never as bad as my baby's. Sometimes I wonder how he goes on, but he's never known anything else."

Alice rubbed her hands on her jeans and surveyed her front room. There was laundry on the sofa. She took a toy off an armchair and motioned Daniel toward it.

"Please, sit down. Can I get you some coffee?"

"I'm fine," Daniel said, waiting for Alice to push some of the laundry aside and take a seat before he sat down.

"Has Mr. Flynn heard anything?" she asked anxiously. "We're really counting on him."

"I'm not here about your case." Alice looked confused and Daniel felt horrible about deceiving her. "It's something Mr. Flynn wanted me to ask you about. Do you remember visiting his office in early March?"

She nodded. "That was my first time. I . . . I read about the Moffitts. I wanted to see if he could help me, too."

"So you remember the consultation?"

"Of course."

"Because a matter came up in another case I need your help with. It has to do with a phone call that Mr. Flynn insists that he received while you were with him. Another lawyer is claiming that the call never took place. Mr. Flynn's time sheets indicate that he was meeting with you when the call came in. Do you remember a call interrupting your meeting? Or the receptionist talking to Mr. Flynn over the intercom while you were with him?"

Alice thought about it for a moment. "Yes, I do. There was a call. Mr. Flynn apologized when his receptionist interrupted the meeting. And . . . Of course! Now I remember. Mr. Flynn was upset when his secretary buzzed him. He told her that he didn't want our meeting interrupted. She was speaking on an intercom and I heard her. She said the man was calling about a murder and was very insistent. That's one of the reasons I remember the call. I don't hear people discussing a murder very often."

"That's the call I need to know about," Daniel said, trying to sound businesslike. "Do you happen to remember the caller's name? That would be very helpful."

"His last name was Arnold," she said with a laugh. "My father's first name is Arnold, so I remember it perfectly."

Daniel laughed, too, even more enthusiastically than Mrs. Cummings.

"Wow," he said, "that was easy. Thanks."

"I'm glad I could help. Mr. Flynn has been so good to Patrick and me. I don't know what we'd do without him. He's going to get us the money for Patrick's operations. I don't have health insurance and my husband walked out when Patrick was born." She looked down. "He couldn't take it. He couldn't even look at Patrick," she said softly. "If Mr. Flynn wasn't fighting this case for us . . ."

Daniel felt sick inside, both for her plight and for deceiving her. He couldn't imagine how she would feel when Flynn was arrested and she learned that her suit against Insufort was baseless. Daniel said good-bye, feeling like the worst kind of traitor. Partway down the block he looked back. Alice Cummings smiled and waved hopefully from her front door. Daniel couldn't bring himself to wave back.

Chapter Forty-Six.

Susan Webster looked up when Kate Ross walked into her office and closed the door behind her.

"Yes?" Susan said.

Kate sat down without being asked and laid the envelope she was carrying on Webster's desk.

"It's Kate, right?" Webster asked after a moment of silence, annoyed when Kate continued to sit and stare.

"That's right."

"Why are you here?" Susan demanded.

"Show-and-tell," Kate said, opening the envelope and handing Susan a picture of her and Aaron Flynn standing outside the Midway Cafe.

Susan flushed, then glared at Kate. "How dare you follow me."

"If you don't like it, why don't we both go up to J. B. Reed's office? You can complain that I'm harassing you and I'll tell J.B. about your clandestine meeting with Aaron Flynn."

Susan gave herself time to calm down by looking at the photograph again.

"Why are you showing me this?" she asked.

"I want you to know that I'm onto your arrangement with Flynn."

"Aaron and I don't have an arrangement."

Kate smiled. "Beer and fried chicken never struck me as your cuisine of choice. I always pictured you as more the Pinot Noir and coq au vin type."

"Cute," Susan answered sarcastically, "but I didn't pick the restaurant. Aaron wanted to meet where no one would see us. He chose the Midway Cafe. As you said, I don't usually do business over fried chicken and beer. Neither does anyone else at Reed, Briggs, so we knew we'd be alone when we discussed settling the Geller case."

"Why would Flynn discuss a settlement with you? Brock Newbauer is the lead attorney."

Susan laughed. "Brock is clueless in a case of this complexity. Flynn knows I'm running the show. And he didn't want Brock around when he tried to bribe me." Kate's eyebrows went up. "Aaron offered me a job at his firm at significantly more than I'm making if I convince Geller to settle."

"Which I assume you're trying to do."

"Of course, but not because I plan to leave Reed, Briggs. The Insufort case is a sure loser in court. We have to settle to save the company."

"Was Arthur Briggs murdered so you could control the Insufort litigation?"

"What!"

