Tell Me Your Dreams

"What are you getting mad about?" David took a deep breath. "Because I’m going to do it."

Quiller smiled. "Why am I not surprised?" David ran his hand across his forehead, "if I turned him down, and his daughter was convicted and executed, and I did nothing to help, I – I couldn’t live with myself."

"I understand. How does Sandra feel about this?" David managed a smile. "You know Sandra."

"Yeah. She wants you to go a bead with it."

"Right."

Quiller leaned forward. "I’ll do everything I can to help you, David."

David sighed. "No. That’s part of my bargain. I have to handle this alone."

Quiller frowned. "That doesn’t make any sense."

"I know. I tried to explain that to Dr. Patterson, but he wouldn’t listen."

"Have you told Kincaid about this yet?"

"I’m having a meeting with him in the morning."

"What do you think will happen?"

"I know what’s going to happen. He’s going to advise me not to take the case and, if I insist, he’ll ask me to take a leave of absence without pay."

"Let’s have lunch tomorrow. Rubicon, one o’clock." David nodded. "Fine."

Emily came in from the kitchen wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. David and Quiller rose.

"Hello, David." Emily hustled up to him, and he gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I hope you’re hungry. Dinner’s almost ready. Sandra’s in the kitchen helping me. She’s such a dear." She picked up a tray and hurried back into the kitchen.

Quiller turned to David. "You mean a great deal to Emily and me. I’m going to give you some advice. You’ve got to let go." David sat there, saying nothing. "That was a long time ago, David. And what happened wasn’t your fault. It could have happened to anyone."

David looked at Quiller. "It happened to me, Jesse. I killed her."

*   *   *

It was deja vu. All over again. And again. David sat there, transported back to another time and another place.

It had been a pro bono case, and David had said to Jesse Quiller, "I’ll handle it."

Helen Woodman was a lovely young woman accused of murdering her wealthy stepmother. There had been bitter public quarrels between the two, but all the evidence against Helen was circumstantial. After David had gone to the jail and met with her, he was convinced she was innocent. With each meeting, he had become more emotionally involved. In the end, he had broken a basic rule: Never fall in love with a client.

The trial had gone well. David had refuted the prosecutor’s evidence bit by bit, and he had won the jury over to his client’s side. And unexpectedly, a disaster had occurred. Helen’s alibi was that at the time of the murder she had been at the theater with a friend. Under questioning in court, her friend admitted that the alibi was a lie, and a witness had come forward to say that he had seen Helen at her stepmother’s apartment at the time of the murder. Helen’s credibility was completely gone. The jury convicted her of first-degree murder, and the judge sentenced her to be executed. David was devastated.

"How could you have done this, Helen?" he demanded. "Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn’t kill my stepmother, David. When I got to her apartment, I found her on the floor, dead. I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me, so I – I made up the story about being at the theater."

He stood there, listening, a cynical expression on his face.

"I’m telling you the truth, David."

"Are you?" He turned and stormed out. Sometime during the night, Helen committed suicide. One week later, an ex-convict caught committing a burglary confessed to the murder of Helen’s stepmother.

The next day, David quit Jesse Quiller’s firm. Quiller had tried to dissuade him.

"It wasn’t your fault, David. She lied to you and – "

"That’s the point. I let her. I didn’t do my job. I didn’t make sure she was telling me the truth. I wanted to believe her, and because of that, I let her down."

Two weeks later, David was working for Kincaid, Turner, Rose & Ripley.

"I’ll never be responsible for another person’s life," David had sworn. And now he was defending Ashley Patterson.

Chapter Fourteen

AT ten o’clock the following morning, David walked into Joseph Kincaid’s office. Kincaid was signing some papers and he glanced up as David entered.

"Ah. Sit down, David. I’ll be through in a moment." David sat down and waited.

When Kincaid had finished, he smiled and said, "Well! You have some good news, I trust?"

Good news for whom? David wondered.

"You have a very bright future here, David, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to do anything to spoil that. The firm has big plans for you."

David was silent, trying to find the right words.

Kincaid said, "Well? Have you told Dr. Patterson that you’d find another lawyer for him?"

"No. I’ve decided that I’m going to defend her." Kincaid’s smile faded. "Are you really going to defend that woman, David? She’s a vicious, sick murderer. Anyone who defends her will be tarred with the same brush."

"I’m not doing this because I want to, Joseph. I’m obligated. I owe Dr. Patterson a great deal, and this is the only way I can ever repay him."

Kincaid sat there, silent. When he finally spoke, he said, "If you’ve really decided to go ahead with this, then I suggest that it would be appropriate for you to take a leave of absence. Without pay, of course."

Good-bye, partnership.

"After the trial, naturally, you’ll come back to us and the partnership will be waiting for you."