bunch of bloodthirsty rednecks. As for the bureau's delay homing in on
Jackson, your client wasn't exactly forthcoming. The cops had to get
their information from the workers on the site, and funny they seemed
to be under the impression that it was union work."
Talking about the Glenville development project brought Mrs. Jackson's
words back to me.
"Who is your client anyway, Roger?" I asked.
"I told you," he said. "Dr. Easterbrook came to us through OHSU."
He knew exactly what I was talking about. "Who's in charge of the
construction in Glenville?"
"I wasn't aware that the DA's office had taken over the operations of
the National Labor Relations Board. For what it's worth, the nonunion
work on the site was permissible."
"So tell me who the client is. I want to know how they came to hire
Melvin Jackson. From what I've heard of him, I'm not sure I'd want him
to mow my backyard, let alone hire him on a major development
project."
But Roger was done talking to me. He stood up and offered Duncan his
hand. "Duncan, unless you have any more questions, we'll be on our
way. Please let me know your decision once you've made it."
Then I got a glimpse of how Duncan Griffith had earned his political
reputation. When he took Roger's hand, I could tell his grip was firm.
"The decision was made before you interrupted me with the theatrics,
son. We'll be asking for life without parole. You might want to
consider knocking the last twelve minutes off Dr. Easterbrook's bill.
Now, if it's all right with you, I'll walk you out so I can thank your
client for coming in."
We were still rehashing the events of the meeting when Duncan returned.
"Anyone got a problem with that?"
No problems. "Very good then," he said, knocking on the table as he
walked out. "Oh, and by the way, Samantha, your ex-husband's a major
asshole."
I don't think Duncan realized he was dropping a bombshell. I
hightailed it out of the room while my coworkers were still begging for
the tawdry details of my short-lived marriage.
A few minutes later, Russ came into my office.
"I hope you didn't mind me sticking up for you back there. I know you
had everything under control, but, Jesus, what a prick."
"And they say chivalry is dead," I said.
"Yeah, well don't let the word out. I've got a reputation to
protect."
"Don't worry. One act of semi decency won't make a dent," I said,
smiling. "So I was surprised Duncan made a decision. You think it was
because of the racial politics or to appease the husband?"
"Christ, Kincaid, you're almost as bad as your limousine-liberal ex.
Duncan might have done it because he thought it was the right thing to
do."
I suppose with politicians it's the decisions that count, not their
reasons for making them.
"So how long were you guys married?" Russ asked.
I felt like I owed him at least the party line. "Not long. Things
were all right for a few years in New York, but they fell apart when we
moved to Portland." Then I surprised myself by not stopping in the
usual place. "We seemed to have a disagreement over the appropriate
use of his penis."
Russ almost spit out the coffee he had just sipped.
"Sorry," I said sheepishly. "A little too much information?"
"No, just a well, it was a funny way of putting it. You're not one of
those girls, are you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, but I know I haven't been any
kind oigirl since I was seventeen years old."
"Excuse me, Gloria Steinem. You're not one of those crazy women who
always goes after the bad boy, are you? First it's that guy, now it's
Forbes. You know something none of the other women around here know,
or do you just like to flirt with disaster?"
"I've known Chuck Forbes since I was fifteen years old, and he's
nothing like Roger Kirkpatrick."
The silence was not just uncomfortable. It made me wonder what
everyone in the office must be thinking. And saying.
"Sorry," he said, "it's none of my business. You ready for the prelim
tomorrow?"
I was grateful for the change of subject. "Piece of cake," I said.
"Was it just me, or did Roger seem reluctant to give us anything about
the owner of the Glenville property?"
Russ shrugged his shoulders. "He's probably no different from the rest
of those private-firm fucks. Acts like the big man, but when push
comes to shove he's scared shitless of his clients. You don't need it,
but if you're really curious, call one of the paralegals in the
child-support enforcement unit. They're pros at running down
property-owner records."
Maybe I would.
"If I don't see you, good luck tomorrow," he said. "Do you know who
the judge is yet?"
"Prescott."
"Got news for you, Kincaid. You could be looking at a long day."
Kate Prescott is the slowest judge in the courthouse. A big
fund-raiser for the Democratic Party, she came to the bench a year ago
from a large corporate firm. She tries to make up for her lack of
litigation experience by being thorough. I had a plea fall apart once
in her courtroom when a transexual prostitute who'd been through the
system a hundred times finally gave up on the process. In her words,
"Honey, if I knew it was gonna take this long, I'd have asked for my
trial. If I'm losing time on the street, it might as well be
interesting."
If Prescott didn't move things along, Jackson's prelim could be
painful.
"Page me if you need anything," Russ offered. "And, Kincaid, for what
it's worth, any guy who'd even think of stepping out on you is clearly
out of his mind."
Now that might ruin Russell Frist's tough-guy reputation.
Roger's show was not the only power play I'd have to contend with that
day. As I was getting ready to leave, Duncan called. Before he got to
the point, he had to dress me down for my outburst in the meeting.
"Don't get me wrong," he said, "it wasn't what you said that was the
problem. He deserved every word of it. But when I'm in the room,
you've got to trust that I'll handle it."
"Does this mean I'm fired?"
"I'll give you a Get Out of Jail Free card for that particular
outburst. Your reward for being married to the jerk. But, seriously,
over time I hope you'll stop trying to carry the load all on your
own."
"I'm independent, sir."
"Tell me about it. So don't freak out that I'm calling to give you a
heads-up. T. J. Caffrey just called. He's rabid. Seems your defense