"You can stop the act, Susan. I know you're helping Flynn fix the Insufort and Fairweather cases."

"What are you talking about?"

"Before Kaidanov died, he told Daniel that his study is a hoax. Flynn's plan is going to fail and you're going down with him."

"You better think twice before you threaten me, Ross."

"I don't make threats," Kate said. "Either you go to the police and confess or I'll make sure that J.B. and the DA learn about your deal with Flynn."

Susan shot to her feet. "Listen, you bitch. If you say one word of this to anyone, I'll sue you for slander and see that you're fired. Joe Molinari can't keep a secret. Everyone knows that Ames is staying with you. Why don't you tell J.B. your ridiculous theory and see if he believes you? But don't forget to tell him you're fucking the man who killed his best friend."

Kate colored, but she held her temper.

"I'll give you until the end of the day to decide what to do. After that, you're on your own."

Kate walked out and Susan slammed her hand on the desk. Was Ross bluffing, or would she really go to J. B. Reed? Then she suddenly realized that Kate had said that Daniel Ames could testify that Sergey Kaidanov's study was a hoax. She sat down heavily. Before he died did Kaidanov give Ames hard evidence to back up his claim?

Susan tried to calm down so she could think more clearly. After a moment she dialed Aaron Flynn's office.

Chapter Forty-Seven.

There was an urgent message from Amanda Jaffe for Daniel on the answering machine when Daniel returned to the house. He called her office immediately

"We have a problem," Amanda told him as soon as they were connected. "Mike Greene wants to reopen your bail hearing."

"How can he do that? The judge already ruled I could stay out."

"Mike has a witness who can corroborate April Fairweather's testimony."

"Who?" Daniel asked, alarmed.

"Did you call Renee Gilchrist after you heard Arthur Briggs's message on your answering machine?"

Daniel's face fell. "Oh, shit."

"I take it that's a yes?" Amanda said sharply. Daniel could tell that she was upset and disappointed in him. "It would have been nice if you'd let me know that there was a land mine right in front of us."

"I knew they'd interviewed Renee once. I didn't figure they would talk to her again."

"Well, they did. Someone dropped a dime on you."

"What's that mean?"

"An anonymous caller told Zeke Forbus to ask Gilchrist about a call you made to her on the day Briggs was shot. She told Forbus that you said Briggs wanted to meet that evening at the cottage where he was killed to talk about the Insufort case."

Daniel felt sick. "Greene let me go at the cemetery. He saw my head wound. I thought he was convinced that I'm innocent."

"No. He just had some reservations about last night's shooting, and Forbus is still certain that you killed Arthur Briggs. He's the one who's pushing Mike. Now tell me what happened with Renee Gilchrist."

"I couldn't figure out why Briggs wanted to see me," Daniel said, "so I called to talk to him. Only he'd left. So I asked Renee if she knew about a new development in the Insufort case that involved me. When she asked why I wanted to know, I told her about Briggs's call."

"You know what you said to her is admissible as an exception to the hearsay rule because you're the defendant," Amanda said. "The judge can consider your statements as proof that you intended to meet with Briggs."

"Do you think that's enough to change Judge Opton's decision on bail?"

"Come on, Daniel, be smart about this. Bail could end up being the least of our problems."

When Kate walked into her house, Daniel was sitting on the couch in the dark. One look told her that something was wrong.

"What happened?" she asked.

Daniel told her about Amanda Jaffe's call.

"I don't think Renee's testimony will be enough to convince the judge to deny bail," Kate said. "They still can't prove that you killed Briggs. The best they can do is place you at the crime scene."

"Renee can also corroborate Fairweather's testimony about my argument with Briggs after he fired me."

"How did things go with Cummings?" Kate asked to change the subject.

"I can prove that Flynn got a call from Gene Arnold," Daniel answered without looking at her. "Alice Cummings was in Flynn's office when Arnold called. She even remembers Arnold's name."

"That's great!"

"Yeah."

Daniel should have been thrilled, but he sounded depressed.

"What's going on, Dan?" Kate asked with concern.

"When we bring down Flynn, we'll also be destroying his suit against Geller."

"So? The suit shouldn't have been brought in the first place."

"But Flynn convinced Alice Cummings that it should. She lives in this tiny apartment. She has nothing. Her son, Patrick, desperately needs medical attention, and he's not going to get it because of us."

Kate sat on the couch next to Daniel.

"Remember, I told you that my sister went through this with her baby? She's a good person and no one knows why her baby was born the way it was. And remember what you told me about life being unfair, about bad things happening to people for no reason? It's true. We have to accept that, even when it's hard, even when we need something to rail against. Insufort is not responsible for Patrick's birth defect, and the courts aren't always the right place to go for help."

