Sidney Sheldon - Tell me your dreams

"I've already had calls from half a dozen top criminal defense lawyers. They all want to represent her." He leaned forward in his chair. "But they're not interested in my daughter, David. This is a high-profile case, and they're looking for the limelight. They don't give a damn about her. I do. She's all I have."

"I want you to save my mother's life. She's all I have." David said, "I really want to help you, but—"

"When you got out of law school, you went to work for a criminal law firm."

David's heart began to beat faster. ' "That's true, but—" "You were a criminal defense lawyer for several years."

David nodded. "Yes, but I—I gave it up. That was a long time ago and—"

"Not that long ago, David. And you told me how much you loved it. Why did you quit and go into corporate law?"

David sat there, silent for a moment. "It's not important."

Dr. Patterson took out a handwritten letter and banded it to David. David knew what it said, without reading it.

Dear Dr. Patterson,

There are no words that can ever express bow much I owe you and how much I appreciate your great generosity. If there's ever anything at all that I can do for you, all you have to do is ask me, and it shall be done without question.

David stared at the letter without seeing it. "David, will you talk to Ashley?" David nodded. "Yes, of course I'll talk to her, but-"

Dr. Patterson rose. "Thank you." David watched him walk out the door.

"Why did you quit and go into corporate law?"

Because I made a mistake, and an innocent woman I loved is dead. I swore I would never take anyone's life in my hands again. Ever.

I can't defend Ashley Patterson.

David pressed down the intercom button. "Holly, would you ask Mr. Kincaid if he can see me now?"

"Yes, sir."

Thirty minutes later, David was walking into the elaborate offices of Joseph Kincaid. Kincaid was in his sixties, a gray monochrome of a man, physically, mentally and emotionally.

"Well," he said as David walked in the door, "you're an anxious young fellow, aren't you? Our meeting wasn't supposed to be until five o'clock."

David approached the desk. "I know. I came here to discuss something else, Joseph." Years ago, David had made the mistake of calling him Joe, and the old man had had a fit. "Don't you ever call me Joe."

"Sit down, David."

David took a seat.

"Cigar? They're from Cuba."

"No, thanks."

"What's on your mind?"

"Dr. Steven Patterson was just in to see me."

Kincaid said, "He was on the news this morning. Damned shame. What did he want with you?"

"He asked me to defend his daughter."

Kincaid looked at David, surprised. "You're not a criminal defense lawyer."

"I told him that."

"Well, then." Kincaid was thoughtful for a moment "You know. I'd like to get Dr. Patterson as a client. He's very influential. He could bring a lot of business to this firm. He has connections with several medical organizations that—"

"There's more."

Kincaid looked at David, quizzically. "Oh?"

"I promised him I'd talk to his daughter."

"I see. Well, I suppose there's no harm in that. Talk to her, and then we'll find a good defense attorney to represent her."

"That's my plan."

"Good. We'll be building up some points with him. You go ahead." He smiled. "I'll see you at five o'clock."

"Right. Thank you, Joseph."

As David walked back to his office, he wondered to himself. Why in the world would Dr. Patterson insist on having me represent his daughter?

AT the Santa Clara County Jail, Ashley Patterson sat in her cell, too traumatized to try to make sense of how she got there. She was fiercely glad that she was in jail because the bars would keep out whoever was doing this to her. She wrapped the cell around herself like a blanket, trying to ward off the awful, inexplicable things that were happening to her. Her whole life had become a screaming nightmare. Ashley thought of all the mysterious events that had been happening: Someone breaking into her apartment and playing tricks on her... the trip to Chicago... the writing on her mirror... and now the police accusing her of unspeakable things she knew nothing about. There was some terrible conspiracy against her, but she had no idea who could be behind it or why.

Early that morning one of the guards had come to Ashley's cell. "Visitor."

The guard had led Ashley to the visitors' room, where her father was waiting for her.

He stood there, looking at her, his eyes grief stricken. "Honey...I don't know what to say."

Ashley whispered, "I didn't do any of the terrible things they said I did."

"I know you didn't. Someone's made an awful mistake, but we're going to straighten everything out."

Ashley looked at her father and wondered how she could have ever thought he was the guilty one.

"... don't you worry," he was saying. "Everything's going to be fine. I am getting a lawyer for you. David Singer. He's one of the brightest young men I know. He'll be coming to see you. I want you to tell him everything."

Ashley looked at her father and said hopelessly, "Father, I—I don't know what to tell him. I don't know what's happening."

"We'll get to the bottom of this, baby. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. No one! Ever! You mean too much to me. You're all I have, honey."

"And you're all I have," Ashley whispered.

Ashley's father stayed for another hour. When he left, Ashley's world narrowed down to the small cell she was confined in. She lay on her cot, forcing herself not to think about anything. This will be over soon, and I'll find that this is only a dream.... Only a dream... Only a dream... She slept.

The voice of a guard awakened her. "You have a visitor."

She was taken to the visitors' room, and Shane Miller was there, waiting. He rose as Ashley entered. "Ashley..." Her heart began to pound. "Oh, Shane!" She had never been so glad to see anyone in her life. Somehow she had known that he would come and free her, that he would arrange for than to let her go. "Shane, I'm so glad to see you!"

"I'm glad to see you," Shane said awkwardly. He looked around the drab visitors' room. "Although I must say, not under these circumstances. When I heard the news, I—I couldn't believe it. What happened? What made you do it, Ashley?"

The color slowly drained from her face. "What made me—? Do you think that I—?"

"Never mind," Shane said quickly. "Don't say any more. You shouldn't talk to anyone but your attorney."

Ashley stood there, staring at him. He believed she was guilty. "Why did you come here?"

"Well, I—I hale to do this now, but under—under the circumstances, I—the company—is terminating you. I mean... naturally, we can't afford to be connected with anything like this. It's had enough that the newspapers have already mentioned that you work for Global. You understand, don't you? There's nothing personal in this."

* * *

Driving down to San Jose, David Singer decided what he was going to say to Ashley Patterson. He would find oat what he could from her and then turn the information over to Jesse Quiller, one of the best criminal defense lawyers in the country. If anyone could help Ashley, it was Jesse.

David was ushered into the office of Sheriff Dowling. He handed the sheriff his card. "I'm an attorney. I'm here to see Ashley Patterson and—"

"She's expecting you." David looked at him in surprise. "She is?"

"Yeah." Sheriff Dowling turned to a deputy and nodded.

The deputy said to David, "This way." He led David into the visitors' room, and a few minutes later, Ashley was brought in from her cell.

Ashley Patterson was a complete surprise to David. He had met her once years ago, when he was in law school, chauffeuring her father. She had struck David as being an attractive, intelligent young girl. Now, he found himself looking at a beautiful young woman with frightened eyes. She took a seat across from him. "Hello, Ashley. I'm David Singer."