Don’t try to drag my Angie into your problems.”

  He remained calm, oddly the one in control. Had I fallen down a

  rabbit hole?

  “Jack, if you don’t want to get involved, I understand. Angie warned

  me I would probably be arrested. She said you’d be my only hope at

  that point. We both knew I was taking a terrible risk, and I went for-

  ward with my eyes wide open. Don’t feel guilty. I have no right to hold

  you to a promise made a long time ago that you don’t remember.”

  That stung–I struggled to remember. He continued.

  “I told them about my research before I planted the first seedling.

  But I understand why you don’t want to defend a ‘drug dealer.’ You

  have a reputation to keep.”

  That stung deeper.

  He smiled. “Thanks for coming, Jack. I appreciate it. liz will be

  glad to know how much you respect Micki. I’m disappointed, but I

  understand.” He looked down at his hands again, lost in thought, fin-

  ished with me.

  Suddenly that night became crystal clear. Angie had been adamant.

  over cocktails, she’d gotten me to agree to represent Doug if he got

  into any trouble. Wondering what kind of trouble this mild-mannered

  chemist could get into, I’d gone along, more to lighten the mood

  than anything else. I brought it up with Angie when we got home, but

  she’d turned prickly, said she needed a hot bath. I figured she’d cool

  off, but she never brought up the subject up again. That evening’s

  promise retreated in the face of cancer, the increasingly hopeless

  treatments, and the awful pain.

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  I felt like a jerk. I didn’t want to get caught up in a lost cause, but

  the least I could do was be polite. I took a deep breath.

  “Doug, I’m sorry. I’m overly sensitive when it comes to Angie. I

  do remember that night, but unfortunately Angie never gave me any

  details. To be honest, she got sick and I forgot about it. I still don’t

  think I’m the right lawyer for you, but I want to know what this is all

  about. Why don’t I just listen for a change?”

  Doug smiled wryly.

  “Angie talked about you all the time. She’d say, ‘every now and

  then, Jack gets ahead of himself, talking before he thinks. When that

  happens, I’ve learned to keep quiet. It only takes a minute. Pretty

  soon he’ll stop and think. You’ll see.’ Watching you shift gears, I can

  almost hear her.”

  I had to clear my throat before I could reply, “I’m all ears, Pro-

  fessor. Why don’t you tell me what’s really at stake, and then we’ll

  figure out if I can help.”

  At that very moment, the deputy stepped in.

  “I’m sorry, counsel, but it’s past four o’clock, and I have to get the

  prisoner back to the County Jail before dinner. The marshal says you

  can see him again tomorrow at one o’clock.”

  The deputy’s offer was more than reasonable. I couldn’t complain,

  especially after he agreed to let Micki come as well. As he brought out

  the handcuffs and shackles, I turned to Doug.

  “I promise to do the listening tomorrow, but is there anything you

  want me to tell liz?”

  “liz doesn’t know much about this. Just tell her I love her, I’m

  okay, and things will get better now that you’re here. I’ll tell you every-

  thing tomorrow, but here’s your takeaway for today: it’s not about the

  marijuana.”

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  As Clovis and I walked the empty halls of the courthouse, I won-

  dered what Doug meant by—“it’s not about the marijuana.” What in

  the hell else could it be about? I also thought about Doug. Just now

  he had seemed very solid, undaunted by the circumstances, certainly

  not the image of a drug dealer, yet his backyard was full of marijuana.

  Maybe Doug had been tending his garden a little too often. Dub

  had already convinced the press he was a major drug dealer and ter-

  rorist. Micki would really be up against it if Doug was delusional.

  The deputy was now blocking the back door so we couldn’t sneak

  out that way. When we reached the front entrance, I saw a bank of

  microphones already in place on the steps. I hesitated at the door.

  “Well, we can either try to hustle our way through or I can walk up

  and answer their questions. Where’s the car?”

  Clovis shrugged. “Still out back. Your call, but they need a story. If

  you don’t give them one, Dub will.”

  “Aw, hell—they already know I’m here, I might as well get it over

  with. But if I start to make a fool of myself, rescue me, okay?”

  I made a beeline to the mics, catching the press a little off-guard.

  “My name is Jack Patterson. I assume you think I’m here to repre-

  sent Dr. Stewart. I’m not. He’s a friend and a former colleague of my

  late wife. I don’t normally talk to the press regarding a pending legal

  matter, but I hope that by answering a few questions I can dispel any

  further misconceptions. Fire away.”

  “Do you represent Dr. Stewart?”

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  “No, Dr. Stewart’s wife has engaged Micki lawrence to represent

  him.” Micki was going to shoot me for letting this information out

  before arraignment.

  “Is the professor connected to Woody Cole in any way?”

  “No. To my knowledge Dr. Stewart and Mr. Cole have never met.”