"I still feel like I robbed that poor woman. I used her to get at Flynn. The end result is that I'll be killing her dreams and Patrick's future."

"You have to bring down Flynn. He's a murderer."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

Kate put her arms around Daniel. "Don't get down on yourself, Daniel. You're a good man. I can see how hard this is for you, but we're so close. Don't fold when we're almost there."

Daniel sighed. "I'm okay. I just wish-"

Kate put a fingertip to his lips. "Don't," she said. Then she kissed him-once quickly, her lips lingering the second time. They looked at each other for a moment, then Daniel let himself go, losing himself in the contradictory softness of her breast and hard muscles of her back. After a moment they broke their kiss. Daniel closed his eyes and rested his cheek against her hair. It smelled sweet and felt so soft. Kate was a haven from all the bad things that had happened to him.

Daniel felt Kate move and he opened his eyes. She stood up and took his hand. "Come on," she said softly, pulling him slowly to his feet and toward the bedroom.

Chapter Forty-Eight.

The call from Susan Webster had confirmed Aaron Flynn's worst fears. Before he died, Kaidanov had told Daniel Ames that his study was a fraud. But Flynn didn't know if Ames could prove the study was a hoax. Without proof, all Geller would have was the hearsay testimony of a man charged with murder and Flynn was certain he could still force a settlement.

"Alice Cummings is on line two," Aaron Flynn's receptionist announced.

Flynn debated not taking the call for a moment, but little Patrick was worth a bundle if everything worked out.

"Good afternoon, Alice," Flynn said in his heartiest voice. "How's my boy?"

"He had a rough night."

"I'm so sorry. What can I do for you?"

"I hope I'm not interrupting, but it's been bothering me since your associate left. He never said if you needed me to sign anything about the phone call. I can come down anytime."

"The phone call?"

"From Mr. Arnold." Flynn's eyes shut reflexively and a sick feeling spread through his gut. "Your associate said a lawyer is claiming that you never talked with him, but I remember it very clearly. Did you want me to sign an affidavit?"

"What was this associate's name, Alice?"

"You know, I can't remember. I'm not certain he even told me. But you introduced us. It was several weeks ago. I wheeled Patrick into the lobby in his stroller and you brought him over to meet us."

Flynn felt a flash of fear.

"Ah, yes," he said. "Well, I appreciate your call, but I won't need you to sign anything. The matter has been resolved. Thank you for calling, though. Give Patrick a kiss for me," Flynn said as he hung up.

"Everything is falling apart," Aaron Flynn said as soon as he was through the front door. A look of panic was etched on his face. "Ames found the client who was with me when Gene called."

"How did he do that?"

"How the fuck should I know? He just did and she remembers Gene's call. She just phoned me. She wanted to know if I needed her to sign an affidavit that could be used as evidence. Jesus Christ!"

"You've got to calm down so we can think this out."

"There's nothing to think about. If that homicide detective, Brewster, finds out I lied about Gene's call, we're dead."

"Who is the client?"

"Alice Cummings, the mother of one of the Insufort brats."

"Where does she live?"

"I don't know offhand."

"But it's in your file?"

"I can get it."

"We have to kill her."

"What?"

"We have to kill her and Ames and Ross."

"You're insane."

Flynn felt a hand snake through his hair. Then warm lips brushed his and a hand stroked his crotch. It took all of his willpower, but he broke away and headed for the couch. Flynn heard a cruel laugh behind him.

"You didn't mind when I took care of Briggs, Kaidanov, and Randall. Why are you so squeamish now?"

"Alice is . . . She's just this woman."

"No, Aaron, she's not just some woman. The bitch is a witness who can put both of us on death row, not to mention rob us of millions we have worked very hard to earn." A hand strayed to his zipper. "I'll kill them to protect you-to protect us-so we can be together."

A finger brushed the tip of his penis, emphasizing the point.

"You can't do this again," Flynn protested weakly.

"We can do anything."

Flynn was having trouble thinking. There were warm lips on his, fingers stroking his nipples, and a hand as soft as silk inside his fly.

"If it bothers you, I'll take care of Cummings while you take care of Ames and Ross."

Flynn's eyes went wide. "I can't. I've never killed anyone before."

"It's easy, baby," he heard as his body moved against its will to the rhythm set by the fingertips, tongue, and lips that were everywhere at once. "I'll tell you how to do it. Besides, we don't have a choice. The cops don't know about Cummings yet. If they did, she wouldn't have called you. That means that Ross and Ames haven't told them yet. We've got a window of opportunity here, but we've got to move, and I can't be in two places at once."

