Read Online No Legal Grounds by James Scott Bell - Free Book Online Page B

wanted to make her proud.
He took the LSAT and aced it, got accepted at UCLA Law. Graduated top ten percent, went to work for the US attorney’s office downtown.
By then Heather had come along, and so had Lew Newman, with a proposal to open up a two-man firm. Sam had met Lew, a Brooklyn DA, on a big RICO case involving both coasts. The two hit it off and kept in touch.
And through it all, Linda stood by him, did charity work, mothered Heather and Max.
The firm of Newman & Trask started taking off. Sure, Sam had to work long hours, but there were benefits. He and Linda bought a nice big house in Encino, up in the hills.
It was the all-American dream.
Then Linda’s mother died in a car accident on Balboa Boulevard. A drag-racing kid hit her head-on. Both died instantly.
Linda went into a deep depression. It was not like her, she of the sunny optimism. Sam was concerned and almost ordered her to seek a doctor’s help.
Linda found Christ instead.
Sam couldn’t argue about the change. Linda started attending a small Bible study at her friend Melanie’s house. One night — as Linda told him later — she was filled with what she called the Holy Spirit, calling to her, and she made her confession of Christ. The Bible study leader took her out to Melanie’s swimming pool and baptized her.
All of it was a whirlwind of change in Linda, and Sam went along with it, because the depression was gone. Now he had a wife who was “on fire.”
She tried to get Sam to follow along. He resisted.
He kept resisting until the night he almost hit her and had to face his own demons, and Pastor Lyle showed him the only way to defeat them was through Christ.
And life was going to be perfect after that.
Now, lying in bed, he thought of all the ways life was not perfect, and how they seemed connected to this odd blast from the past named Nicky Oberlin. He couldn’t live in fear of odd people because the world was stuffed with them. But there was more to this Oberlin. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He knew he’d be hearing from Nicky again, and he dreaded it.
The dread kept him from sleep.
7.
    Sam took a shower and shaved in the downstairs bathroom, silently fetched his clothes from the bedroom, and got dressed. Then he made a pot of coffee for Linda. He left her a note saying he loved her and set it next to the coffee. Linda was still in bed when he left the house.
    Sam stopped at Starbucks and took three shots in a latte. Overload, yes, but he had to be sharp this morning. Lew was counting on him. This was going to be the most important meeting with the clients yet. A rare Saturday meeting, because Allen Appleby wanted no distractions.
    And what Allen Appleby wanted, he got.
Sam met Lew at the office, and they drove downtown in Lew’s silver Porsche. A little class, even though the clients wouldn’t see it in the bowels of the parking garage. Lew’s theory was if you look good you’ve won half the battle. You always went in with a little more confidence.
The other half of the battle was knowing what you were talking about, had it dead-on, and today that burden fell on Sam.
“You okay?” Lew said after they parked.
No, he wasn’t. “Fine.”
“You seem a little tired.”
“Just a little.”
“What’s up?”
“Nothing’s up.” The edge in Sam’s voice might have scratched paint. “Sorry, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night.”
“You feel ready?”
“Yes, I’m ready. Don’t worry.”
But Sam had a small fist in his gut as they took the elevator to the fortieth floor of the Taylor Building. The fist punched a couple of times as they were ushered into Allen Appleby’s office.
Appleby greeted them with an athletic handshake. The FulCo CEO was tall, gray-haired, and sharply suited in pinstripes. His office was all leather and teak, and large enough for a half-court basketball game. Large enough, too, to contain the massive ego of Stuart Hoch, FulCo’s in-house counsel. Hoch was around Sam’s age,