  “Dr. Stewart told U.S. Attorney Blanchard that you represent him.

  If you aren’t going to be his lawyer, why are you here?”

  Micki had asked the same question, and I wasn’t sure of the answer.

  So I did the Texas two-step.

  “As I said earlier, he and I are friends, and he worked with my

  wife. I don’t know why he told Mr. Blanchard I was his lawyer. I

  have the utmost confidence in Ms. lawrence, and I’m here to offer

  the Stewarts my support. I can’t believe his arrest is anything but a

  misunderstanding.”

  I heard a few muffled snickers. They were justified. Someone in the

  rear shouted,

  “When will charges be filed?”

  “I have no idea. I’m not privy to the U.S. attorney’s plans. one

  more question.” It was time to leave.

  “Dub Blanchard says Dr. Stewart was a major supplier of drugs to

  little Rock’s school children and a terrorist. How can you suggest

  his arrest is a misunderstanding? He had over a hundred marijuana

  plants growing in his back yard.” Fair question.

  “The Dr. Stewart I know is a world famous chemist who has devoted

  his life to serving humanity and science. I’m sure your questions will

  be answered in due course, but I hope you will all give him the pre-

  sumption of innocence our Constitution guarantees.”

  Hiding behind the Constitution never works, but it was all I had.

  I’d given the press some copy and not done too much damage to

  Micki’s defense. I gave Clovis the high sign and we walked around

  back to his Tahoe, ignoring their shouted questions. The reporters

  were unhappy, but at that point, so what? A lawyer’s job is to win his

  case in the courtroom, not become a media darling.

  “Clovis, Doug Stewart threw me for a few loops today. The deputy

  marshal shut it down before I could get many answers, but Micki and

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  I get to see him again tomorrow. I sure hope he can explain why he

  grew all that grass.”

  “You getting involved after all?”

  “I hope not. I don’t know him well, but he seems like a stand-up kind

  of guy, and I know Angie thought a lot of him. But I run a foundation

  that doesn’t need me to get mixed up in a drug case. He seems to be

  okay with Micki, but maybe I can help a little from the sidelines. You up

  to doing a little investigative work? Just for the fun of it?”

  Clovis chuckled. “Shit, I knew trouble was landing when your plane

  touched the ground. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “Well, I’m curious. Dub insists Stewart is a major league drug dealer.

  I know Dub’s a blowhard and inclined to put his foot in his mouth,

  but he wouldn’t get this far out on a limb unless he had some sort of

  solid proof. Besides, Main Justice wouldn’t let Dub get involved with

  a local grower unless he was part of a cartel or selling other big-time

  drugs . liz told Micki that Doug only used the pot for research, claims

  he never sold a single leaf. So, nothing adds up. I’d like some answers

  before I get back to my never-ending board meetings. That’s all.”

  The corner of his mouth turned down skeptically as he brought me

  back to reality.

  “No offense, Jack, but I’d cool it for at least a day. Maybe he’ll tell

  you what he was doing with all that grass. Maybe it’ll all make sense,

  but the facts seem pretty straight to me. If Micki can deal with Dub,

  he’ll be out on bail by Monday. You need to put the brakes on that

  engine of yours.”

  He had a point.

  “The professor got caught with some weed, it’s that simple. Micki

  handles these cases in her sleep. People grow marijuana for two rea-

  sons: to make money or to use it themselves, usually both. Don’t let

  your imagination get the better of you.”

  Clovis and I had been through a lot the year before, so his blunt

  words of advice came as no surprise. Besides, he was right. I was

  sticking my nose in Micki’s business because I was bored with my own.

  I gave it up and was well into a mental checklist of friends I hoped to

  see when Clovis muttered, “I’ll be damned.”

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  w e b b h u b b e l l

  “What?” I looked up.

  “I’ve been lecturing you about not getting worked up, and damned

  if we ain’t being followed. Shit, Jack. Can’t anything you do be simple?”

  I instinctively turned around.

  Clovis said, “It’s the black Infiniti a few cars back.”

  “Really? You sure it’s not some old girlfriend following you?”

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  The man driving the Infiniti instinctively knew he’d been made.

  He made a quick right turn. Damn that Clovis Jones, he thought. He

  shouldn’t have taken the risk. Keeping an eye on liz and Micki was

  a piece of cake, but he’d gotten sloppy, and now he’d have to throw

  Jones off his scent.

  He parked the car on a side street and called a cab. A new car would

  be waiting for him tonight in a lot downtown, the Infiniti long gone. As

  he waited, his phone beeped the arrival of an incoming message—the

  report on Patterson’s meeting with the professor from Smith’s source

  inside the courthouse. He knew Patterson could quickly become an

  irritant, but right now he was more worried about Jones.

  “He’s gone,” I said. “Maybe it was a false alarm.”