Flynn wanted to protest, but he was having trouble thinking. One part of his brain knew that someone who killed so easily could kill him, too, but the part of Flynn's brain that craved sex whispered that he was safe because only he could collect the millions from the Insufort settlement. And his partner had sworn they would be together after he'd banked his attorney's fee, living on a beach in an exotic country with servants and hot sex whenever he wanted it. That's what he'd been told and he wanted to believe-had to believe to rationalize the things that had been done and would be done for the millions they craved.

_ _ _

Juan Fulano smiled as he pulled down the binoculars. He'd gotten a very good look at the person Flynn was meeting before the front door closed. Martin would be pleased. Fulano took out his phone and made a long-distance call to Desert Grove, Arizona.

Chapter Forty-Nine.

Kate's doorbell rang at two in the morning. After the third ring, she staggered out of bed in a T-shirt and sweatpants. Daniel pulled on a sweatshirt and followed her to the front door. Kate looked through the peephole and was surprised to see Aaron Flynn looking wild-eyed and agitated.

"It's two in the morning, Flynn. What's going on?" she asked.

"I'm desperate. We have to talk. I need help. I'm afraid."

Daniel and Kate looked at each other.

"Let him in," Daniel said. "This could be our break."

Kate opened the front door. Flynn had barely stepped inside when he turned and struck her viciously in the head with a gun butt, sending her into the wall. Daniel started forward as Kate slid to the floor, but Flynn extended a .22 pistol in his direction.

"Get inside," he ordered as he bolted the door.

Daniel hesitated.

"Do it," Flynn screamed, pointing the gun at Kate. His hand was shaking badly.

Kate was dazed. Blood trickled from a gash on her cheek. Daniel helped Kate to her feet and stepped backward into the living room.

"Why couldn't you stay out of this?" Flynn shouted. "Why did you have to go to Alice Cummings?"

Flynn was sweating and his eyes were wild. Daniel knew that he had to keep him talking.

"You framed me for murder," he said. "Now you're angry because I'm trying to clear my name?"

"You stupid bastard. You're going to die, your girlfriend is going to die, and Cummings is going to die, too, and it's your fault."

Daniel was stunned. "You don't have to kill Alice."

"You put her in this position."

Kate sat on the arm of the couch and put a hand to her head. Daniel took a step forward.

"Stop! I will kill you," Flynn said as if to reassure himself that he could do it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel saw Kate pull herself together. She was taking in the situation, focusing on Flynn.

"I know you've got someone at Reed, Briggs who's helping you," Daniel said to Flynn. "Tell the cops who it is. We can help you cut a deal."

Kate stood up.

"Goddamn it, stop," Flynn shouted as he moved the gun between Daniel's body and Kate's. He'd been told to kill them quickly and get out, but he was having trouble pulling the trigger.

Daniel lunged. Flynn fired into his torso. Daniel grunted with pain as he hit Flynn with every ounce of his strength. Flynn staggered into the door and fired again, shocked that Daniel hadn't fallen. The second shot stunned Daniel, but he still had enough strength to drive his thumb into Flynn's eye. Flynn screamed. Daniel's knees gave way. Flynn lashed out, using the gun as a club, and knocked Daniel to the floor. As he fell Kate made a spearhead with her rigid fingers and struck Flynn in the larynx. His hands flew to his throat and the gun dropped to the floor.

Flynn had trouble seeing and breathing, but he lashed out with a wild punch that caught Kate in the temple, dazing her. Flynn grabbed Kate by the throat. She tried to break the hold, but he kneed her in the stomach and she sagged. A blow to Flynn's crotch went wide and glanced off his thigh. Kate couldn't breathe. Her sight dimmed and she lashed out ineffectively in a panic. Flynn smashed her head into the wall and her body grew limp. Then there was an explosion. Blood bathed the side of Flynn's head and the grip on her throat relaxed.

Kate staggered away from Flynn and gasped for air. Flynn fell to the ground. Daniel was on one knee holding Flynn's gun. Then he toppled over on his back and clutched his stomach, now saturated with blood.

Kate dropped beside him. "Oh, God! Daniel!"

A wave of nausea swept through him. Daniel's vision blurred, but he forced himself to speak.

"Nine-one-one," he croaked. "Save Alice Cummings."

"Don't talk," Kate said as she pulled up his shirt so she could see the bullet wounds. Daniel tried to give Kate Alice Cummings's address but he felt like he was lost in a patch of fog. He knew that Kate was talking to him because he could see her lips move, but he couldn't hear her words. Those lips were the last thing he saw before he slipped away.

Chapter Fifty.

