Free Trial and Terror by ADAM L PENENBERG

weren’t already maggot food, he’d certainly be a suspect.”
    “They never positively identified his body because he blew up with his car. What if Strickland isn’t dead? What if he’s back?”
    Rosie laughed. “Why would he frame SK? Don’t forget the physical evidence. It’s pretty damning.”
    Levi idly fanned himself with one of the pictures. “Are you going to conduct an investigation? Because if you start poking around, looking for Strickland, then Raines will turn it around on you, claim SK mutilated Gundy’s body to divert suspicion from her. Plus, an investigation takes manpower; which, as you know, is in short supply around here. I would strongly advise you not to lift up this rock and see what’s crawling underneath. Your first murder case is no time to get fancy.”
    Summer dumped her coffee dregs. “If I don’t, then we both know SK doesn’t stand a chance.”
    Rosie stood up and readjusted her skirt. “Listen to Jon. He’s old, been around the block a few kajillion times.”
    “Thanks,” Levi said.
    “There’s more than enough work for you without you pretending to be some private dick,” Rosie continued.
    “Then I’d better get started,” Summer said.
    Rosie stood. “I can see I was a lot of help here. Summer, you are making one muy grande mistake if you start an investigation.”
    Summer turned off the coffee maker. “I’m trying to save this woman’s life.”
    “Whatever you say.” Rosie left. Summer could heard her through the sheetrock walls, rustling around her office.
    “What’s gotten into her?” Levi asked.
    “I don’t know.” Summer really didn’t.
    Levi shrugged. “Hormones.”
    “I heard that,” Rosie shouted through the wall.
    Summer laughed, the only light moment of the day. “Who’s the private detective on the case?” She picked up the photos and jammed them back into the file.
    Levi talked into his cup. “New guy. His name’s Tai Sanborn.”
    Rosie came flying out of her office as if she didn’t own footsteps. She filled Summer’s doorway again, breathing hard. “A cop?”
    “ Ex -cop,” Levi said. “On disability.”
    Summer flipped the file on her desk. “You’re trying him out on a murder case?”
    “I’m trying you out on a murder case,” Levi retorted, “and nobody’s complained.”
    “What happened to Rothstein, Jon?”
    “On maternity leave.”
    “How about Sam Nell?”
    “He quit. Got tired of too many hours for too little pay.”
    “But why Tai Sanborn?”
    “He’s the only P.I. around not pulling thirty-five cases,” Levi said. “He’s ex-homicide. Could be helpful.”
    “And?”
    “I had no choice. The 1990 Americans With Disabilities Act mandates we hire him. If I don’t assign him a case now, Raines promised me federal prosecutors would come a-calling.”
    Summer chucked the coffee filter into the trash. “He’s probably a D.A. plant. Even if he isn’t, you know how fat and lazy ex-cops are. They leak information to their buddies on the force and don’t do what they’re told. I never met an ex-cop who even knew the expression ‘innocent until proven guilty.’ And the last thing I need on this case is some guy faking a back injury so—”
    A man in patched, faded jeans, paisley shirt hanging out, had come up behind Rosie. He had crescent-shaped eyes, and dimples highlighted his smirk. He was too good-looking, too at ease, to have business here.
    “I’m looking for Summer Neuwirth,” he said.
    “You found her. And you are?”
    He grinned. “Tai Sanborn. The fat, lazy ex-cop with the fake back injury.”

 

Chapter 9

 
    Raines waited for Summer outside the calendar magistrate’s office. His suit was wrinkly—she was sure he had slept in it—and so was he. The undersides of his eyes were cupped by bruise-colored circles. The trial hadn’t started and already both of them were stressing.
    Raines spoke in hushed tones. “I have to inform you of a recent development in the Gundy