The Client (Page 71)

This game was growing more dangerous by the hour. And she, Reggie Love, Attorney and Counselor-at-Law, was supposed to have all the answers and dispense perfect advice. Mark would look at her with those scared blue eyes, and ask what to do next. How the hell was she supposed to know?

They were after her too.

DOREEN WOKE MARK EARLY. SHE’D FIXED BLUEBERRY MUFfins for him, and she nibbled on one and watched him with great concern. Mark sat in a chair, holding a muffin but not eating it, just staring blankly at the floor. He slowly raised the muffin to his mouth, took a tiny bite, then lowered it to his lap. Doreen watched every move.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" she asked him.

Mark nodded slowly. "Oh, I’m fine," he said in a hollow, hoarse voice.

Doreen patted his knee, then his shoulder. Her eyes were narrow and she was very troubled. "Well, I’ll be around all day," she said as she stood and walked to the door. "And I’ll be checking on you." Mark ignored her, and took another small bite of his muffin. The door slammed and clicked, and suddenly he crammed the rest of it in his mouth and reached for another.

He turned on the television, but with no cable he was forced to watch Bryant Gumbel. No cartoons. No old movies. Just Willard in a hat eating corn on the cob and sweet potato sticks.

Doreen returned twenty minutes later. The keys jangled outside, the lock popped, and the door opened. "Mark, come with me," she said. "You have a visitor." He was suddenly still again, detached, lost in another world. He moved slowly. "Who?" he said in that voice.

"Your lawyer." He" stood and followed her into the hallway. "Are you sure you’re okay?" she asked, squatting in front of him. He nodded slowly, and they walked to the stairs.

Reggie was waiting in a small conference room one floor below. She and Doreen exchanged pleasantries, old acquaintances, and the door was locked. They sat on opposite sides of a small round table.

"Are we buddies?" she asked with a smile.

"Yeah. I’m sorry about yesterday." "You don’t need to apologize, Mark. Believe me, I understand. Did you sleep well?" "Yeah. Much better than at the hospital." "Doreen says she’s worried about you." "I’m fine. I’m much better off than Doreen." "Good." Reggie pulled a newspaper from her briefcase and placed the front page on the table. He read it very slowly.

"You’ve made the front page three days in a row," she said, trying to coax a smile.

"It’s getting old. I thought the hearing was private." "Supposed to be. Judge Roosevelt called me early this morning. He’s very upset about the story. He plans to bring in the reporter and grill him about it." "It’s too late for that, Reggie. The story is right here in print. Everybody sees it. It’s pretty obvious I’m the kid who knows too much." "Right." She waited as he read it again and studied the pictures of himself.

"Have you talked to your mother?" she asked.

"Yes ma’am. Yesterday afternoon around five. She sounded tired." "She is. I saw her before you called, and she’s hanging in there. Ricky had a bad day.", "Yeah. Thanks to those stupid cops. Let’s sue them." "Maybe later. We need to talk about something. After you left the courtroom yesterday, Judge Roosevelt talked to the lawyers and the FBI. He wants you, your mother, and Ricky placed in the Federal Witness Protection Program. He thinks it’s the best way to protect you, and I tend to agree." "What is it?" "The FBI moves you to a new location, a very secret one, far away from here, and you have new names, new schools, new everything. Your mother has a new job, one that pays a lot more than six dollars an hour. After a few years there, they might move you again, just to be safe. They’ll place Ricky in a much better hospital until he’s better. Government pays for everything, of course." "Do I get a new bike?" "Sure." "Just kidding. I saw this once in a movie. A Mafia movie. This informant ratted on the Mafia, and the FBI helped him vanish. He had plastic surgery. They found him a new wife, you know, the works. Sent him off to Brazil or someplace." "What happened?" "It took them about a year to find him. They killed his wife too." choice. It’s the safest thing to do." "Of course, I have to tell them everything before they do all these wonderful things for us." "That’s part of the deal." "The Mafia never forgets, Reggie." "You’ve watched too many movies, Mark." "Maybe so. But has the FBI ever lost a witness in this program?" The answer was yes, but she couldn’t cite a specific example. "I don’t know, but we’ll meet with them and you can ask all the questions you want." "What if I don’t want to meet with them? What if I want to stay in my little cell here until I’m twenty years old and Judge Roosevelt finally dies? Then can I get out?" "Fine. What about your mother and Ricky? What happens to them when he’s released from the hospital and they have no place to go?" "They can move in with me. Doreen’ll take care of us." Damn, he was quick for an eleven-year-old. She paused for a moment and smiled at him. He glared at her.

