“I would never have deserted you, Doug. I love you. I would have stood by you.”
“You say that now.”
“I’m here for you now.”
Doug looked down. “I don’t want you to be here for me. I want you to file for divorce. I’ve thought about this a lot, Marsha. You’re young, you’re beautiful and smart. I don’t want you wasting your life out of a misguided sense of loyalty.”
Doug looked through the glass. Marsha had never seen anyone look as sad as Doug.
“This is our reality now,” he said. “I’m never getting out of prison, not ever. I don’t want you sitting by yourself in some cheap apartment for the rest of your life, waiting for the next visiting day at the Oregon State Penitentiary. You have to think of me as if I died, because it will be the same thing.”
Doug choked up. “I ruined my life thirty years ago when I made my decision to lie about graduating from law school,” Doug said when he regained his composure. “I couldn’t admit that I’d failed, and I never imagined that there would be consequences. I fooled myself then, but I’m facing reality now, and you have to do the same thing.”
Marsha looked sick.
“You have to leave me. If you don’t, I’ll find a way to kill myself. If I don’t have the nerve to commit suicide, I’ll get a prisoner to do it.” Doug smiled. “Finding someone who’ll kill me for a price shouldn’t be hard where I’m going.”
“Oh, Doug. Please don’t say that.”
“Then promise me that you’ll never visit me again; that you’ll get a divorce and find someone who is worthy of you. I’ve never been. You should be able to see that now.” Doug pressed his hand to the glass.
Marsha started to raise her hand to cover his, but she stopped halfway. Then she looked into Doug’s eyes, broke into tears, and ran away.
Doug watched her go until she disappeared from view. The phone Marsha had held dropped to the end of its cord. It swayed back and forth like a pendulum until the last evidence that the woman he’d loved and killed for had ever been on the other side of the bulletproof glass stopped moving.
Doug waited until he had regained his composure before he signaled for the guard. When the door to the cell block opened, Doug stood slowly, his shoulders slumped, bent slightly, walking like a much older man.
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
Being responsible for sending a client to prison should have had an adverse effect on a criminal lawyer’s business, but Robin’s caseload increased dramatically with every news story about the Armstrong case—proving the old adage that there is no such thing as bad publicity.
Robin was so busy that she rarely thought about Randi Stark or Blaine Hastings. She’d told Randi that she did not want to represent her anymore, and she’d given her the names of several excellent attorneys who could handle her suit against Blaine, so she didn’t have to think about the case anymore.
Jeff was bound by the attorney–client privilege because he was an agent of the firm. She had told him why she dropped Randi as a client. He could see that she was troubled, and he tried to make Robin feel better by pointing out that Hastings deserved to be in prison, but Robin was still troubled.
Fall was starting to morph into winter on a dark November day when Robin’s receptionist told her that Amanda Jaffe, a well-known Oregon criminal defense attorney, was in the waiting room. Jaffe was tall and athletic with high cheekbones, clear blue eyes, and black hair that tumbled over broad shoulders that were sculpted during years of high-level competitive swimming. Robin had gotten to know and respect Amanda when they’d represented clients in a monthlong federal drug conspiracy case.
“What’s up?” Robin asked when Amanda was seated.
“I was just hired by a former client of yours, Randi Stark.”
Robin stopped smiling. “Is this the civil suit against Blaine Hastings?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll have the files sent over to you.”
“Can you tell me why you got off the case?”
“No.”
Amanda waited for an explanation, then realized that none would be forthcoming. “Have you heard about Hastings’s parents?”
“I’ve tuned out the case since I stopped representing Randi. What happened?”
“Senior entered a plea to obstruction of justice for his hand in the DNA scam. Vanessa dropped the case against Mrs. Hastings in exchange for the plea. Senior will go to jail, but he’ll probably get an early parole. Junior hasn’t been sentenced yet, because he was on the run—but he’ll be back in court next week, and I expect Judge Redding is going to throw the book at him for the rape and for jumping bail.”
Robin nodded but didn’t say anything.
Amanda cocked her head. “What’s troubling you? Is it something I need to know to represent Randi?”
Robin shook her head. “Go full bore for Randi. She deserves to be represented by a good lawyer. If you win, don’t worry. Justice will be served.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
Snow was a rare sight in the Willamette Valley, but the last days of December had brought three days of freezing temperatures accompanied by a light dusting of snow to downtown Portland. Robin had grown up in the Midwest, so the weather didn’t bother her and was a pale reminder of the mountain-high snowdrifts and blustery winter storms of her youth.
Robin was on her way to the Pacific Northwest Bank building to negotiate a case. As she walked into the lobby, she remembered that this building had once housed the law firm of Nylander & Armstrong. Robin looked at her phone. She was early for her meeting. On a whim, she pressed the button for the eleventh floor. When she got out of the elevator, she saw someone walking out of the insurance company offices on one side of the corridor. When she looked in the other direction, she saw glass doors, but she did not see any writing on them that indicated that law had once been practiced behind them.
Robin peered through the glass. There was nothing to see: no serious associates hustling between the offices, no desks, chairs, or computers. What had once been the scene of merry chaos was now inhabited only by ghosts.
Robin stared for a moment more before taking a deep breath and walking back to the elevator.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As usual, I had a lot of help in writing and researching this novel. I want to thank Earl S. Ward, for helping me understand the way probalistic genotyping is used in connection with DNA evidence and Dennis Balske, for providing me with cases that discussed a fascinating legal issue.
My editor, Keith Kahla, helped turn my initial flawed efforts into a finished product that I hope readers found entertaining. Thanks also for the fantastic support I received from Hector DeJean, Martin Quinn, Alice Pfeifer, Sally Richardson, Eliani Torres, Ken Silver, and David Rotstein at St. Martin’s.
Thanks, as always, to my amazing agent, Jennifer Weltz, and everyone else at the Jean V. Naggar Literary Agency. You are the best.
Thanks, too, to the home team, Ami, Andy, Daniel, Amanda, Loots, Marissa, and my wife, Melanie Nelson, who helped me find happiness again.
ALSO BY PHILLIP MARGOLIN
Heartstone
The Last Innocent Man
Gone, But Not Forgotten
After Dark
The Burning Man
The Undertaker’s Widow
The Associate
Sleeping Beauty
Lost Lake
Worthy Brown’s Daughter
Woman with a Gun
Vanishing Acts (with Ami Margolin Rome)