Aaron Flynn's partner pulled on a ski mask and cut across a yard that backed on the ground-floor garden apartment where Alice Cummings lived. A door at the back of the house opened onto the postage-stamp-size patch of lawn, which was enclosed by a low wood fence. The screen door was unlocked and the lock would not be much of a challenge. The plan was to jimmy the lock and cut the bitch's throat. To kill or not to kill the kid, that was the question. If he was as fucked up as Flynn said, the brat was probably better off dead.

The door only took a few minutes to open. Flynn's partner pulled a hunting knife from a sheath and took a step into the apartment.

Alice Cummings sat up in bed. Her clock read 2:13. The house was quiet, but she was certain that a noise had awakened her. Maybe Patrick was having a dream and made the noise in his sleep, because he was quiet now.

Alice lay down and closed her eyes. It was always a blessing when Patrick slept. She'd put him down at ten and crashed immediately. Five hours was good.

Alice's eyes opened wide again. She was certain that she'd just heard something. She slipped out of bed and walked to the bedroom door, which she always kept open so she could hear Patrick, and peered into the front room. Nothing seemed out of place.

The only part of the apartment she couldn't see was the kitchen, which was at the back. She edged along the wall. As soon as she turned the corner Alice saw that the back door was open.

The moment Flynn's partner took a step into Alice Cummings's apartment, a sixth sense warned her of danger. She was half turned when a damp ether-soaked cloth pressed across her mouth and nose and a muscular arm circled her chest, pinning her arms to her side. She tried to kick free as she was hoisted off her feet. She knew she only had moments before she passed out. In desperation she raised her heel and jammed it down on her attacker's instep. He swore, but his grip did not weaken. As she was dragged back across the lawn she saw the stars swirling above her, twisting in faster circles.

Alice froze at the entrance to the kitchen. Was someone in her house? Was Patrick safe? She switched on a light as she rushed to his room. His door was open. She stopped at the railing to his crib. He was curled on his side, breathing fitfully but sound asleep.

Relieved, Alice checked the rest of the small apartment. When she returned to the kitchen a cold wind swept through the door. She shivered as she pushed it shut. Then she turned the lights off so she could see outside, pressing her nose to the kitchen window to see every inch of the yard and beyond. She saw nothing strange. But someone had definitely tried to get in. Why had they left? Who had they been?

Chapter Fifty-One.

Kate tried to keep her face neutral when the police guard showed her into Daniel's hospital room. There were bruises on her face and the gash on her cheek had required stitches. But Daniel's injuries had been far more severe.

"You look awful," she said.

"Gee thanks," he said, his voice subdued by painkillers. "You look pretty ugly yourself."

Kate smiled, relieved that he could joke. "That picked my spirits up." She sat down next to Daniel's bed. "Now I'm going to pick up yours. Amanda and I had a long talk with Mike Greene. I think we convinced him that Flynn framed you. Amanda is pretty certain your case will be dismissed by the time you're discharged. Also, Alice Cummings is okay. When the police got to her house she told them that someone tried to break in. Her back door was wide open. But nothing happened."

Suddenly Daniel grimaced. Kate took his hand. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. My meds must be wearing off. But I'll be fine. The bullets went through my small bowel. I only had to have minor surgery. I should be out of here in a few days."

"Charging Flynn's gun was very brave. You saved my life."

Daniel smiled. "Turnabout is fair play. Besides, I wasn't worried. I remembered what you said."

Kate looked confused. "About what?"

"You know, about how being shot in real life is different from TV. Flynn's gun was a twenty-two. I knew it wouldn't pack the wallop of a larger-caliber gun, and I knew you knew all that judo stuff." Daniel shrugged. "I figured I'd get in a few good punches to soften him up and you'd finish him off and call the medics."

Kate looked horrified. "You idiot. That only works if you're shot in the body. You'd be dead if Flynn had shot you in the head."

Daniel's eyes widened in mock horror. "You never told me that," he said. Then he laughed.

Kate shook her head. "You really are hopeless. I'm going to have to stick around to baby-sit you."

Billie Brewster knocked on the door.

"Thought I'd drop by and see how you're doing," she said.

"What happened with Webster?" Kate asked. Then she turned back to Daniel. "Billie questioned her today."

"Either she's innocent or she's got ice water for blood," Billie said.

"Did you hit her with the photographs?"

"She's sticking with the story she told you. She denies having anything to do with fixing cases for Flynn and she's got an answer for everything."

Billie suddenly remembered the envelope she was carrying. "By the way, I got this in the mail. It's Bernier's photograph. Flynn is in it, but Webster isn't. I thought you might be able to tell me who the woman is."

Kate took out the photograph. Daniel leaned over to see it.

"Oh, shit," Kate said, and she suddenly knew why Gene Arnold had almost fainted when he saw Claude Bernier's photograph.

