Free Midnight Run by Linda Castillo

bifocals.
    “All of your clients are innocent.”
    “Just as all of your defendants are guilty?”
    “Innocent until proven guilty,” she corrected. “I’m sure I don’t need to inform you that Jack LaCroix was found guilty in a court of law.”
    “Unjustly, I’m afraid. Where is he?”
    “Upstairs in the guest—”
    “I’m right here.” Jack’s baritone voice cut through the air like a lance.
    Landis and Chandler turned simultaneously to see Jack moving gingerly down the stairs.
    After only an hour of sleep, the improvement in his appearance amazed her. He was still pale, but the sharpness had returned to his eyes. He watched them with the caution of an animal that knew it was being stalked. On reaching the foot of the stairs, he walked toward them.
    Landis couldn’t take her eyes off him as he approached. His very presence seemed to suck all the oxygen from her lungs. Six feet, four inches of lean muscle, bad attitude and one of the most complex personalities she’d ever encountered. He’d put on his clean prison issue trousers and shirt, and she was keenly aware of the way the fabric lay over hard-as-rock muscle.
    Chandler extended his hand when Jack reached them. “You’re the last person I expected to do something so incredibly stupid.”
    Grimacing, Jack accepted the handshake. “You’re the last lawyer I expected to lose my case.”
    “We won’t lose the appeal.”
    “No offense, but I didn’t want to stick around to find out.”
    Landis watched the exchange, telling herself she was doing the right thing. She couldn’t harbor a fugitive. Jack was better off with his lawyer. Maybe Chandler could talk him into giving himself up.
    “Your lack of patience has landed you in a heap of trouble this time,” Chandler said. “You made the evening news.”
    “Lead story?” Jack asked.
    Chandler shook his slicked-back head. “They gave the lead story to a big warehouse fire in Provo.”
    “Can’t say I’m disappointed.”
    “Possibly armed and very dangerous—or so they said. A witness claims to have seen you with Elvis on board the Burlington Northern near Brigham City.”
    One side of Jack’s mouth quirked. “Hell of a guy, that Elvis.”
    Annoyance rippled through her that the two men could be so casual about such a grave situation. “Elvis sightings aside, gentlemen, I think you should be using your collective brain power to figure out how you’re going to rectify the situation.” She looked at Jack. “We know the only smart thing for Mr. LaCroix to do is give yourself up.”
    Jack met her gaze unflinchingly, his eyes dark and indecipherable as he studied her. “I didn’t risk my life breaking out of prison just to give myself up, Ms. McAllister.” He used the formal title with a hefty dose of sarcasm. “I plan to use what little time I have as a free man to prove I didn’t kill my partner. Then I’m going to nail the bastard who framed me.” He looked at Chandler. “I need a car, some clothes and some money.”
    The attorney snorted. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the term aiding and abetting. Does the word disbarment mean anything to you?”
    Landis’s heart rate sped up. She couldn’t imagine Chandler agreeing to aid and abet a convicted murderer—even if it was his own client. “You can’t operate outside the law, Jack,” she said. “Every law enforcement agency from here to the Canadian border is looking for you.”
    Jack raked a hand through his hair, wincing with the sudden movement and cutting loose with a curse.
    “He’s been shot,” Landis explained.
    Shock flashed across Chandler’s face. “ Shot? My God, man, you need to see a doc—”
    “What I need is some bloody cooperation!” Jack shouted.
    Shaking his head, the attorney studied him. “You look dead on your feet. You can’t afford to jeopardize your health on a wild-goose chase that will do nothing but earn you another ten years in prison.”
    Jack scowled. “For the record, Chandler, my