When I got down to the property room, I handed the clothes to the custodian. She took them and sighed. “I need to check these?”
“Nope. Bailiff cleared everything. They’re good to go.” She turned to get a plastic bag to store them in. I held up a hand. “Don’t bother. He’ll be down here any minute. He’s going home.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Congratulations. I guess.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
I told Michelle and Alex about Ringer when I got back to the office.
Alex looked stunned. “Seriously? Why?”
Michelle’s mouth fell open. “No way. How could they walk that filthy worm?”
I shook my head. “I’d like to think I’m just that good-”
“Actually, you are. But still.” Michelle gave a sharp sigh. Her e-mail pinged. She went to her computer and held up a hand. “Listen to this. ‘Errol Messinger has given a statement saying that due to previous commitments, he will not be able to take Dale Pearson’s case.’” Michelle looked up. “You’d think Messinger would’ve known that before he met with Dale.”
I smiled. “Oh, he knew. He’s just saving face. Pearson turned him down.”
It might’ve been the thrill of the hunt. That same animal instinct that makes you grab for the last blouse on the bargain table even though it’s a hideous shade of puce, is missing a button, and you know deep down that you’ll never wear it.
Or maybe it was because I was feeling invincible after the win on Ringer’s case. I wasn’t sure. I just knew in that moment that I was going to go for it. “Do you guys have a number for Pearson?”
They cracked wide grins. Alex pumped a fist in the air. “All right!”
But when I went into my office and picked up the phone, I hesitated. I told myself to just do it. Just make the call. But I was still standing at my window, staring at the sliver of sky that peeked between the buildings when Michelle buzzed. Her voice was low. “This is so bizarre. Guess who just called? Dale Pearson. Line one.”
“I… uh…”
“Take the damn call, Samantha.”
I clicked over. Dale Pearson introduced himself and asked me if I knew about his case. I told him of course I did. He got right down to business.
“I’d like to discuss the possibility of you representing me.”
His voice was deep and smooth, like old single-malt scotch. And it had the authoritative timbre of someone who was used to giving orders. But it stopped just short of the macho, condescending tone some cops have. Then again, I reminded myself, he was on his best behavior.
