William Bernhardt - Dark Justice

Sasquatch lifted a beer bottle, polishing it off. It could be that she was just swimming in the dark, that she didn’t know a damn thing. And if so, fine.

But it was also possible she knew everything, and she was just biding her time, filling in the gaps in her story. If that was it …

Sasquatch sat grimly in the booth, clutching the empty beer bottle with both hands. Things had come too far. There was too much invested to let her bring it all crashing down now. If she knew …

The secret would have to die. With her.

While Ben waited for the sheriff to arrive the next morning, he strolled around the jail and courthouse complex. The building was weather-worn yellow brick, like most of the downtown edifices. Climbing ivy decorated the west wall, adding a splash of color to the otherwise monochrome facade. The parking was in the back, and there was a good deal more of it than Ben would have guessed. What most surprised him, though, were the two helicopters in the rear, each with its own helipad. Ben had spent enough time with his cop friend Mike Morelli, who was the pilot and co-owner of his own copter, to know they were expensive pieces of equipment-not something you’d expect to find in a tiny town like Magic Valley.

Eventually Ben saw Sheriff Allen pull into the parking lot. He followed the man to his office.

Allen was obviously surprised to see him. “Granted, I was expectin’ to see that cute little friend of yours come lunchtime, but I didn’t expect to see you again come hell or high water.”

“I can imagine. I thought you opened up at nine. I’ve been waiting since then.”

“Oops. Sorry about that. Had some business to take care of. Deputy Hardin was supposed to be in. Guess he got called out.”

Ben nodded. “It’s all right. Out catching bad guys?”

“I wish. Nah, I was on the phone with some hospital bureaucrat in Seattle. My mother’s in a cancer treatment center there.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You and me both. She’s been there four years. It’s all that’s kept her alive. But it’s just about killed me.”

“Are you her only child?”

“Nah. Got me a sister here in town. But she’s-well, not too good in the head. So I’ve got to take care of Mom myself.” He waved his hand in the air. “But I’m sure you’ve got problems, too.”

“I saw two helicopters out back,” Ben said. “Mind if I ask what they’re for?”

“Mountain rescues, mostly,” Allen explained. “When we need to get up there in a hurry. Or when conventional approaches don’t work-like after ’bout thirty feet of snow.”

“You have pilots?”

“I fly one of those little birdies myself. So do two of my deputies. We don’t use ’em all that often, but they’re nice to have for emergencies.” He jingled the keys dangling from his belt. “Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t come here to engage in friendly chitchat. What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been asked to represent George Zakin. As his attorney.”

The sheriff pushed his hat back. “You’re representing Zakin? I thought Bruce Bailey drew that short straw.”

“Bruce has agreed to step down, since he’s never tried anything more serious than a drunk and disorderly. Although technically, he will serve as local counsel.”

“Does Judge Pickens know about this?”

“He will as soon as he reads my entry of appearance and application for admission pro hac vice .”

Allen slid out of his chair, shaking his head. “Mister, it’s not for me to tell a stranger what to do. But I think you’re asking for a whole passel of trouble.”

Ben nodded. “Story of my life.”

“Mind you, I’ve got no problem with wanting to protect the environment. But those Green Rage people think it’s acceptable to break the law. What’s worse, they like to plant bombs. I had to go off to some special bomb school in L.A. just to get educated enough to deal with these characters.” Allen fingered the rim of his hat. “I don’t care nothing about their politics. But if they break the law, they’re criminals. Period.”

Ben could see he was unlikely to find much sympathy here. “Can I see my client?”

“Suit yourself. I got him in a private cell in the back.” He undipped his ring of keys from his belt. “Follow me.”

It had been bothering Ben all night. He had never been good with names, but George Zakin was so distinctive, he knew it couldn’t be a coincidence. He’d heard the name before. Unfortunately, he couldn’t for the life of him remember where.

Until he saw the man’s face.

“George Zakin,” Ben said, thinking aloud. “Zak. Of course.” He stepped into the cell and waited until the sheriff had closed the door behind him. “I represented you back in Tulsa. The chimp case. How long ago?”

“Been a good many years, counselor.” Zak grinned. “Maureen told me you were coming.”

“Six years,” Ben murmured, still thinking backwards. “Six years if it was a day.”

Zak’s long black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Looked as if it hadn’t been washed in many moons. He had a scruffy beard that masked a rough complexion. His blue jeans had holes in at least three places. “You were just getting started back then.”

Ben nodded his head, remembering. “I was. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Maybe not. But you got me off.”

“You were up for first-degree murder that time, too.”

“Yup. Strange world, ain’t it?” He laughed softly. “I ’bout blew a gasket when Maureen told me who she’d lined up to handle the case. Who’da thunk?” He motioned, inviting Ben to the lower bunk, the only place to sit. “And look how far you’ve come. Now you’re the experienced defense attorney. And a writer to boot.”

“You’ve come a long way yourself,” Ben said. “From animal rights to environmental … activism.”

“Both worthy causes,” Zak said firmly. “But I realized that the forests are the emergency cause at this juncture in history. You may have heard-I had a bit of a falling-out with Clayton Langdell and the rest of the gang in the animal rights group.”

“I hadn’t.”

“But it worked out for the best. This is where I belong.”

“In jail?”

He laughed. “No, I mean with Green Rage. These are the people who know what’s really happening to the world. And they aren’t afraid to do something about it.”

Ben overlooked the last bit. Green Rage’s tendency to “do something about it” was the part he was trying to forget. “How long have you been with the group?”

“More than three years now.”

“And you’re the leader?”

“Of the local chapter.” Zak shrugged. “What can I say? I was born to lead.”

“There must be more to it.”

“I had a lot of experience from the chimp raids and whatnot that Green Rage found invaluable. Believe me, after figuring out how to break into some of those high-security research labs, spiking trees and putting sugar in Mr. Ranger’s gas tank is a cinch.” He leaned forward eagerly. “So you’re going to take my case?”

“Only if you want me to. This isn’t a mandatory assignment. You have the right to pick your own attorney. If you don’t want me, just say the word and I’m out the door.”

“What, are you kidding? Before, I was headed for trial with some nerd who couldn’t beat a traffic ticket. Now I’m with my old buddy, the lawyer with a proven track record. This is a dream come true.”

“Still, it could focus the prosecution on your prior arrest-”

“Ben, I was looking at doing twenty, thirty years in the state pen, easy. Maybe even the death penalty. Until now. I know what you can do. I’ve seen you do it.”