Courthouse Steps

“I’m going to make a couple of calls,” she said. “If anyone needs me, ask them to wait.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Amanda shook her head as she entered her sanctuary. For Tessie to call her “boss” was something of a joke. They both knew who was boss in the outer office, and it certainly wasn’t Amanda. Tessie must think her in extreme need of a pick-me-up...which she was. Because joke all she wanted, she was truly terrified.

She had tried to tell everyone from the start that her grandfather should hire a lawyer more experienced with trial procedure, an expert in criminal defense. But no one had listened. They all told her she would do a great job. No one understood that criminal defense was an art form, just as was criminal prosecution. An ordinary, run-of-the-mill lawyer couldn’t just walk in off the street, prepare a case of this magnitude and expect to win. She certainly couldn’t. And if her grandfather ended up spending the rest of his life in jail because of her inability...

Amanda reached for her telephone index and punched in a number with the Lake Geneva area code. Ten minutes later, she had gained an appointment with the professor. After that, she punched in the number of the Ingalls mansion. Clara Myers, her grandfather’s longtime housekeeper, answered the phone.

“Clara, hello, this is Amanda. I’m not going to be home for dinner this evening. Actually, I just had lunch.... Yes, I know how late it is. Would you please tell my mother that I’ll speak to her when I get in, and tell Granddad...tell Granddad I might have some interesting news for him. No—” she quickly changed her mind “—don’t say that last part. Just tell him I love him, and that I’ll talk to him later, too.”

She stared at the phone once she’d hung up. Then her gaze drifted to her rows of law books, which looked almost as pristine now as they had when she first received them, a gift from her mother and grandfather upon graduation from law school five years before.

Law, the body of rules that kept the fabric of society from coming apart... She had fallen in love with it when she was fifteen and one of her high school classes had gone on a field trip to the courthouse in Sugar Creek. She had watched the lawyers maneuver back and forth, watched as the defense team tried to use the cold and impersonal rules to the advantage of their client, watched as the state’s representative held fast to the ideal of those rules. And from that day she had forgotten her earlier plan to become a veterinarian. She had haunted the library in Tyler, reading every book she could get her hands on that gave a view of the legal process.

She liked to think that, since becoming a lawyer herself, she had helped people. She hadn’t won every case these past five years, but she had certainly attempted to. Most of her work involved technical expertise: what paper to file and where. Few cases actually went all the way to a trial. She tried very hard to mediate between people, to help them settle their differences before they resorted to further legal action.

Amanda sighed, her pretty face, normally so ready with the high-voltage Baron smile, unusually serious. The law was cold and impersonal, which meant that emotion held no place in judicial decisions. Just because a jury didn’t like the way a defendant looked or behaved didn’t mean they could take out their disapproval on that person by finding him guilty. Their decision had to be based solely on the evidence presented.

But in this instance, it was her grandfather she would soon be defending, and she wanted him to have every advantage that the system could offer—every bit of warmth she could stir in the jurors’ hearts.

Her gaze moved to the newspaper clipping she had pinned to the wall earlier in the week—a picture of Ethan Trask. On it she had drawn the concentric circles of a target, with the bull’s eye the tip of his nose. At that moment, the tip had a dart sticking out of it. Not that she had made such a superb hit, though she’d tried for a quarter of an hour. She had ended up by marching over to slam the dart in at point-blank range.

Ethan Trask. The man she had seen so confidently issuing orders in the courthouse such a short time ago. The attorney general’s “Avenging Angel.”

“Oh, Granddad,” Amanda groaned softly, beneath her breath, “if only it were anyone else!”

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_2eb3b9a9-0dfd-5c06-8c30-61d6c03ee296)

THE COTTAGE beside the wide lake nestled comfortably in the trees. Its look was ageless. It might have stood there for two years or two hundred. Amanda waited at the front door for Professor Williams to answer her knock. She shifted restlessly from foot to foot.

When at last the door swung open, a slightly older version of her favorite and most valued instructor greeted her. Like the man who had been with Ethan Trask, he, too, was her par in height. Only instead of being slender, Professor Williams was more than adequately insulated against any sudden disruption in the world’s food supply. His cheeks were round, his midsection rotund, and he had just enough unruly white hair left on top of his head to remind Amanda of an elf. His eyes contradicted the image. Instead of being benign and merry, they were probing and sharp. After his first sweeping glance, Amanda knew the Professor had guessed the reason for her visit.

“You’re wasting your time,” he said. Still, he motioned her indoors. “The only sport I’m interested in right now is fishing—bass, walleye, bluegill.”

