Read Online False Prey: A Wildfire Novella (Wildfire Saga) by Marcus Richardson - Free Book Online
Authors: Marcus Richardson
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this. Maybe it really is just a case of fear run amok. Maybe these people are just trying to make themselves feel a little more secure by having their little witch hunt. I don’t know…
Still…a little voice in the back of his head doggedly refused to give up the story. If nothing else, he could present it as a behind-the-lines expose to CNN or the other big networks. FOX would eat this up, for sure.
Before long, Danny had parked in the municipal lot again and walked up the short steps to the great slab of granite that served as the city hall, courthouse, and police station. There were less cars in the parking lot than before—a feat hard to accomplish considering how few there were earlier in the day—but there was no shortage of people milling about. Most wore flu masks. They gave him plenty of dirty looks and the murmur of conversation died down as he passed, but no one said anything. Until he reached the door.
“Korean lover!”
He ignored them and the sudden laughter was silenced as the heavy glass door closed behind him.
Korean lover? He remembered Sang’s question about how the people in town treated him. Whatever.
He headed for the Clerk of the Court’s office. She looked up from her cluttered desk and the smile forming on her face died a premature death. She was overweight, wore too much makeup, and smelled like the perfume counter at Macy’s. “Oh. You. Again,” she said in a monotone voice.
“Yes. Me. Again,” he said in what he hoped was a charming voice. Danny smiled and drummed his fingers on the desk and said, “Listen Dollface, is Judge Klein in? I’d like to ask him a few questions for The Tribune. ”
“He doesn’t like reporters. And anyway, I’m afraid Judge Klein is—”
“Send him in, Kathy,” the grizzled voice floated through the office from an open door behind the Clerk.
She sighed and jerked a pink-tipped thumb over her broad shoulder. “Go on in.”
“You’re the best, Kathy—I owe you one, Sugar.”
The Judge met him halfway into the large office. The floor-to-ceiling window blinds had been raised, letting in the mid-day sun and showcasing the fancy-looking wood paneling that positively enveloped the office. Danny took a quick look around as he stepped toward the old judge.
“Welcome, welcome!” said the ancient jurist, gathering his black robes about him like a wrinkled Caesar wrapping himself in a soot-stained toga. He extended a skeletal hand and made a pained expression that Danny took for a smile.
“Thank you for seeing me, Judge Klein.” Danny glanced at the rows upon rows of legal books lining the wall behind the judge’s imposing Federal-style desk. “Nice office you got here—must be half the building!”
“What, this old thing?” the judge said with obvious pride. “Oh, it’s not all that big. Just a little space for me to gather my thoughts between trials. Come in, sit down,” he said, motioning toward a leather wingback chair facing the desk.
Danny sat and cleared his throat. “I’m a reporter with The Louisville Tribune —”
“Mmmhmmm, I’ve heard of it.” The old man grimaced again. “I always have time for my friends in the Press,” the judge said with another graveyard smile.
Danny tried not to cringe. “That’s great, Your Honor. I’ll get right to the point—I’m sure you’re a very busy man.” The judge nodded in self-important satisfaction and leaned back in his impressive leather swivel chair—set a few inches higher than necessary, Danny noted.
“It’s been a tad slow around here lately,” the Judge chuckled. “This damn flu scare got everyone all riled up. Yessir.”
“I understand earlier today you held a closed-door arraignment for a case about a man arrested under charges of espionage? Care to comment?”
The smile on the judge’s face vanished in an instant. The
Still…a little voice in the back of his head doggedly refused to give up the story. If nothing else, he could present it as a behind-the-lines expose to CNN or the other big networks. FOX would eat this up, for sure.
Before long, Danny had parked in the municipal lot again and walked up the short steps to the great slab of granite that served as the city hall, courthouse, and police station. There were less cars in the parking lot than before—a feat hard to accomplish considering how few there were earlier in the day—but there was no shortage of people milling about. Most wore flu masks. They gave him plenty of dirty looks and the murmur of conversation died down as he passed, but no one said anything. Until he reached the door.
“Korean lover!”
He ignored them and the sudden laughter was silenced as the heavy glass door closed behind him.
Korean lover? He remembered Sang’s question about how the people in town treated him. Whatever.
He headed for the Clerk of the Court’s office. She looked up from her cluttered desk and the smile forming on her face died a premature death. She was overweight, wore too much makeup, and smelled like the perfume counter at Macy’s. “Oh. You. Again,” she said in a monotone voice.
“Yes. Me. Again,” he said in what he hoped was a charming voice. Danny smiled and drummed his fingers on the desk and said, “Listen Dollface, is Judge Klein in? I’d like to ask him a few questions for The Tribune. ”
“He doesn’t like reporters. And anyway, I’m afraid Judge Klein is—”
“Send him in, Kathy,” the grizzled voice floated through the office from an open door behind the Clerk.
She sighed and jerked a pink-tipped thumb over her broad shoulder. “Go on in.”
“You’re the best, Kathy—I owe you one, Sugar.”
The Judge met him halfway into the large office. The floor-to-ceiling window blinds had been raised, letting in the mid-day sun and showcasing the fancy-looking wood paneling that positively enveloped the office. Danny took a quick look around as he stepped toward the old judge.
“Welcome, welcome!” said the ancient jurist, gathering his black robes about him like a wrinkled Caesar wrapping himself in a soot-stained toga. He extended a skeletal hand and made a pained expression that Danny took for a smile.
“Thank you for seeing me, Judge Klein.” Danny glanced at the rows upon rows of legal books lining the wall behind the judge’s imposing Federal-style desk. “Nice office you got here—must be half the building!”
“What, this old thing?” the judge said with obvious pride. “Oh, it’s not all that big. Just a little space for me to gather my thoughts between trials. Come in, sit down,” he said, motioning toward a leather wingback chair facing the desk.
Danny sat and cleared his throat. “I’m a reporter with The Louisville Tribune —”
“Mmmhmmm, I’ve heard of it.” The old man grimaced again. “I always have time for my friends in the Press,” the judge said with another graveyard smile.
Danny tried not to cringe. “That’s great, Your Honor. I’ll get right to the point—I’m sure you’re a very busy man.” The judge nodded in self-important satisfaction and leaned back in his impressive leather swivel chair—set a few inches higher than necessary, Danny noted.
“It’s been a tad slow around here lately,” the Judge chuckled. “This damn flu scare got everyone all riled up. Yessir.”
“I understand earlier today you held a closed-door arraignment for a case about a man arrested under charges of espionage? Care to comment?”
The smile on the judge’s face vanished in an instant. The
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