Free Running from the Law by Lisa Scottoline

than a petulant teenager. “Okay, I’m dieting.”
    He rocked back in his chair and stared at the ceiling lights, discreetly recessed. After a minute he said, “You’re being stubborn about this and I’m entitled to know why.”
    “No, you’re not.”
    “Look, this isn’t a game. This is serious.”
    “Games are serious, Mack. You know that.” Mack played big-time blackjack in Atlantic City and Vegas, to stay in shape for managing my law firm.
    “Rita, this is a terrible decision you’re making. The judge is your client, he needs you now. You’re a terrific lawyer, a creative lawyer. That result last week at City Hall—”
    “Oh, are you kissing my ass now? Because I like it a little to the left.”
    A buzzer sounded on the phone and Mack snatched up the receiver. “What? Send him in.” The receiver clattered to the hook and he eased back again. “I called in reinforcements.”
    “Who?”
    The door opened and in came a gray Armani suit, a silk paisley tie that ended in a knifepoint, and blue-black hair pulled back into a short ponytail, of all things. It was Jake Tobin, firm womanizer. His dark eyes looked faintly amused.
    “You know Jake, don’t you?” Mack said.
    “Only by reputation.”
    “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Tobin said with an easy laugh, then closed the door behind him.
    Mack said, “I asked Jake to join us because he’s done extensive criminal work. He was a public defender before he joined us. Right, Jake?”
    “For fifteen years,” Tobin said. He leaned against the credenza and glanced enviously at the PowerBook. I was guessing he knew how to use it.
    Mack said, “Jake, I was just telling Rita here that you’ve tried a lot of murder cases.”
    “About fifty jury trials, give or take some major scum. Most of them got out of jail free.”
    A career to be proud of. “I’m impressed. You want to represent Judge Hamilton? I hear he needs somebody like you.”
    Mack shook his head. “No, Rita. Wrong. My idea was that Jake could backstop you on the case. Judge Hamilton told me it’s you or he goes to Goldberg’s firm.”
    Tobin nodded. “Now I’m impressed.”
    “Don’t be, I quit,” I said.
    Mack sighed. “Rita, I’ve had reporters calling from the American Lawyer and the National Law Journal. Joanne told me there were almost forty calls yesterday. And that plaintiffs lawyer, Julicher, he’s all over the news.”
    “Julicher?” Tobin asked. “I never heard of him.”
    “I had his bio checked, wait a minute.” Mack thumbed through a neat stack of papers to the side of his desk, pulled a sheet out, and skimmed it. “He’s from New York, but not from any of the top-tier firms. A nobody. Graduated from a state university, then Fordham Law School, Class of ‘77, blah, blah, blah, blah. He’s a slip-and-fall guy, does workmen’s comp cases. A scrapper, a nothing , and he’s on the tube all night last night.”
    “He’s hustling referral business, Mack.”
    “Is he a good lawyer?” Tobin asked, looking at me.
    “He’s no scholar, but he’s a fighter. If he still had a harassment case, he would’ve given me a run for my money.”
    Mack tossed the bio aside and stood up. “But it’s a murder case now, it’s getting everybody’s attention. Everybody’s watching. If you withdraw now, they’ll all know about it. It’ll make Judge Hamilton look guilty.”
    What if he is? “No, it won’t.”
    “Well, I, for one, won’t hang a federal judge out to dry. The networks are all over the story, so are the newspapers. Rita, we go back a long time. I’m asking you as a personal favor to keep the case.”
    “Why?”
    “For the publicity, dopey,” Tobin said.
    I looked at Mack for confirmation, and his smile was already broadening. “I told you, I had forty calls yesterday. Forty—count ’em— forty . One was from Good Morning America . Federal judge kills secretary? We’re talking national exposure here!”
    “ Allegedly kills secretary,” Tobin