The interior of the cabin was just as comfortable as the exterior. Neatly kept, with an overstuffed couch and chairs, it was perfect for a retired bachelor.

Amanda decided not to equivocate. “You’re the only person I can ask, Professor.”

“Why’s that?” he shot back. “Are you trying to tell me I’m the only person with a half a brain left in this state?”

“No.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t believe you.” His eyes narrowed. “You always did tell the truth, even when it wasn’t in your best interests.”

“Isn’t truth what the law is all about?” Amanda countered. “I seem to remember you had a special lecture you liked to give—”

“I did,” he interrupted her. “But I gave it so many times I don’t care to hear it again.” Finally he smiled. “It’s good to see you, Amanda Baron. Even under these trying circumstances. You’re a feast for the eye as well as the spirit.”

Amanda inclined her head, managing a small smile.

The professor looked her over more carefully. “I’ve kept up with what’s been happening via the newspapers. I read about your grandfather’s arrest and his indictment. Events of that sort are good fodder, especially when they happen in a nearby town. How is your family holding up?”

“Not very well, I’m afraid. They’re all trying to act as if everything will turn out all right, but they’re scared silly that it won’t.”

“And you?”

“Me most of all.”

The professor showed her to the couch and invited her to sit down while he went to make coffee. Soon he was back with two large mugs. “Do you take cream or sugar?” he asked.

“No, I like it straight.” She accepted a cup and took a small sip of the steaming liquid. It did little to warm her.

Professor Williams sat back, his cup untouched. “So, what is it you’re afraid of?” he asked.

“What am I not afraid of is a better question! I don’t know what I’m doing, Professor! I’ve never handled a criminal case before...at least, nothing more serious than some crazy local kid assaulting someone, or somebody else robbing a store. This is murder we’re talking about here! Life imprisonment. And my grandfather is the person charged! Everyone believes I can handle it—my mother, my brother, my sister...my grandfather. They all think that just because I have a law degree, I should be able to waltz into court and get Granddad off. I’ve tried to explain that it’s not that easy, but they won’t listen.” She set down her cup, afraid to hold it any longer in case it spilled.

“I believe you can do it,” the professor said quietly. “You have a very quick mind, Amanda.”

“But if I lose, if I do something wrong...if I overlook something, if I pick the wrong jurors...Ethan Trask will—”

“You have a very tough adversary.”

“The battle won’t be fair!”

“Which is why you came to me.”

Amanda sat forward, her chestnut hair lightly brushing her shoulders. “I thought possibly if you would be my cocounsel...”

He was already shaking his head. “It’s been three years since I left teaching and ten since I set foot in a courtroom. When I retired, I took leave of all that.”

“It’s not something a person forgets,” she maintained. “Not someone as capable as you. I’ve read your memoirs. I’ve read all the cases.”

“I didn’t say I’ve forgotten anything,” he corrected her sharply. “I said I took leave of that life. I swore to myself that I would never again come before the bench in any capacity as a lawyer, and I meant it. I saw too many doddering old men in my day, men who barely knew how to tie their shoelaces any longer, still trying to plead a case...and some of those men were behind the bench, too! No, I’m much too old and much too tired to inflict myself on the judicial system.”

Amanda immediately remembered the rumors of his ill health. “I heard that you weren’t feeling well. But you look so...healthy.” His color was good, his eyes bright.

He laughed shortly. “That’s something I put around to keep from being bothered. Too many people read that damned book last year and wanted advice. They came at all hours of the day and night.”

Amanda looked down. That was exactly what she was doing.

“I didn’t mean you,” he said, correctly interpreting her sudden stillness. “I’m talking about strangers, people I don’t even know.”

Amanda’s features were tight. She should never have come here. Professor Williams was a wonderful teacher, but they had never become personal friends. Too many years and too much experience separated them. Only desperation had brought her to this point. She stood. “I’m sorry to have taken up so much of your time. You warned me in the beginning. I should have listened.” She smiled, and the sweetness of her smile had no artifice. “I’m glad that you’re not ill,” she added.

She turned to leave, but a hand stopped her. Professor Williams’s expression was whimsical. “You have something very special, Amanda. A quality many other lawyers only try to achieve. Sincerity just shines out of you, my dear. Stick with that, and you won’t have a thing to worry about.”

The compliment was nice and Amanda appreciated it, but she knew that sincerity alone wasn’t going to win her grandfather’s case. Only hard work would do that. Hard work and, as the situation now stood, a great deal of luck. “Thank you,” she said.