He parked in front of her house and handed her his card. It just had his name and a cell phone number. “You can get hold of me anytime, night or day. I’ll pick you up Monday morning at eight.”
“Why?”
“To drive you to the cyber unit. Phillips is insisting that you work there.”
“But that’s crazy. All I need is my laptop.”
“You’re going to be testing CSA security. He wants you in his unit.”
“What does he think I’ll do at home? Invite people over to watch me?”
He didn’t argue the point. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Meaning, we’re through discussing this.”
“That’s right.”
He walked her to her door and patiently waited by her side while she dug through her purse, looking for her house key. She kept handing him things to hold while she searched, and by the time she finally found the key, he held her billfold, her sunglasses, a striped zipper bag, three pens, and a cell phone. She stuffed them all back in her purse.
“Thanks,” she said.
“How long do you think it will take?” he asked.
“No time at all. Once I insert the key and turn it, the door will open.” She saw his expression and began to laugh. He looked as though he wanted to shake her. “You don’t have a sense of humor, do you?”
“Sure, I do. Now answer the question. How long do you think it will take to get into the CSA?”
“I can work pretty fast,” she answered with a wry smile as she walked inside and closed the door.
Liam walked back to the car with the image of her smile still on his mind. Letting out a low whistle, he shook his head. “She’s gonna be trouble.”
NINE
Emerson was a charming little town with rolling hills, double-wide streets, and weathered clapboard houses that didn’t sit on top of one another. Allison’s aunt and uncle lived on Baltimore Street. The two-story house sat on a corner lot with a spectacular view of Summer Park. The huge red elm in the front yard was in desperate need of a good trim. One of the thick branches draped over part of the roof. A disaster waiting to happen, Allison thought as she pulled into the driveway.
The couple had moved into the house right after they were married thirty-some years ago and, except for some repairs now and then, hadn’t changed a thing in all that while. The hardwood floors were dull and worn, and the variegated gold shag carpet in the den was threadbare. The kitchen still had the same dark oak cabinets and Formica countertops, and the old linoleum tiles still made a checkerboard on the floor.
Allison could feel her stomach twisting into knots. After she took a couple of deep breaths, she got up the courage to open the car door.
Will must have spotted her from the window. He stepped out onto the porch and waved to her. Okay, he was in what he must consider his charming mood. Better than angry, she thought. Then she noticed he had a beer in his hand. It wasn’t even noon yet, and he was already drinking. She didn’t think he was drunk, though, because he wasn’t staggering around. Usually when he was drunk he was belligerent, and he didn’t appear to be scowling . . . at least not yet. Women found him attractive, but Allison couldn’t understand why. Those same women had certainly never seen him go into one of his fits. He wasn’t so handsome when he was sneering and screaming and throwing punches because he wasn’t getting his way.
Why was he at his parents’ house? Had he also been summoned? Or had he been kicked out of the apartment they had rented for him? She walked up the steps to face him. He looked haggard. His eyes were bloodshot, and there were dark circles under his eyes. If he kept up his twisted lifestyle, she expected him to be dead before he turned thirty-five. The thought saddened her. There was still time to turn his life around, if he was willing . . . and if he could get away from his smothering parents.
Up close she could see he’d been drinking for a while. He wasn’t tanked, but he was getting there. She wondered when he’d started or if this was just a continuation from partying the night before.
He wasn’t much for proper greetings. He took a drink of his beer, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and said, “My mother snaps her fingers and you come running.”
Allison wasn’t offended, and she wasn’t going to let him bait her into an argument. “No, Will. She calls and calls and calls until I give in and do what she wants.”
“She makes you feel guilty.” He laughed after stating the obvious.
“Yes, she does,” she admitted. “Why are you here?”
“I want a new lawyer.”
“Then get a new one.”
“My lazy-ass lawyer says it won’t matter how many lawyers I hire. None of them can get the charges reduced. You know what happened, don’t you?”
She shook her head. She knew what he was going to tell her, though. None of what happened was his fault.
“I really got screwed,” he said. “I’m the one who was attacked at the bar. I didn’t start the fight. I just protected myself. I mean, I should, right? I should be able to protect myself.”
He looked at her expectantly, waiting for sympathy. She wouldn’t give him any. “Were there witnesses?”
“Yes, but they aren’t on my side. If it goes to trial, they’ll lie under oath. Just you watch and see.”
While Allison didn’t know any of the particulars, she guessed this time Will wasn’t going to be able to find a way out. “Do you want it to go to trial?”
“My lawyer says it would be a mistake to take it to trial. He wants me to take the deal they’re offering.”
His face was turning red, and she could see the anger washing over him. She wasn’t sure if she should continue asking him questions for fear of adding fuel to the fire.
“Don’t you want to know what was offered?” he asked. Antagonistic now, he glared at her.
“Yes, I do.”
“Five to seven years, Allison. I’d get seven years, but with good behavior, I could get out as early as five years.”
Good behavior? Then it was going to be seven long years, she thought, because there was no way Will could keep his temper controlled that long. He didn’t know how.
“What happens if you decide to go to trial?”
“According to my useless lawyer, I could get twice as long. Now do you understand why I need a new lawyer? One of those high-priced big shots who knows how to manipulate the law. That’s what I need.”
“Do you think a new lawyer could keep you out of prison?”
“Yes, of course I do, if he knows what he’s doing. Don’t you agree?”
She nodded. She was determined to placate him, no matter what. Debating him would only incite his anger.
“Are you on my side or not?” he asked.
“I don’t want you to go to prison,” she said, giving him an evasive answer.
Allison wondered if he would ever face reality. She knew there had to be more to the story than he was telling. A bar fight didn’t usually bring such harsh charges, did it? Unless someone was seriously injured, or unless the prosecutor could prove that there was an established pattern of behavior. How many fights had Will started? Probably more than he could remember.
“I guess I’d better go inside and find out why I was summoned,” she said as she climbed the steps.
She already knew the reason her aunt had called her, of course. If Will wanted a new, more expensive lawyer, then, by God, he was getting one, which meant his parents needed help coming up with the money.
On the drive to Emerson, Allison had played out the impending scene with her aunt and uncle in her head. She had witnessed it so many times in the past she could practically recite the dialogue by heart. In the end, her aunt would play the gratitude card and expect her to cave. Something was different this time, though. Maybe it was seeing Will at the end of his rope. Maybe Allison had reached the end of hers. Regardless of the reason, she knew what she had to do.
Her hand on the doorknob, she paused, then turned back to Will. “This is the last time I’ll be coming back here.”
He acted as though he hadn’t heard her. “I’m scared,” he blurted. “This could be bad. I swear, if I get out of this, I’m going to change. I know I’ve said that before, but I mean it this time. I want to go back to college and finish. I can’t go to prison.” A look of panic crossed his face, and there was a pathetic whine in his voice when he said, “I just can’t. I wouldn’t last a week.”