Read Online A Case of Redemption by Adam Mitzner - Free Book Online Page A

one play, however, made Macy the most famous football player in the world.
    He faded back to pass, and must have seen a receiver open, because his arm shot forward, releasing the ball. But the pass was swatted at the line of scrimmage and, as if God Himself had a wager on the Jets, the ball fell back into Macy’s arms.
    Macy turned on a dime and scrambled to the other side of the field. By the time he was able again to look upfield for receivers, the clock read double zero—meaning that the game would end on this play. There’d be no game-tying field goal. It was now or never.
    I was watching the game in my living room. For most of it, Sarah was reading, periodically asking me the score, usually after I’d shouted at the screen. But for that last drive, she was keenly focused, and even Alexa, who had been coloring on the floor for most of the second half, seemed interested in the outcome.
    It was Sarah who first said, “He’s going to run.”
    When she said it, Macy was around the twenty-yard line. “Nah, that’s too far away,” I said, sounding as if I was far more expert about football than I actually was.
    As was usually the case when Sarah and I disagreed, she wasright. Almost as soon as the words left my lips, Macy darted forward.
    I’ve seen the play fifty times by now, and yet I could see it fifty more times and still not look away for a second. It was unbelievable, electrifying. The Bears defenders, who must have seemed miles away when Macy made the decision to head for the end zone, closed in a flash. From the camera angle, it looked as if Macy was alone in taking on the entire Bears defense. He shot to the left, and then juked to the right, like a slalom skier, weaving in and out of 350-pound men as if they were stationary gates.
    Seconds before, all seemed hopeless for New York. Now it actually looked like he was going to make it. He hurdled one linesman, spun around another, and literally flew over the last two, landing safely on the other side of the goal line.
    â€œ Yes! Yeeeeeeeesssssss! ” I screamed, standing in front of the TV now, and even Sarah shouted something, because Alexa said, “What just happened?”
    â€œThe man on the television just scored a touchdown, and the Jets won the Super Bowl!” I exclaimed.
    â€œOh,” Alexa said, putting the event in some perspective, as Sarah howled with laughter.
    The next time I thought of Darrius Macy was nearly three months later, when Benjamin Ethan called me. It was a Thursday night, and as usual on Thursday nights, I was still in the office at ten p.m.
    â€œHave you ever heard of a football player named Darrius Macy?” Ethan asked.
    I remember thinking that it was almost like asking, Have you ever heard of a president of the United States named Barack Obama? Of course I’d heard of Darrius Macy.
    â€œYes” was all I actually said.
    â€œWell, he’s in lockup down at the Tombs, awaiting a seven a.m. arraignment tomorrow on rape charges. It’ll be yours if you feel like meeting him down at 100 Centre Street.”
    â€œSure,” I said. “You going to meet me there?”
    â€œNo, Daniel, you’ll be flying solo on this one. That all right?”
    â€œBetter than all right. How come?”
    â€œSadly for Mr. Macy, and, I suppose, luckily for you, he is something of a spendthrift. I’m told he can scrape together about two hundred grand, but his first priority is putting as much of that as he needs toward making bail. That means there’s not going to be enough left over to pique my interest, especially to represent a rapist. But it would be great exposure for you. Lawyer to the stars, and all that.”
    I had no qualms about representing a rapist. He had me at “lawyer to the stars.”
    â€œThat sounds great,” I said.
    â€œWell, it’s not set in stone yet,” Ethan said. “I suspect there’ll be some pushback from the