Gundown (19 page)

The last thing he saw before he passed out, his cheek jammed into the sweet-smelling, cool grass, was Noah Stone. Hank’s vision seemed to telescope in to Stone’s face. He saw horror. Fear. And regret.

• • •

Long after the shooting, after the arrest, after the crowd had been interviewed and dispersed, after Noah Stone had been whisked away in an ambulance, after the gunman’s body had been carted off in a coroner’s van, after the shooter was handcuffed and shoved into a police car, Marion sat on the lawn.

She sat surprised by the emotion that had flashed through her when she realized that the assassin’s shot had not killed Noah Stone.

Relief. No, it was more. She would have been relieved if anyone had been spared an assassin’s bullet. This was joy.

Was she falling under Noah Stone’s spell? She shook that silly thought away. She was just in a kind of mental shock.

But she was no longer thinking about Noah Stone as the enemy. If only he weren’t behind the constitutional heresy that—

A police officer stopped beside her. “You okay? Need any help?”

She did, but not the kind a cop could give. She smiled, extended her hand, and said, “Maybe a hand getting up.” The officer nodded, pulled her to her feet, and strolled on.

At the hotel that night, thoughts hammered at her until scotch silenced them and she slept.

• • •

A cop drove Jewel to Franklin’s house after taking her statement. Franklin rose from the porch swing, then cried out when he saw her bloody clothes. She had to relive the shooting to tell Franklin about it.

She didn’t tell him people said Earl had tried to kill Noah Stone. That had to be a mistake—she was sure there was a good reason Earl had had a gun. After all, he’d been talking about the right to carry one.

Franklin stared into the night, struck dumb.

Shock still damming up her emotions, Jewel stumbled into the house—so quiet without Earl’s classical music, so dark without his smile. She found Chloe safely asleep. She showered, scrubbing until it hurt to get Earl’s blood off, and then threw her bloody clothes into the garbage.

In her bed and still awake when Franklin passed by on the way to his bedroom, her dry eyes focused on the ceiling, his sobs pierced her. His tears opened the valve that had closed hers off.

She cried into her pillow.

Hello, Hoosegow

In the limbo before becoming fully awake, images flickered through Hank’s mind. Earl Emerson aiming his pistol at Noah. His own gun firing. Earl falling. Jewel shooting him with that silly excuse for a weapon. His helpless fall to the ground—

He opened his eyes to a sunrise framed by a barred window in a gray concrete-block wall.

He sat up and discovered that he was on a bunk in a cell. His hands were free of tangle. His mind seemed clear. He called out, “Hey, anybody there?”

The door opened and Tom, the cop from the park, came in. His manner was stiff and formal. “Yes, Mr. Soldado.”

“What am I doing in here?”

“Being held for the inquiry.”

“Into what?

“You don’t remember?”

Hank stifled a rush of irritation. “I remember just fine. And I don’t remember doing anything that would put me in a cell.”

“You killed a man—”

“Who was about to kill the heart and soul of the Alliance.”

Tom finished, “—with an illegal firearm.”

“Yeah, but there was no time—”

The cop held his hand up. “Save it for the inquiry.”

Hank wasn’t going to get an ounce more out of this guy. “Do I get a phone call? Can I have a lawyer?”

“Sure. All the calls you want. And the Alliance will make sure you have an advocate, or you can hire your own lawyer if you’d rather do that.” He unclipped a cell phone from his belt and passed it through the bars. “I’ll be back.”

Hank searched his memory for Mitch’s number and dialed.

“Mitch Parsons here, how can I help you?”

“This is Hank. I’m about to explore the workings of Oregon’s justice system from the wrong side of the bars, and I thought you should know what’s going on.”

“I saw the story on the news. Jesus, what a mess. You okay?”

“Physically, yeah. There’s some kind of inquiry, and they say the Alliance will help by providing what they call an advocate. I guess that’s a defense lawyer.”

