Free Tombstone Courage by J. A. Jance Page A

that'S supposed to start in Judge Moore's court tomorrow. You've probably heard about it. The daughter claims her old man liked to play hide the salami with her when she was little. Now she's hired herself a lawyer, and she's taking his ass to court, suing him for damages."
    "Good for her," Angie said, and hurried down the bar to bring Willy and Archie another pair of beers.
    "You got something against men?" Don Frost asked, when she came back past him.
    "Only ones who mess with their daughters," she replied.
    "You're not one of those feminists, are you?"
    "A what?"
    "Don't you ever listen to Rush Limbaugh?"
    "Who?"
    "That jerk on the radio. I don't listen to him either," Don Frost said, pushing his cup away "He makes me sick. Give me another."
    Angie poured herself a cup of coffee at the same time she made Don Frost's drink. "Let me give you some advice about when you take the driving part of your test," Frost said. "Signal for every thing. And keep checking the rearview mirror. They mark you off if you don't check that enough. Do you know the manual forward and backward?"
    Angie shook her head. "I should have spent more time studying over the weekend, but I was busy with the phone bank."
    "Fun bank?" a puzzled Archie McBride called from down the bar. Years of setting off dynamite blasts and loading ore cars underground had left Archie very hard of hearing. His twenty-six-year old hearing aid had finally given up the ghost and he refused to buy another.
    "How the hell does a fun bank work?" he demanded loudly. "And where do we sign up? Right, Willy?"
    The two old men collapsed against each other in gales of raucous laughter while Angie frowned and shook her head. "Phone bank," she repeated more loudly. "For Joanna Brady. For the election."
    "Oh," Archie said. "That's right. The election. Isn't that today? You voted yet?"
    Everyone in the room shook their heads. For the first time in her life, Angie Kellogg had actually wanted to vote. She had even found a candidate she wanted to vote for-but she had come to town too late to register for this election.
    The guy at the booth waved to her again. She went over to him, expecting him to order another drink. "Would it be possible to use the phone?" he asked.
    Angie Kellogg studied the man Don Frost had called Burton Kimball. She was gratified to realize her first impression had been right. The man really was a lawyer. At first glance, she had assumed he must be better than the lawyers she had known, the ones who had plied their trade by bailing whores out of jail, their retainers paid by pimps or drug dealers. But she had been wrong. If Burton Kimball was defending a child molester, a man who screwed his own daughter, then he was no better than the lawyers she had known before. In fact maybe he was worse.
    Local?" she asked.
    "Yes," he said.
    Bobo didn't generally allow customers to use the house phone. An Outgoing call could be made only from the phone in the back room. Angie's first instinct was to tell this pervert-loving bastard to take a hike and go make his precious phone call from a pay phone, preferably one in the middle of a busy street.
    But then another thought came to her. Hadn't Don Frost just told her that the attorney's big-deal trial was due in court the next day?  What would happen if the attorney for the defense was too damn hung over to hold his head up?  Keeping him out of court probably wasn't realistic, Angie decided, but she could maybe make him wish he'd stayed home. Even a novice bartender was capable of inflicting that much damage.
    "You can use the phone in the back room," she told him with a beguiling smile. "The number's on it in case someone needs to call you back. By the way, what's your name?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer. "I don't think I've seen you in here before."
    "Burton Kimball," he said, but he dropped his voice as though he really didn't relish the idea of other people hearing him.
    Angie held out her hand. "I'm Angie.