Chapter Fifty-Two.

Anna Cordova escorted Kate Ross and Billie Brewster across the terrace to the poolside table where Martin Alvarez was waiting. Alvarez stood as Kate introduced the detective.

"Claude Bernier finally sent us a copy of the photograph that Gene Arnold bought in New York. Flynn is in it, and we've identified the woman he's with."

"Really. Who is she?"

"Renee Gilchrist, a secretary at Reed, Briggs," Kate said. "Flynn represented the plaintiffs in a number of lawsuits that my firm was defending. We think that Gilchrist was working with Flynn to fix those cases."

"What does she say about that?" Alvarez asked.

"We haven't been able to ask her," Billie answered. "She disappeared the same day that Flynn was killed."

"That would certainly indicate guilt, wouldn't it?" Alvarez said.

"It's definitely suspicious."

"Do you think this woman was involved in Gene's murder?"

"Yes, we do," Billie said. "That's why we're here. Kate has a theory about why Mr. Arnold was killed and she thinks you can help us find out if it's correct."

Alvarez spread his hands. "Anything I can do . . ."

Kate took Bernier's photograph out of the envelope she was holding and set it on the table. Alvarez showed no emotion as he studied the photograph.

"Is that Melissa Arnold, Gene's wife?" Kate asked. "The woman who was supposed to have been kidnapped and murdered seven years ago?"

Alvarez nodded slowly. His eyes never left the photograph.

"Here's what Billie and I think happened," Kate said. "When the FBI botched the arrest at the drop site, McCann got away with the ransom money, but Lester Dobbs was arrested. Dobbs cut a deal and named McCann, the only other person in the plot that he could identify. McCann was arrested quickly, but not before he hid the ransom money.

"I'm guessing that McCann refused to tell Melissa where the money was unless she got him out of jail. There was also the threat that he would cut a deal to save himself. That's when Melissa conceived the brilliant idea of faking her kidnapping.

"Looking back, Melissa had to have been involved. When she faked her own kidnapping, she only asked for seventy-five thousand dollars, instead of the million dollars she asked from you. Seventy-five grand was an amount that Gene Arnold could cover from his retirement account. Melissa would have known Arnold's financial situation."

"Of course," Billie interjected, "Melissa's kidnapping was only a smoke screen to cover up the real reason for her plan: the destruction of her court reporter notes, which would force the judge to order a new trial. After she murdered Lester Dobbs, the court had to let McCann out of jail and she was able to kill the only witness who could identify her and get away with the money. No one thought Flynn was involved, so he was home free. Even McCann might not have known. And no one was looking for Melissa, because everyone thought that she had suffered the same fate as your wife.

"Then Mr. Arnold saw Melissa and Flynn in Bernier's photograph and flew to Portland. He phoned Flynn from his hotel the day he landed. Flynn or Melissa killed him and burned the body in the lab."

Alvarez shook his head. "I can't believe it, but it must be true."

Kate studied him carefully. She was certain that her news had not come as a surprise.

"It's too bad we can't find Melissa," Brewster said. "Whoever burned down the lab was bitten by a rhesus monkey. The medical examiner has a swab with material she found on the monkey's teeth. If we had Melissa we could run a DNA test that would prove she was at the lab. We also have an impression of the monkey's teeth that we could match to any bite marks she has on her shoulder."

"Do you have any leads?" Alvarez asked.

"Actually, we do," Billie answered. "It's another reason we came to see you. Claude Bernier called me, yesterday. His conscience was bothering him. It seems that a Hispanic gentleman visited him the day after Kate told you about Mr. Bernier's photograph. He called himself Juan Fulano. I'm told, by a Hispanic friend, that Juan Fulano is the Spanish equivalent of `John Smith.' Is he right, Mr. Alvarez?"

"Yes."

"Fulano wanted to purchase a copy of Bernier's photograph, but he paid Mr. Bernier to do something else. Can you guess what that was?"

"I have no idea," Alvarez answered coolly.

"Mr. Fulano asked Bernier to hold off sending us the photograph until he gave the okay. Paid extra for the favor. Then, the day after Melissa Arnold disappeared, Fulano gave the okay to send the photo to Portland. Interesting, no?"

"I'm afraid I don't follow you."

"Don't you, Mr. Alvarez?" Billie asked. "You know, I made some inquiries about you to police acquaintances in Mexico and Arizona. They say you're straight now-have been for a while. But they say you ran with a very rough crowd early on. The type of people who would think nothing of abduction or murder."

Alvarez did not act offended by the accusation. "Your information is correct. I was very wild in my youth. But those days are behind me."

Billie stared hard at Alvarez. He returned the stare without blinking.

