the judge present, and the right to bid on everything. Doug’s wife

  wants the Healy for sentimental reasons.”

  Bullock rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced like he had a

  crick—maybe he was just worn out. “okay, Jack. Here’s the deal: no

  deal on Doug criminally, period. We won’t let you talk to him before

  the appellate court rules, and we’re going to fight you tooth and nail

  on the criminal side. We’ll bring charges if we don’t get to keep him

  under wraps as a terrorist. You have to understand, there’s no deal

  concerning Dr. Stewart.”

  “You’ve made that point very clear.”

  “Why so fast? And why do you want Houston present?” He asked,

  showing a spark of renewed interest.

  “liz is disgusted by this whole mess, just wants it to be over. Right

  now we can prove liz made the down payment on the house and the

  monthly payments out of her trust fund. It’s the same for almost all

  of the furniture and artwork. I’m sure you knew that or you wouldn’t

  have offered us the deal.”

  Bullock nodded.

  “She has no idea what her husband was up to, but she doesn’t

  trust Dub to keep his word, and neither do I. I know it sounds like

  she’s living in lala land, but she still wants to host her neighborhood’s

  cocktail party, and she wants her house back sooner rather than later.

  look, she’s more than a little weird, okay?” I hoped my nose wasn’t

  growing.

  “Why don’t I just give her the Healy? Then there’s no rush, and we

  don’t need Judge Houston,” he responded.

  I couldn’t let that happen. I needed them to hold the auction

  quickly before anyone could think through what I was up to. “I’d be

  inclined to do that, except you’d get back to the office and realize

  the deal isn’t consistent with all Doug’s assets going to auction, and

  you’d want to renegotiate. The Healy belongs to Doug. It’s titled in his

  name. The cars, the lab equipment, and the research are all Doug’s.

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  If some other lawyer later on down the line wants to attack the sale or

  the prosecution, he’ll point to the Healy and argue that you let Doug

  keep it, so he should be allowed to keep the rest.”

  I was on shaky ground regarding forfeiture law, but I hoped to

  plant the seed that if they didn’t go along with my plan, there could

  be legal title questions to everything sold at the auction. I felt sure

  they wouldn’t want any issues concerning the legality of the auction

  to bite them further down the road.

  “Your reasoning doesn’t hold water, but she’s your client. I can go

  along with the early auction and your right to bid, but the judge’s

  presence? What if he won’t do it?”

  “If Judge Houston refuses to engage, liz won’t agree. I tried to

  reason with her, but she’s adamant. Honestly, I don’t get it, but liz is

  a woman who knows her own mind. For her, the judge validates the

  whole proceeding.”

  I relied on an old stand-by. When you don’t have a good explana-

  tion for something—blame your client.

  “I’ll try to get Dub to see reason.” A man with a loco boss—I felt a

  twinge of pity for him.

  It didn’t take him long to find Dub, who was still whispering with

  the suited man. I sat down at our table and took Maggie’s hand, trying

  to absorb some sense of calm. I was taking the gamble of my profes-

  sional life.

  Maggie whispered. “Whatever you’re up to, I hope it works.”

  “Me too or we’re in for a really hard landing.”

  She squeezed my hand in return, and I whispered, “Slip out for

  just a minute—see if you can get Clovis to photograph the man Dub’s

  been talking to. He can’t take photographs in the courtroom, but

  maybe he can get him as he’s leaving.”

  “If he’s not around, I’ll use my iPhone.” She murmured something

  about the ladies room and quietly excused herself.

  Judge Houston returned, sat down, and said firmly, “Mr. Blanchard.”

  At a signal from Dub, Bullock rose slowly to address the court.

  “Your Honor, we’ve consulted with defense counsel and would ask

  the court’s indulgence. With regard to the forfeiture proceedings, the

  parties have reached an oral agreement that certain assets seized by

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  w e b b h u b b e l l

  the government will be returned to Mrs. Stewart. Certain assets seized

  by the government belonging to the defendant will be sold at auc-

  tion with the consent of his counsel. This action will completely settle

  the civil complaint against the property seized. In no respect will this

  agreement alter our appeal of the Court’s order or any further pro-

  ceedings concerning the defendant.”

  The judge responded, “Then you don’t need me.”

  He was about to strike his gavel when Bullock continued. “I’m

  sorry, your Honor. There are a couple of wrinkles.”

  Judge Houston loosed a long sigh and looked pointedly at me.

  “The first wrinkle is that the defense has asked us to hold the auc-

  tion in two weeks in this courtroom.” Bullock waited. Houston pursed

  his lips.

  “I see no problem with an accelerated schedule as long as Marshal

  Maroney agrees, and you are comfortable that proper notice can be

  sent out.”