"Listen, Mark, do you trust me?" "Yes, Reggie. I do trust you. You’re the only person in the world I trust right now. So please help me." "There’s no easy way out, okay." "I know that." "Your safety is my only concern. The safety of you and your family. Judge Roosevelt feels the same way. Now, it’ll take a few days to work out the details of the witness program. The judge instructed the FBI yesteraay to start woiKuig on u. iiiiu". iudu,i. y, [um " think it’s the best thing to do." "Did you discuss it with my mother?" "Yes. She wants to talk about it some more. I think she liked the idea." "But how do you know it’ll work, Reggie? Is it totally safe?" "Nothing is totally safe, Mark. There are no guarantees." "Wonderful. Maybe they’ll find us, maybe they won’t. That’ll make life exciting, won’t it." "Do you have a better idea?" "Sure. It’s very simple. We collect the insurance money from the trailer. We find another one, and we move into it. I keep my mouth shut and we live happily ever after. I don’t really care if they ever find this body, Reggie. I just don’t care." "I’m sorry, Mark, but that can’t happen." "Why not?" "Because you happen to be very unlucky. You have some important information, and you’ll be in trouble until you give it up." "And then I could be dead." "I don’t think so, Mark." He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. There was a slight bruise high on his left cheek, and it was turning brown. This was Friday. He’d been slapped by Clifford on Monday, and though it seemed like weeks ago the bruise reminded her that things were happening much too fast. The poor kid still bore the wounds of the attack.

"Where would we go?" he asked softly, his eyes still closed.

"Far away. Mr. Lewis with the FBI mentioned a cnuaren s psycmauii, uuspn-cu m. i. v/i. ucu"^+^~ ^"r posed to be one of the best. They’ll place Ricky in it with the best of everything." "Can’t they follow us?" "The FBI can handle it." He stared at her. "Why do you suddenly trust the FBI?" "Because there’s no one else to trust." "How long will all this take?" "There are two problems. The first is the paperwork and details. Mr. Lewis said it could be done within a week. The second is Ricky. It might be a few days before Dr. Greenway will allow him to be moved." "So I’m in jail for another week?" "Looks like it. I’m sorry." "Don’t be sorry, Reggie. I can handle this place. In fact, I could stay here for a long time if they’d leave me alone." "They’re not going to leave you alone." "I need to talk to my mother." "She might be at the hearing today. Judge Roosevelt wants her there. I suspect he’ll have a meeting, off the record, with the FBI people and discuss the witness protection program." "If I’m gonna stay in jail, why have the hearing?" "In contempt matters, the judge is required to bring you back into court periodically to allow you to purge yourself of contempt, in other words, to do what he wants you to do." "The law stinks, Reggie. It’s silly, isn’t it?" "Oftentimes, yes." "I had a wild thought last night as I was trying to go to sleep. I thought-what if the body is not where Clifford said it is. What it Uliltora was just crazy ana talking out of his head? Have you thought about that, Reggie?" "Yes. Many times." "What if all this is a big joke?" "We can’t take that chance, Mark." He rubbed his eyes and slid his chair back. He began walking around the small room, suddenly very nervous. "So we just pack up and leave our lives behind, right? That’s easy for you to say, Reggie. You’re not the one who’ll have the nightmares. You’ll go on like nothing ever happened. You and Glint. Momma Love. Nice little law office. Lots of clients. But not us. We’ll live in fear for the rest of our lives." "I don’t think so." "But you don’t know, Reggie. It’s easy to sit here and say everything’!! be fine. Your neck’s not on the line." "You have no choice, Mark." "Yes I do. I could lie."