"If I asked you to predict the future would you hazard a guess for me?" the homicide detective asked.

"I have no psychic powers, Detective."

"I give you my promise that your answer will stay with the three of us."

Alvarez considered Billie's request for a moment. "Ask your question."

"My department has limited funds. I'd rather spend them on crime fighting than on a wild-goose chase. What would you guess my chances are of finding Melissa Arnold alive?"

As Alvarez thought about the question he looked at the two women. They stared back impassively. Alvarez made a decision.

"Melissa is a very clever woman, as you have discovered. My guess would be that someone so clever would be able to disappear without a trace. Whether she is alive or dead is not for me to say, but I would guess that she will never be found."

Then Alvarez shrugged and his features softened. "But the police have all sorts of modern devices I know nothing about. Really, crime detection is not my area of expertise."

Billie stood and Kate rose with her. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Alvarez," the detective said. "Kate has told me how deeply you loved your wife. I'm sorry if we uncovered old wounds."

Kate picked up the photograph and replaced it in the envelope. Alvarez did not glance at it.

As soon as the women were out of sight, he entered his office and closed the door. Then he took a copy of Claude Bernier's photograph from a wall safe concealed behind a small painting. He studied it one last time, then set it on fire. As Melissa Arnold's image burned, Alvarez turned toward the photograph of Patty Alvarez that stood in a prominent place on his desk. A tear appeared at the edge of Alvarez's good eye. He made no effort to wipe it away. He dropped the burning photograph in a wastepaper basket and watched it turn to ash.

"It's over, Patty," he whispered. "It's over."

Chapter Fifty-Three.

"Come in, Joe," J. B. Reed said as his secretary showed Joe Molinari into his corner office. Reed was puzzled by Molinari's visit since he was not working on any of Reed's cases. To be honest, he only remembered Molinari's name because his secretary had told it to him when she buzzed him to say that one of the associates wanted to talk to him.

"What can I do for you?" Reed asked as Molinari sat down. He noticed that Molinari did not seem nervous or deferential the way most of the new associates were in his presence.

"Something is going on that you need to know about."

"Oh?"

"Just before he died, Mr. Briggs fired Daniel Ames." Reed's features clouded when Molinari mentioned his friend's murder and accused murderer. "That was wrong."

"I don't see how any of this is your business, Mr. Molinari," Reed snapped.

Molinari met Reed's fierce gaze and returned one of his own.

"It's my business," Joe said forcefully, "because Dan is a friend of mine and someone has to tell you what he's done for this firm and Geller Pharmaceuticals."

_ _ _

Daniel was engrossed in a thriller when J. B. Reed and Isaac Geller walked into his hospital room. Daniel paused in mid-sentence and stared, as surprised by their appearance as he would have been if Mark McGwire and President Bush had strolled into his room.

"How are you feeling?" J. B. Reed asked.

"Okay," Daniel answered tersely.

"I've come to apologize for agreeing to have you fired," Reed said.

Daniel waited for Reed to go on. The senior partner saw how tense Daniel looked and he smiled.

"I don't blame you for being very angry with our firm, but we didn't have the whole picture until Joe Molinari explained everything to me."

"Joe?"

Reed nodded. "You have some very loyal friends at Reed, Briggs. I've also spoken to Kate Ross. Molinari came to my office two days ago and read me the riot act. Said the firm owed you an apology. When he finished explaining what you'd risked for our client, I called Isaac immediately."

"I don't believe I'm exaggerating when I say that your actions may have saved my company, Mr. Ames," Geller told him. "If Flynn's scheme had worked we would have had to take Insufort off the market and I can't begin to imagine how much the company would have lost paying off legal judgments."

"I know there is no way to repay you for what you've gone through," Reed said. "The disgrace of being fired, the time you spent in jail, not to mention being shot . . . It's terrible, and I sincerely regret any part Reed, Briggs had in your ordeal, but Mr. Geller and I want to try to make it up to you. I want you back at the firm and we're prepared to give you a hefty raise."

"And Geller Pharmaceuticals wants to reward you with a substantial bonus," Isaac Geller added.

Daniel was stunned and did not answer right away.

Reed smiled broadly, fully expecting Daniel to leap at his peace offering. After all, what young lawyer in his right mind would reject a chance to work at Reed, Briggs?

"I know this must come as a shock, so there's no reason to rush your decision," Reed said. "Concentrate on getting well and call me at your convenience."

"I am overwhelmed by your generosity," Daniel said, thanking both men, "but I don't need any time to think. Actually, I've had plenty of time to think while I was in jail and while I've been recuperating. I appreciate the offer to come back to Reed, Briggs, but I don't really fit in at the firm. I respect the work you do, but I would be more comfortable working at a smaller firm, one that represents the type of person I grew up with, people who don't have anyone else to look out for them."

