Evidence of Guilt (43 page)

"No, it feels nice."

He worked carefully, taking care not to disturb the bandaged wound on my right arm. I'd been lucky; the bullet had only grazed the surface. Six inches to the left and I might be dead.

Sam had been lucky too. He was still hospitalized but improving. I had my doubts that he'd ever regain his full strength, however, or his zest for life. He'd saved a client but lost a friend--and, I imagined, a good bit of faith in his fellow man.

"Wes called while you were asleep," Tom said. "He wanted to see how you were doing."

"Probably better than he is."

"He walked out of jail a free man. He ought to be happy."

As with Sam, I was sure there were shadows cast on Wes's inventory of things to be grateful for. "It must be hard knowing that the man you think of as a father, one of the few people in your life who's treated you decently, was not only a killer but willing to let you take the blame for it."

I reached for my drink and took another swallow. The

icy cold liquid soothed my throat, loosened the stiffness in my muscles. "You know those porno films Wes was keeping for a friend? They were Jake's. Wes was willing to damage his own credibility to protect his stepfather. And look what he got in return."

"Do you think Jake would have let Wes be convicted without admitting his guilt?"

"I don't know. Neither does Wes."

Tom sighed. "Between his father and Willis, Wes really got shafted." The undergarments in the compost bin had been Willis's doing. Complete with his own type B blood.

I pressed the cool glass against my forehead. "I never thought Curt would stoop to something like that."

"The guy's got no morals, just unbridled ambition."

"And arrogance," I added. "Rather than trust the system to mete out justice, he wanted to tip the scales in his favor."

"It's frightening to think that he might have succeeded."

How close he came to succeeding, I amended silently.

Tom lifted my hair and kissed the back of my neck. "Be back in a minute. I've got to check on the steaks."

I leaned back and closed my eyes. If Jake hadn't been so anxious to get me off the case, if he hadn't panicked and shown his hand, if he'd sent Sally Baund to Europe instead of Boston, the chances were good that he'd have gotten away with it. And what about Wes? Would Sam and I have been able to persuade the jury to find reasonable doubt? I didn't like thinking about the way things might have gone.

Tom returned smelling of hickory smoke and teriyaki sauce.

The upside of all this," he said, sitting next to me, "is that you've earned yourself a reputation as one hell of a lawyer."

I laughed. "That's all I've earned, though. Jake never got around to paying us a single cent."

Tom draped an arm across my shoulder and gently pulled me closer. "I suppose there are worse things in life than a skimpy bank account."

There certainly were. I sank back against the solid comfort of Tom's body. Fortunately, in my life, there were better things as well.