Phillip Margolin - Fugitive

“As soon as we post bail.”

Charlie grinned. Then the grin faded as he remembered Nathan Tuazama. He scanned the crowd but the African was no longer in the courtroom.

“Something wrong?” Amanda asked.

“No, no. I’m just, uh, shocked by how fast everything went.”

“That makes two of us.”

“I bet you didn’t see that coming,” Kate said as she and Dennis joined Amanda and Charlie at counsel table.

“No, I didn’t,” Amanda answered, still confused by Burdett’s concession.

A sheriff’s deputy walked over to escort Charlie to the courthouse jail for booking.

“Kate, can you go with Charlie?”

“No problem.”

“I’ll get up to the jail as soon as I post your bail,” Amanda told her client. “Do not say anything about your case to anyone, understood?”

“Mum’s the word.”

“Good. See you in an hour or so.”

“I take it that this was unexpected?” Dennis Levy said.

“Very. I thought Burdett would fight to the death to keep Charlie in custody.”

“Any idea why he caved?”

“He didn’t cave , Dennis, and don’t you dare put it that way. I don’t want to make Karl sorry he gave us a break by making him look like a coward.”

“No, no, you’re right. I’ll write it up as a magnanimous concession.”

“Good.”

“So, why did he cave?” Levy asked with a grin.

“I have no idea. And now, you have to excuse me. I want Charlie out of custody as soon as possible.”

FIFTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, Amanda escorted Charlie out of the jail and into the sunlight. He paused in the warm summer air to close his eyes and take a deep breath. Amanda noticed a group of reporters moving toward them. Kate was waiting at the curb to drive Amanda to her car. Amanda grabbed Charlie’s elbow and hustled him toward the street. They were almost there when Kate’s windshield exploded.

Kate threw an arm across her face. Charlie froze. Amanda slammed a shoulder into his back and drove him to the pavement just before another bullet passed through the space where his head had been, before blasting a chunk of concrete from the courthouse facade.

A reporter screamed. Others ducked for cover. A cameraman swung around and foolishly looked for the shooter through his lens. Two sheriff’s deputies crouched at the entrance to the courthouse, guns drawn.

“Keep down,” Amanda shouted as she pushed her client halfway under the car.

“What happened?” Charlie asked.

“Someone shot at you. Stay still. The shots came from the other side of the car. The chassis will block you from view.”

Dennis Levy cowered on the floor in the back of Kate’s car. Kate crawled across the glass littering the front seat. She paused long enough to draw her gun before pushing open the passenger door and rolling to the pavement.

“Are you okay?” Amanda asked.

“Yeah.”

Amanda heard a siren. Kate got to one knee and peeked over the hood. An ambulance was speeding toward them and the cameraman who had tried to locate the shooter was pointing the police toward a row of two-story commercial buildings several blocks away. When Kate was certain they were safe she signaled Amanda and the women helped Charlie to his feet.

“You saved my life,” Charlie told Amanda.

“Jaffe, Katz, Lehane and Brindisi is a full-service law firm,” she joked, trying to keep her tone light while she fought the shakes that grew worse as her adrenaline wore off.

“I’m going to need a statement,” a police officer told Charlie. Charlie looked at Amanda.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You’re the victim here. Did you see who shot at you?”

“No. I was looking at the car door. I was going to get in when the window exploded. Then you pushed me to the ground.”

“I’m afraid I can’t add anything to what Mr. Marsh said. I didn’t see a thing. As soon as the window exploded I knocked him down. After that, the car blocked my view.”

“I’m going to need you to come inside anyway so the detectives can take a statement,” the officer told Amanda.

“That’s okay. We’ll just be hounded by the reporters if we stay outside,” Amanda said just as Karl Burdett raced out of the courthouse followed by some of his staff.

“What happened?” he asked Amanda.

“A sniper took a shot at Mr. Marsh.” Burdett turned pale. Amanda pointed to the place where the police had gone. “He was probably on one of those buildings.”

“This is terrible,” Burdett said, more to himself than Amanda. He looked stricken as he walked over to confer with one of the police officers, leaving Amanda confused by the DA’s reaction, which seemed wrong somehow, even given the upsetting event she had just witnessed.

Amanda had reserved rooms for Charlie and Dennis in a boutique hotel on the outskirts of downtown Portland. Levy chattered nonstop during the ride to the hotel but Charlie barely uttered a word. Amanda attributed his silence to trauma from the assassination attempt, but Charlie was thinking about Nathan Tuazama.

Charlie was exhausted when Amanda parked at the hotel. Levy invited them into the bar for a drink, but listening to the reporter drone on about himself was more than they could bear. Amanda begged off for both of them by saying that she had several matters to discuss with her client.

When the elevator stopped at Charlie’s floor, they walked down the corridor to his room. Charlie was about to slide the key card into the slot when he saw that the door was ajar. His mouth went dry and his pulse accelerated. He should have run but he wasn’t thinking straight and he pushed the door open.

The room looked like Hurricane Katrina had whipped through it. The mattress was off the bed and a knife had been taken to it. Stuffing from the mattress mixed with the contents of Charlie’s drawers and closet, which were strewn across the floor. The television had been dismantled and the air-conditioner had been ripped from the wall and taken apart.

Amanda phoned the front desk and told them to call the police. When she hung up she turned to her client.

“All right, Charlie, what’s going on here and does it have anything to do with the box I just stashed in my new safety-deposit box?”

“Probably,” Charlie answered nervously.

“Am I putting myself in danger because I’ve helped you?”

Before Charlie could answer, Amanda’s cell phone rang. She fished it out of her purse and saw that Mike Greene was the caller. Amanda excused herself and walked into the hall.

“I just heard about the shooting at the courthouse. Are you okay?” Mike asked.

Amanda could hear the concern in his voice. This wasn’t the first time Amanda had had a brush with death. Mike had been with her right after her hairbreadth escape from the serial killer the press had nicknamed the Surgeon and shortly after she’d survived a home invasion by professional killers while she was representing Jon Dupre. Amanda was glad he’d called. Knowing that Mike cared for her was as calming as a cup of chamomile tea.

“I’m fine. I was shaken up right after the shooting but I wasn’t hurt at all.”

“Do you want me to come over tonight? I can bring Chinese.”

“I think that’s a great idea. Look, I’m in the middle of something. Let me call you when I’m through and we’ll figure out tonight.”

Amanda disconnected just as the manager and hotel security stepped out of the elevator. After a brief look around, the manager told Charlie that he would move him to another room. Shortly after that two Portland Police officers walked in. While they were interviewing Amanda there was another knock on the door. Charlie turned. The man standing in the doorway looked familiar. When he saw Charlie was having trouble placing him, he held his hands out at his sides as if the greater exposure would solve Charlie’s problem.