"Surely you must see how much good a company like Geller can do," Reed said, amazed at Daniel's rejection of his generous offer.

"I do, and I know how sleazy and dishonest a lawyer like Flynn can be, but you'll always be able to find top-notch lawyers to represent your clients, Mr. Reed. You pay for the best and you get the best." Daniel smiled. "I don't know where I fit in, but I'd like to try and level the playing field a little."

"Well, if that's what you want, you must do what you think is best. But the offer is open if you change your mind."

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

Reed started to leave.

"You know, there is one thing you two can do for me, if you're still feeling generous."

"What's that?" Isaac Geller asked.

Chapter Fifty-Four.

Daniel woke up slowly to the sound of the surf. When he opened his eyes he could see sunlight through the thin curtains that covered the picture window in the bedroom of the beach house. He stretched and smiled. The first thing Amanda had said when Judge Opton dismissed all the charges against him was, "I bet you've never had a job interview like this before." Then she offered Daniel the use of her beach house so he could get away from Portland and the press. His interview with the rest of the partners at Jaffe, Katz, Lehane and Brindisi was set for next Wednesday.

Daniel hoped that he would get the job with Amanda's firm, but he had no regrets about turning down J. B. Reed. Amanda Jaffe had let him see firsthand that there was another, better, way to use his law degree. Still, Daniel had not walked away from his meeting with J. B. Reed and Isaac Geller empty-handed. Alice Cummings would not have to worry about Patrick's medical expenses anymore. Daniel had sold Isaac Geller on the public relations benefits that Geller Pharmaceuticals would reap by agreeing to help Alice's son. Daniel didn't want any credit for the good deed. Knowing that Patrick would have a chance at a normal life was payment enough.

Daniel rolled onto his side and noticed that Kate was not in bed. In the past few days he had learned that she was an early riser. Daniel smiled at the thought of her.

Amanda's house stood on a bluff overlooking the Pacific, which was calm today. Last night, Kate and Daniel had sipped hot buttered rum and let the heat from the bedroom fireplace warm them while they watched a brutal storm assault the beach. This morning, the sand was littered with driftwood.

Daniel washed up and found Kate on the phone in the kitchen. She smiled when he walked in. He poured a glass of orange juice and sat down at the kitchen table while Kate finished her call.

"That was Billie," she said as soon as she hung up. "She found out some more information about Gilchrist. Her name was originally Melissa Haynes. Her father was a colonel in the army. He was away a lot and she grew up wild. Billie says she had a string of juvenile arrests, some involving violence, but her father used his influence to get her out of most of her scrapes.

"When she turned eighteen Melissa left home and moved to California. She married an actor wannabe, but the marriage lasted less than a year. She went to secretarial school, then learned how to be a court reporter. Gene Arnold met her during a deposition in L.A."

"Is Billie certain that Renee was Flynn's partner?"

"She'll probably never be able to prove it, but everything makes sense if Renee was the mole at Reed, Briggs. She was in a perfect position to slip the Kaidanov letter into the discovery and send Amanda the videotape. If Kaidanov called Briggs at his office to arrange the meeting at the cottage, Renee would have answered the phone and could have eavesdropped on their conversation. But there's something else that convinces me that Renee is guilty.

"We were never able to figure out why Arthur Briggs wanted April Fairweather to meet him at the cottage on the night he was killed."

"Right. It made no sense, since her case and the Insufort case were totally unrelated."

"I'm certain that Briggs never wanted Fairweather at the cottage. Renee was in the waiting area when Fairweather saw you blow up at Briggs. I bet she heard Briggs leave the message on your answering machine asking you to meet him at the cottage. I think Renee told Fairweather to go to the cottage so she would see you leaving after Briggs was murdered. With you as the main suspect, no one would look at anyone else. But better still, Renee knew that your lawyer would use the videotape to thoroughly discredit Fairweather when she was under oath, assuring another hefty attorney fee for Flynn that she would share."

"Renee probably made the anonymous call that tipped off Zeke Forbus about my call to her."

"That's my guess. But I don't think we'll ever know for certain."

Daniel stood up and took Kate in his arms. "I don't want to talk about the case anymore. We're out here to forget about it."

"If you don't want to talk about the case, what do you want to do?" Kate asked mischievously.

"I'd like to kiss you, but I'm afraid you'll use your self-defense moves on me."

"I might if there was a bed nearby."

"I guess ugly women need judo to get a handsome guy like me in the sack."

The next thing Daniel knew, Kate was behind him and had him in a hammerlock. The idea of resisting never entered his mind.