“Can I do anything to help?”

“Just stay tuned, I may need something along the way.”

“You got it.”

Hank ended the call. He gripped the bars that enclosed him.

God, he hated being caged.

He eyed the room and studied the bars, doors, windows, looking for anything that could lead to escape.

• • •

Jewel faced the bathroom mirror, dried her eyes, and started putting on her mascara for the second time. She’d been doing okay until Franklin flicked on the TV news.

She’d gone into the living room just as the local reporter said, “Police believe last night’s assassination attempt on Noah Stone would have been successful if it hadn’t been for the heroic actions of a newcomer to the Alliance organization, Hank Soldado.”

Franklin had turned to her, shock on his face. “Assassination?”

“No way, that’s wrong.”

The reporter continued, “According to authorities, the gunman, a local set designer, was also an expert marksman. The gun he used was a lethal firearm, which wounded Stone in the shoulder.”

Franklin groaned. “Oh, no-o-o.”

Jewel went to him and wrapped her arms around him. “It’s a mistake, I just know it is.”

The TV picture had widened to show the reporter with another man behind the news desk. The reporter said, “With us is legal reporter Jim Bosley. Jim, can you tell us why Hank Soldado is in jail even though he is being hailed as a hero? Isn’t what he did a form of self-defense?”

“Well, there are technicalities about the weapon he used to stop the attacker.”

Jewel had slammed off the television, tears spreading mascara streaks. She said, “He kills a man and it’s just ‘technicalities’? God, this sucks.”

Jewel’s journey in Franklin’s cab to interview for the job at the Alliance was sad and silent. She rode in front with him, Chloe between them, and he gave her a hug before she got out. She thanked him with a weak smile and went to the Alliance Legal Building.

A pink-cheeked receptionist who looked hardly old enough to be out of high school greeted her with a smile. Jewel said, “Is Benson Spencer in? I’m Jewel Washington.”

“You bet, Ms. Washington, he’s expecting you.” The receptionist touched a button on her phone and said, “Ms. Washington is here.”

Jewel checked her image in a mirror on the wall and saw that at least she looked businesslike in her gray suit. She hid her grief behind the blank expression she’d cultivated for whenever she didn’t want her feelings to show.

She’d stood in her depression for maybe fifteen seconds before a short, round, bald man dressed in jeans, loafers, and a red polo shirt bounded down the stairs next to the reception desk. He hurtled at her and skidded to a stop just short of a collision.

Radiating energy like heat from a stove, he grabbed her hand and shook it. “Welcome, welcome, Miss Washington, Jewel,” he said, smiling. He held up her résumé. “Noah told me all about you, this looks great, as far as I’m concerned you’re hired, come on up, we’ve got a lot to do, come-come-come!”

He jogged up the stairs. His energy had weakened her depression, and her interest kindled as she double-timed after him.

Upstairs, individual offices took up the outside walls and an open central area held a secretary’s station, a lounge with cushy chairs and couches, and a law library. The chubby, sixtyish secretary, looking comfy in shorts and an orange-thread T-shirt, sat at her desk, fingers attacking a keyboard. A youngish man in jeans and a knit shirt with the tail out searched through thick volumes spread over a table. He glanced up, gave Jewel a quick nod, and went back to his work. This was like no law office she’d ever seen.

Benson waved a hand at the woman as he zoomed past. “This’s Marge, she knows everything, you need something, don’t ask me, I’d just have to ask her.” Marge raised a hand and a smile to Jewel. As they passed the young man at the table, Benson said, “Mike Potts, associate advocate.”

Benson slid to a halt beside an office and gestured her into it. Jewel stepped past him into her new world.

It was utilitarian but comfortable: an oak computer station, the computer already turned on; a work table; two forest-green side chairs; a stocked bookcase.

Benson followed her in. “So you were a legal secretary in Chicago.”

“Yessir.”

“Noah said working on paralegal?”