  “We’ll expedite notice and get all parties to waive any time require-

  ments. The second wrinkle is that Mr. Patterson requests your pres-

  ence at the auction.”

  This time Houston did not smile. “You want me to be an auctioneer?”

  He barked.

  I rose; it was up to me to convince the judge we needed him.

  “Your Honor, I think you remember our first day in court. My client

  couldn’t be here, but his wife was present.”

  His face relaxed into a smile. “Yes, I remember Mrs. Stewart very

  well.”

  “Well, Mrs. Stewart was pretty freaked out, if you don’t mind the

  phrase. Someone unknown to her used an axe to crash through her

  front door, haul her furnishings away, pile her clothes in the middle of

  the floor, and seal her home with yellow tape. Not only was she fright-

  ened, she felt violated.” I paused letting the image sink in.

  “I’ve explained to her the law of civil forfeiture: that even if her

  husband isn’t charged, his assets can be seized and sold, but she’s

  not convinced that action is constitutional. She was impressed with

  the Court’s demeanor and fairness that first day in court. She has

  agreed to the settlement and the auction if, and only if, you agree to

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  be present. She’s not comfortable with the prosecution, and who can

  blame her? Dr. Stewart is God knows where, and she’s all alone.”

  Maggie had slipped quietly back into the room. The judge looked

  at me for some time without comment. Finally he smiled. “Well, I can’t

  see any harm in attending. It might be beneficial for me to watch one

  of these auctions first hand.”

  I said, “Thank you, your Honor. I know Ms. Stewart will appreciate

  your forbearance and courtesy.”

  Maggie whispered, “You ought to be ashamed.”

  The judge banged his gavel. “Assuming an agreement is reached

  in writing and approved by the Court on Monday, on a week from

  Wednesday at ten in the morning Marshal Maroney will hold an auc-

  tion in this courtroom. Don’t disappoint me, gentlemen. I expect

  everything to be signed, sealed, and in proper order.” He rose abruptly

  and left. Bullock stopped by our table to say we could expect a draft

  agreement this afternoon.

  The party was over and soon only Maggie and I remained in the

  courtroom.

  “I take it, Jack, that you’re way out on a limb. Do you have a safety

  net?”

  “Not really. If truth be known, I’m further out on that limb than

  you know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve agreed to settle a civil case, believing I can outsmart an opposi-

  tion that’s been ahead of me the whole time. liz and Doug trust me. I

  hope I can pull it off. I can’t see another choice. I can’t see any other

  way to save Doug and his research.”

  Maggie smiled and gave in. “okay, what’s first?”

  “We pay a visit to Micki. eric may kill me—though he may have to

  wait in line—but I have to talk to her. I need her help.”

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  D

  eric stood outside Micki’s door, clearly ready to defend it against

  all comers.

  “Jack, please don’t bother Micki. I know you mean well, but . . ."

  “I promise I won’t be long, and if I know Micki, she’s been pes-

  tering you to get out of here so she can get back to work. All I’m going

  to do is tell her what’s going on, reassure her that we’re doing all we

  can, and encourage her to stay away.”

  eric didn’t believe a word, but knew he couldn’t really keep me

  away from my partner and friend without both of us going ballistic.

  He sighed and moved away reluctantly. “okay, but don’t take too

  long.”

  “Promise.” I went through the door, closing it firmly behind me.

  Micki was watching an old movie. Her eyes looked hollow inside

  dark circles. Her skin was no longer grey, but still pale and she was

  incredibly thin. The blue and black from the bruising was now pooling

  in her legs.

  “Hi, beautiful.” I gave her an unconcerned smile.

  Her voice was hoarse. “If you mean that, come give me a kiss.”

  I bent over the bed to kiss her cheek, but her hand went to my head

  and she gave me a quick soft kiss on the mouth. I lingered a bit, reas-

  sured by the taste of the Micki I knew.

  My eyes begged the question.

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked, but I miss you, and he’s got to loosen

  up, or it won’t work. He’s very sweet, but I don’t need a mother hen.” I

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  assumed she meant eric. “What I need is to get out of here.” Her voice

  was strong and firm.

  “When do they think you can leave?” I asked.

  “eric says in a few days, but I think he’s just stalling. When I do

  get home, he says no riding horses and no work. I know he means

  well, but jeez, I’ve got a life—why does he have to be so controlling?

  Speaking of—what’s happening? Bring me up to date. What’s going

  on with Doug and liz? I’m dying of boredom.”

  I pulled up the chair and filled her in. eric stuck his head in the

  door a couple of times, but left when Micki scowled. Didn’t he have

  his own patients?

  I tried to tell her about our meeting with Novak, but she was clearly

  troubled—too much water under that bridge. She had no footing in

  our current reality. So I told her about liz and her revelations and

  what had happened in court.