  “No, he was tailing us,” Clovis said, as his eyes moved rapidly back

  and forth from the rear-view mirror to the road ahead.

  “It’s pretty simple. Someone’s worried about what the professor

  might have told you. In the drug world, the first guy caught rats every-

  body else out up and down the chain. Someone’s worried you’ve come

  to town to make a deal. every doper in town knows Micki won’t let her

  clients plead out by fingering their cohorts. She drops them like a hot

  potato. If we’d gone to Sam’s office after talking to the Professor, you

  could bet the rats would be deserting town tonight.”

  “Well, maybe I should go see Sam,” I kidded.

  Sam Pagano was the first friend I’d made when I moved to little

  Rock as a kid. He was Pulaski County’s public defender for years before

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  w e b b h u b b e l l

  he was elected prosecuting attorney. Maybe he could shed some light

  on Doug Stewart.

  We pulled up to the Hotel Armitage, and after changing and

  cleaning up, I went to meet Micki and Clovis in the hotel’s bar. I felt my

  heart miss a beat or two when I entered the familiar room. I loved its

  dark oak paneling and its comfortable musty smell. The only sounds

  were quiet strains of jazz and the low rumble of voices, no blaring

  racket from big screen Tv’s. I found Micki and Clovis seated at a quiet

  corner, far removed from the bustle of the late afternoon crowd. She

  had changed into slim white pants and a shimmery blue silk blouse. I

  noticed a hint of mascara and the sheen of lip-gloss, unusual for her.

  I took a breath and asked for a Bombay Martini, extra dry with olives.

  “I hope you got dressed up for me.” I knew I shouldn’t flirt, but

  couldn’t resist. She didn’t seem to mind.

  Smiling smugly, she retorted, “Well, no—I’m meeting a client.

  The rule for the female professional is not to overdress, but not to

  diminish your client by dressing down. You know what? I bet when liz

  appears, I’ll feel underdressed.”

  The waiter brought our drinks, and I filled Micki in on my meeting

  with Doug. She agreed that Doug was delusional if he thought it wasn’t

  about the drugs. Dub’s office had been fairly cooperative in allowing

  liz to get her clothes and some basics. The calico cat was enjoying life

  at a neighbor’s, and liz had found a place to rent near her spa.

  “Clovis told me you want him to do some investigative work. Sounds

  like I have my partner back. What’s up? ”

  “I don’t want to get ahead of you, but I have a few ideas. What you

  do with them is up to you.”

  “I remember your ‘shower thoughts,’” she said with an easy laugh.

  “Fire away.”

  “Dub has a slam dunk against Doug on the growing charges, but

  instead of playing it straight, he’s going to great lengths to trash him,

  accusing him of selling to kids and being a terrorist. He’s on a media

  blitz, appearing on every Tv show he can. I don’t see the point, but we

  shouldn’t underestimate him. Dub learned how to sling mud with the

  best when he worked for the Senate Judiciary Committee. He knew

  just how to play the press when his senator wanted to kill a judicial

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  nomination. He may be a media hound with zero legal skills, but he

  has a doctorate in character assassination.”

  “So what do you think he’s up to?” Micki asked.

  “He’s brought in all these suits from Main Justice, not to mention

  the DeA—why? He’s kept his own staff and the local authorities totally

  out of the loop, even Sam—why? Why all this secrecy and firepower for

  a local drug bust? I smell a skunk. Clovis, this is where you come in.”

  “Happy to do what I can—what do you have in mind?”

  “Well, if Doug were really a major supplier in little Rock, somebody

  had to have known it. And why is Dub so hell-bent on discrediting

  Doug? If he’s no more than your garden-variety dealer and pusher,

  why all the hoopla? It doesn’t make sense. Nose around a little, see

  what you can find out.”

  I asked a few teasers about gambling and underworld connections

  in both little Rock and Arkansas in general. It wasn’t long before

  Micki and Clovis took over, tossing information and ideas back and

  forth while I listened, enjoying my martini and trying to absorb what

  I heard. It seemed my old hometown had quite the dark side. The

  name “Novak” came up more than once. From what I’d heard about

  the man, it seemed he had a lot bigger fish to fry, but then again,

  Doug had grown a whole lot of grass.

  My thoughts had begun to drift when Clovis laughed at something

  Micki said, and she put her hand behind my head, surprising me with

  a firm kiss.

  “I’m not complaining, but what brought that on?” I asked, grinning.

  “Because it’s so damn much fun working with you. I wish you were

  staying.”

  I wished eric were leaving.

  Clovis chortled, “I’m not about to kiss you, Jack, but it is good to

  have you back. With your permission, Micki, I’ll get my people to

  work, starting tomorrow. I’ll give you an estimate. If it’s a problem,

  we’ll work something out.”

  “You’re on. I’ll run it by liz, but money doesn’t seem to be a