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to have a firm ID and cause of death.  Her license was in her pocket,

and we used dental records to confirm it.  ME called the strangulation

based on damage to the small bones in her neck."  O'Donnell looked at

his watch.  "Hey, I hope this has been helpful, but I really gotta

run."

"Shit, I was hoping you could tell me more about that confession.  You

around tomorrow?"

"Nope."

Asshole didn't even pretend to explain.  The big boys around here take

off on dry days for golf, and the DA pretends he doesn't know about it.

I guess I'd gotten the maximum amount of help a person can get out of

Tim O'Donnell in a day.  Actually, this might be it for the month.

"Alright, I can probably get the rest from Forbes.  Thanks for the

help."

As I was walking out of his office, I heard O'Donnell mutter behind me,

"Hey, you should thank me for not finishing the rest of the story.  Now

you've got an excuse to be alone with Chuck Forbes after hours."

I spun around and glared at him.  "What the hell is that supposed to

mean?"

"Hey, fire down, Kincaid.  I thought you had a better sense of humor.

The staff up here goes nuts over the guy every time he's in here.  I

was just having some fun with you thought it wouldn't hurt you to spend

some time with the guy."

I decided he was telling the truth.  He didn't know anything.  "That's

something I don't joke around about.  I don't date people at work,

especially cops."

"Alas, Kincaid.  It's our loss."

As I started to walk out of his office, I stepped back and asked, "Oh,

by the way, do they have anything yet on that letter?  It would help

shut Lopez down if I could show that we got the right bad guys in the

Zimmerman case."

Looking down at his desk, he studied an open magazine.  "Letter's still

at the crime lab.  If we find out who sent it, I'll let you know."

I imagined myself saying, At the lab, my ass.  I hear the lab got

diddly.  Instead, I nodded.  "I'd appreciate it."

"Now get back to your trial," he said.  "Let me know how it turns out.

Bad enough that you took it to begin with.  You better not crash and

burn."

I tried not to let his gloating piss me off, since he did stay past his

normal five o'clock punch-out to help me.  But his help was something

of a mixed blessing.  Now if my case went down in flames, he could say

he filled me in on what I needed to know about the Zimmerman case and

had warned me from the start.  No pressure.

Eleven.

Lisa was giving a statement to Dan Manning outside the courthouse when

I walked out of the building.  I wished I'd gotten to him first.  No

doubt he was already envisioning this case as his first Pulitzer, or at

least a true-crime paperback and a made-for-TV Sunday-night movie.

While Lisa spun a story involving sex, double crosses, and justice

delayed, I was left to make a lame and predictable statement that the

defense was reaching for tall tales out of desperation and that I

trusted the jury to weigh the evidence impartially and ascertain the

truth.  Not exactly headline material.

Grace met me at the door of her loft apartment in the Pearl District

with a big hug and an even bigger glass of cabernet.  I had called

ahead from the office, so she knew I was in a bad way.

When she was quiet after I finished relating the events of the past few

days, I looked at her with exaggerated disappointment.  "Grace, as my

lifelong best friend, you are under a standing obligation to feed my

outrage.  Right now, for example, you should be stringing together a

litany of insulting names for my archenemy, Lisa Lopez."  Nothing.

"Here, I'll get you started: Snake.  Slime.  Skunk.  Skank.  I'm only

on 5. You want to start with the t's?"  Still nothing.  "Grace?"

She woke up from her daze and looked me in the eye.  "Before I say

anything about your case, I just want to clarify something.  You're

back with Chuck?"

I rolled my eyes and did my best to voice exasperation.  I sounded like

Kendra.  "You don't have to say it in that tone, Grace."

"Well, Sam, it's pretty much the tone you seem to reserve for him."

"And that's usually after a couple of martinis when I'm angry at him

for breaking my heart.  This time feels different, Grace.  We've both

grown up a little, and he's doing more than just trying to flirt his

way into bed with me.  He's really opened up to me about this trial and

the Zimmerman case, and he's great with Kendra "

She interrupted me.  "What?  You think because he brings CDs and Happy

Meals to your witness that you're going to have little babies together

and live happily ever after?  Jesus, Sam, Chuck's a nice guy, but look

at the twits he goes for.  Not to mention the fact that he makes your

life chaotic, and you hate chaos."

"Maybe some chaos would be good for me."

That made her laugh.  "You're kidding, right?"

When I didn't smile at that, she rubbed my forearm, which was resting

on the table.  "Oh, Sam, I'm sorry.  You do what's right for you, and

I'll support whatever that is.  Just be careful.  I'm worried about

you."

"Yeah, me too, but I want to do this."  I changed the subject.  "So,

can we move on to the trashing of my nemesis now?

She smiled, but I could tell she was feeling serious.  "It just seems

strange," she said.

"There's nothing strange about it, Grace.  Lisa Lopez is completely

scummy slime and has absolutely no ethics.  She'll do anything to win,

even for a dirtbag like Derringer."

"But you said yourself that she sat there passively through your entire

case."

I tried not to reveal my impatience.  "Right," I said slowly, "but now

it turns out she was doing that so she could hide her ridiculous theory

until the last minute, when I'd be caught off guard."

"But, Sam, look at the big picture.  When did she think of this?  The

anonymous letter to the Oregonian wasn't printed until the middle of

your case.  If she got the idea from the letter, what was her plan

before then?  It seems too coincidental that she just happened to be

putting on a lame defense and then decided in the middle of the trial

to capitalize on this anonymous letter thing."

I could see where she was headed.  "Right," I said.  "I've thought

about that too.  It explains why she seemed up to no good ever since

the start of the triaclass="underline" she was planning to tie the case to the

Zimmerman murder all along, and the anonymous letter happened to come

up right before her opening."

"Which is also a major coincidence," she said.

"It's really not, Grace.  Think about it: the Supreme Court announced