  She had closed her eyes—I couldn’t tell whether she was thinking

  or asleep, so unlike the Micki I knew. I rose to leave, but her hand

  pulled me back.

  Her eyes didn’t open, but her hand felt warm and strong. “When

  you get back from DC, you and Maggie stay at my place. Debbie too.

  That way Clovis can have us all in one place. What do you think?”

  “That’s part of why I’m here. I need your help, but not if it jeopar-

  dizes your health.”

  “I’m okay, I’m okay. I really am getting better, can’t you tell? Anyway,

  eric isn’t going to let me out of his sight, especially if he hears you’re

  spending the night.” She tried to giggle, but it came out as a cough.

  “You’re bad, you know that? If I can convince liz my plan is the way

  to go, we have less than two weeks to pull it off. I need your expertise

  on how this kind of auction works. I can’t afford to screw this up.”

  “My brain still works, as far as I know. You know, it could work unless

  they see it coming. How are you going to keep it quiet?”

  “Still working on that. I’m set to meet with Sam after I leave here,

  even before I see liz. If he isn’t willing to keep an open mind, I’ll have

  to go to Plan B, and so far I don’t have one.”

  “Tell Debbie to come see me. Tell her I’m not mad—I know she did

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  w e b b h u b b e l l

  the right thing. We’ll have everything set up at my house by the time

  you get back.”

  I stood up.

  “Micki, maybe this isn’t such a good idea. You’re already worn out,

  and we’re just talking.”

  She gave me a dirty look. “Don’t worry so much about me. I need to

  get out of here; I need to get off these meds. Talk to liz, do your thing

  in DC, and hurry back. We’ll be ready.”

  She closed her eyes again, and I knew it really was time to go. She

  fell asleep, and I lowered the back of the bed and left the room. eric

  was right there, fuming. Didn’t this guy ever take a break?

  “eric, you’re a very lucky man.” I smiled.

  He looked confused, and I didn’t give him a chance to regroup.

  Paul stood just a few steps away.

  “Paul, she says eric can take her home in a couple of days. She wants

  all of us to join her there when we return from DC. It will be easier to

  guard us if we’re all in one place, but we’ll make an enticing target.”

  He raised his eyebrows, nodded, and pushed the elevator button.

  Paul wasn’t much of a talker. I turned to eric, practically daring him to

  argue. He turned away with a sour look, and I walked into the elevator,

  relieved he had backed down.

  I glanced at my watch. I was supposed to meet Maggie and Sam for

  lunch at the Town Pump, a cheeseburger dive down by the river; it

  was Sam’s mom’s favorite, totally unknown except by long-time locals.

  Clovis had me there in no time at all. We all ordered cheeseburgers

  and fries—what else?—and got down to business.

  “Sam, I know if I get out of line, you’ll let me know in a hurry, right?”

  “You bet. I’ve sure done it before,” he grinned. “So, shoot.”

  “Here’s the long and short of it. Dub is going after Dr. Stewart

  because he can use the forfeiture process to get Doug’s research, and

  he’s getting paid to do it. No, I have no proof, no solid evidence. But

  I will, and I’m going to need your help.”

  “Good lord. Why in the hell can’t you accept that they’re going

  after this guy for the forest of Mary Jane growing in his back yard?

  Are you really suggesting our U.S. attorney is on the take? even for

  Dub that’s a reach. He’s an idiot, but dirty? Can you prove anything?

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  Besides, it’s out of my jurisdiction. If someone is actually paying him,

  it’s a federal matter.”

  “Sam, hear me out. It’s not just a federal matter if it also involves

  kidnapping and attempted murder.”

  “Are you saying Dub Blanchard was behind your kidnapping?” he

  asked incredulously.

  “I didn’t say that and, in fact, I don’t think he was.”

  “Well, what’s your point?” I had to admit my side of the conversa-

  tion didn’t make much sense so far.

  “Doug Stewart was growing the plants for a research project on the

  cancer-curing effects of marijuana and other plants. Not pain relief,

  but the ability to cure. The federal government has known about his

  research for years. At some point, someone got worried he was getting

  close to a breakthrough, how I don’t know, and Dub was paid to go

  after Doug. That same someone got even more worried when Micki

  and I agreed to represent Doug.”

  “Jack, you’ve been reading too many conspiracy blogs. You need

  help. Are you sure Moira didn’t mess with your mind?”

  I hoped he was kidding. I took a deep breath.

  “listen, Bullock made us an incredible deal, and Dub didn’t put up

  a whimper—he won’t prosecute liz, and has agreed to give her house

  back in exchange for our not fighting the civil forfeiture of Doug’s

  research.”

  “So take it!” he exclaimed. “That’s a great deal. Don’t look a gift

  horse in the mouth, my friend. Don’t look for conspiracies. Take

  the deal and celebrate. Do you have any proof that the government