Free Expert Witness by Rebecca Forster Page A

business sense; he saw an opportunity and he took it.”
    Archer couldn’t help but wonder if the man of God would be pleased to know that the most momentous event in his life was tied up neatly in one paragraph by this shrink. But Daniel wasn’t finished. He broadened his horizons, covering all of mankind as he spread his intellectual plumage.
    “Human beings are fascinating creatures,” he went on, seemingly enamored with the sound of his own odd voice. “I am amazed at the longevity of Isaiah’s celebrity. What is it that pushes some people into the spotlight when they really don’t deserve it? Why do they capture the imagination of the masses when other voices are passed over?” Daniel heaved a sigh and offered Archer his beautiful smile. “But I suppose the mighty have fallen. Someone doesn’t think very highly of him.”
    “I don’t get your meaning,” Archer said.
    “Look at your list.” Young gestured with one finger.
    Archer raised the evidence envelope and looked again. Isaiah Wilson’s name was in the second column, third down.  Beside the preacher’s name was the picture of a clown. Young turned around. When he faced Archer again he had a book in his hand. He put it on the desk.
    “New York Times. Fifty-two weeks at number one.”
    Archer wasn’t one for self-examination, self-help or self-recrimination so the book didn’t look familiar, but he was curious about this turn of events. Here was a celebrity and one with an agenda that might include Josie. Archer tilted the book, taking a moment to consider the title: AN EYE FOR AN EYE. He opened the cover. Copyright was eight years earlier. He was lowering the book, ready to ask his next question, when Daniel Young reached out and cupped his hand underneath his own. Archer’s eyes snapped up. His first thought was that Daniel Young’s hands were rough; his second was that the guy had crossed the line. Archer started to pull his hand away, but Daniel Young clamped down and held tight. His gaze never wavered and behind his eyes Archer saw that the tables had turned. Daniel Young was in control.
    “I understand the pain you’re in, Archer,” he said quietly.
    The book slammed back on the table as Archer stood up.
    “Yeah,” he said tightly. “You’ve got my card. Call me if you have any real information.”
    With that, Archer turned on his heel and took off.
    Damn shrink.
     
     

CHAPTER TEN :
    An Outbuilding in the California Mountains
     
    “Hey, wake up! Hey! Come on! Wake up! Wake up!”
    Josie’s teeth stuck to her lips so the word ‘wake’ sounded like ‘walk’. She worked her throat and brought up some saliva, just not enough to make a difference. She rolled, tipped the water bottle to her lips and clamped down on the nozzle with her teeth. She threw her head back. The bottle rose, the water cascaded down the plastic, through the nipple and into her mouth. She swallowed.
    She closed off her throat and held the next gulp in her mouth. It was hard to swallow given how she was tied.  Josie was thinking she would have to pace herself when suddenly she lost control of the precariously balanced bottle. It dropped out of her mouth, fell to the ground and spun away. Josie thought she heard a crack but it was hard to tell. The rabbit hole was opening again, and she sure as hell was getting tired of falling through it. To fight it, she’d focus on something else. Josie pulled her feet up and kicked the woman behind her. She kicked and kicked and kicked.
    “Talk to me,” she demanded, and then she slept again.
     
    The Strand, Hermosa Beach
     
    Hannah stormed down the Strand. She went past the five thousand square foot mansion that squatted like a Sumo wrestler next to a tiny box of a place that had been built before Hermosa Beach was prime property.  Hannah fumed as she went by three men sitting on a patio drinking beer. They were dressed in shorts and well-loved logo t-shirts that reminded them of happy days spent in crappy bars.