Read Online Hostile Witness by Rebecca Forster - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rebecca Forster
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women doctors. Extreme women.”
Hannah put her burned hand to her throat and dropped the fingers down to the opening of her jumpsuit. This was a Linda move. Hannah was a puppy, learning all the wrong things before she was weaned. Sensing Josie’s discomfort, Hannah teased.
“The kind of women my mom likes either hate to screw, or they screw too much. That’s the kind of extreme they are. She probably likes lawyers like that, too. Which one are you?”
Josie shook her head.
“I’ve heard that word before, Hannah, so why don’t you tell me something I really want to know. Tell me what kind of doctors Fritz liked.” When Hannah fell silent Josie pushed on. “Your mother said Fritz Rayburn took an interest in you. She said he paid for some clinics and your doctors.”
Josie wasn’t playing Hannah’s game and Hannah wasn’t interested in Josie’s.
“They were just places, just people. I don’t think he ever met any of the doctors in them. He just sent me there.”
“How did you feel about that?”
“Like he was sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong; like he was punishing me when I didn’t do anything.”
The hair was going back and forth again but slower now as if she was seeing Fritz, hearing him, and was pissed at him. Between the words Hannah breathed her numbers. When she reached twenty twirls she stopped and put her burned hand on the table, always in the same place. She was done.
“I’m not going to talk about Fritz. He was just in the house sometimes, that’s all. He was a damn hypocrite always talking about the law, and justice, and art, and people falling all over him like he was better than everyone else. Well, he wasn’t better, and he wasn’t around a lot. So let’s not talk about Fritz.”
“How did all that make him a hypocrite, Hannah?” Josie pressed for information, looking for the bottom of Hannah’s resentment.
She shrugged, “I don’t know. He thought he was above everybody. Forget it. Forget him.”
“That’s all anybody’s going to be talking about, so you better get that through your head. You’re charged as an adult. You’re going to have to start acting like one.”
Hannah shifted. She sat up straight, still cautious but suddenly engaged.
“Okay. I’ll be an adult. I have some questions. How come my mom sent you and not some guy?”
“We went to school together,” Josie answered. “I told her I’d see you through the bail hearing, and then find someone to help if you go to trial.”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“I haven’t done criminal work for a long time,” Josie said, averting her eyes. “Not like this anyway.”
“How come?”
“Because I haven’t,” Josie retorted, peeved that this kid should insist on an answer.
“But why?” Hannah persisted.
“Because I was very good at it and sometimes I got people off who should have gone to jail. Sometimes they hurt more people. That’s why.”
“Oh, so you’re scared,” Hannah decided.
“I made a decision not to do major criminal work any more,” Josie insisted.
“You didn’t choose. You quit. You were scared you’d do it again.” Hannah smiled as if they had suddenly found a meeting ground. Now they could be friends. “I’d want you to help me. People who are scared think better. Besides, if you choose not to do something you can choose to do it again - if the person is innocent - right?”
Josie wasn’t listening to Hannah. Another voice came out of the walls and wrapped itself around her brain in tantalizing whispers. She had been in this room, in this place, listening to another client say the same words. Choose me. Help me. I’m innocent. I am.
“Isn’t that right? You can choose, right?” Hannah demanded, and Josie blinked.
“We’ll keep our options open,” she answered. “Do you have any other questions?”
Hannah eyed Josie, checking out every twitch, every evasion, and every noncommittal statement. Then she started to
Hannah put her burned hand to her throat and dropped the fingers down to the opening of her jumpsuit. This was a Linda move. Hannah was a puppy, learning all the wrong things before she was weaned. Sensing Josie’s discomfort, Hannah teased.
“The kind of women my mom likes either hate to screw, or they screw too much. That’s the kind of extreme they are. She probably likes lawyers like that, too. Which one are you?”
Josie shook her head.
“I’ve heard that word before, Hannah, so why don’t you tell me something I really want to know. Tell me what kind of doctors Fritz liked.” When Hannah fell silent Josie pushed on. “Your mother said Fritz Rayburn took an interest in you. She said he paid for some clinics and your doctors.”
Josie wasn’t playing Hannah’s game and Hannah wasn’t interested in Josie’s.
“They were just places, just people. I don’t think he ever met any of the doctors in them. He just sent me there.”
“How did you feel about that?”
“Like he was sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong; like he was punishing me when I didn’t do anything.”
The hair was going back and forth again but slower now as if she was seeing Fritz, hearing him, and was pissed at him. Between the words Hannah breathed her numbers. When she reached twenty twirls she stopped and put her burned hand on the table, always in the same place. She was done.
“I’m not going to talk about Fritz. He was just in the house sometimes, that’s all. He was a damn hypocrite always talking about the law, and justice, and art, and people falling all over him like he was better than everyone else. Well, he wasn’t better, and he wasn’t around a lot. So let’s not talk about Fritz.”
“How did all that make him a hypocrite, Hannah?” Josie pressed for information, looking for the bottom of Hannah’s resentment.
She shrugged, “I don’t know. He thought he was above everybody. Forget it. Forget him.”
“That’s all anybody’s going to be talking about, so you better get that through your head. You’re charged as an adult. You’re going to have to start acting like one.”
Hannah shifted. She sat up straight, still cautious but suddenly engaged.
“Okay. I’ll be an adult. I have some questions. How come my mom sent you and not some guy?”
“We went to school together,” Josie answered. “I told her I’d see you through the bail hearing, and then find someone to help if you go to trial.”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“I haven’t done criminal work for a long time,” Josie said, averting her eyes. “Not like this anyway.”
“How come?”
“Because I haven’t,” Josie retorted, peeved that this kid should insist on an answer.
“But why?” Hannah persisted.
“Because I was very good at it and sometimes I got people off who should have gone to jail. Sometimes they hurt more people. That’s why.”
“Oh, so you’re scared,” Hannah decided.
“I made a decision not to do major criminal work any more,” Josie insisted.
“You didn’t choose. You quit. You were scared you’d do it again.” Hannah smiled as if they had suddenly found a meeting ground. Now they could be friends. “I’d want you to help me. People who are scared think better. Besides, if you choose not to do something you can choose to do it again - if the person is innocent - right?”
Josie wasn’t listening to Hannah. Another voice came out of the walls and wrapped itself around her brain in tantalizing whispers. She had been in this room, in this place, listening to another client say the same words. Choose me. Help me. I’m innocent. I am.
“Isn’t that right? You can choose, right?” Hannah demanded, and Josie blinked.
“We’ll keep our options open,” she answered. “Do you have any other questions?”
Hannah eyed Josie, checking out every twitch, every evasion, and every noncommittal statement. Then she started to
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