“Yessir.”

“Excellent. We can help you with that. Here your title is associate advocate. This is your office, mine’s next door.”

He picked up a manila folder and a paperback book from her desk. “Come see me in twenty minutes and we’ll get into salary and that stuff, but first I want you to do some prep for a hot case.” He eyed her. “I expect you’ll have questions, and we can do all that at the same time.”

He handed her the file folder. It was labeled “Henry Soldado.” “You’re going to assist me on this.” He offered the book:
Justice Through Truth and Advocacy
. “Most of what you need to know about how we work is in here. It’s a lot different from the adversarial system you’re accustomed to. Sort of a kinder, gentler justice.”

Surprised, she said, “Soldado’s actually in trouble?”

“Most certainly.”

Jewel couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. “How? I mean, the TV says he’s a big hero. Says he saved Noah’s life for the second time.”

“How he did it is the problem.”

“What’s that mean?”

“He killed a man and used a lethal firearm. Both of those things are against the law.”

Yeah, sure, the “law” is gonna do right, gonna get the he-ro. “What do I have to do?”

“Assist me in being his advocate, do research, get his story.”

“I can’t.” She held the folder out to him. “I don’t think Earl did what they say. I think this man’s a murderer.”

“Emerson a friend of yours?”

“He . . . was.”

Benson’s gaze softened. “I’m sorry about what happened to your friend, but Noah requested that you be assigned to this case, and we take Noah’s requests seriously.”

“You mind if I ask Mr. Stone about this?”

He smiled. “Heck no, you want to tackle the gorilla in his tree, go ahead.” He hurtled out the door and around the corner into his office, calling, “Marge! Marge! I need you!”

When Jewel stepped from her office, she was almost run down by Marge.

In Noah’s office, an attack of nerves hit Jewel while she waited for him to end a phone call. It didn’t help that his arm was in a sling from being accidentally shot by Earl. She sure needed the job—but how could she possibly make herself defend that monster?

Noah hung up and eyed the folder she gripped. His stern expression didn’t make her feel any better. He said, “That was Benson. So we’ve got a problem?”

She took a shaky breath to start her protest; he raised a hand to silence her. “I won’t force you to take that case, but I want you to.” He smiled away his somber expression. “By the way, good morning, and welcome to our team.”

The smile relaxed her. “Thanks. But I don’t see how I can do a good job, the way I feel.”

“I understand you had a relationship with the young man, and I’m sorry for you and for him. But we have to go beyond feelings at times. Even if you don’t join the Alliance, everyone who works here has to abide by our principles—especially legal advocates.”

He held out a hand for the folder and opened it on his desk. Skimming through its pages, he said, “If there was ever a man who needed empathy, it’s Hank Soldado.” He lifted his gaze to her. “He did help you in Chicago, didn’t he?”

“Yes. But it wasn’t really me he was saving; he was just stopping a crime. Coulda been anybody.”

“That’s just it. It could have been anybody. I think Mr. Soldado is a highly principled man. Important things could come from him.” He held the folder out to her. “It would help me if you took this. And it might help you, too.”

How could she say no? This man was one of the good guys. All she’d had to do was show up and he had given her a job. But—

Noah said, “You want to see justice done, don’t you?”

“Sure.” But she wasn’t going to hold her breath, not after what she’d heard on the news.

Noah studied her. “What is it?”

“Nothin’.”

He gazed into her eyes as if he could read her thoughts. “If you can’t be honest with me, Jewel, this isn’t going to work out.”

A little embarrassed by being such a coward, she said, “Yessir. After everything I’ve seen on the news about him being a hero . . . It’s just that I haven’t seen much justice in this world, especially not from the law.”

He again offered her the folder. “You will here.”

If that was true, she did want to see Soldado get what he deserved. “But I have to help him?”

“No, what you have to do is help discover the truth.”

“Whatever it is? I mean, they say this guy saved your life.”