top recorded speed of a cheetah, but not tonight. “Rafe, please.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t supposed to ask questions, was I? Criminal lawyer, you said. I know the prosecuting attorney. Does that help?”
“Wrong side.”
“Gotcha. Well.”
I could almost see him scratching his head.
“I could make some calls for you, but it’s three in the morning, Minnie. Do you really need a lawyer right now?”
“It’s not for me.” Despair was starting to lap at my toes. “Thanks, anyway. Talk to you later, okay?”
We hung up and I went back to scrolling through names. Why didn’t I have any friends who got into trouble?
“Mrr.” Eddie jumped up onto the dining table and butted the phone.
“Not now, pal.” I gently elbowed him out of the way. “I need to find an attorney for Cade. There’s no way he did what they’re saying he did. I’m sure it’s all a mix-up. I mean, how could Russell McCade do… do that? But he’ll still need a good lawyer to get him out of this mess.”
“Ah, Minnie?”
I went still. Gunnar Olson. What was he doing up at this hour, and even more so, what was he doing talking to me? I looked up. The big man was standing on the dock between our boats and holding a smoldering cigar.
“Uh, hello,” I said. Every window in my houseboat was open and Gunnar and I were maybe ten feet apart. One of the hazards of marina life was that if you weren’t careful, everyone heard everything.
Gunnar held the cigar to his lips and inhaled, making the dark orange coal burn bright. “You’re looking for a criminal attorney, I heard.”
For a second I couldn’t breathe. “I am. Yes.”
“And not for you.”
“No.”
He held out the cigar and studied its glowing end. “For Russell McCade. Also known as Cade.”
I could see where this was going and I didn’t like it one single bit. “Cade is completely innocent. I’m sure of it. It’s just a mix-up and if you breathe one word of this to anyone I’ll find an attorney of my own and see that you’re sued for slander and—”
“Hold on, missy, just hold on. I know you don’t like me and the feeling is mutual, but I’m a big fan of Cade’s work.”
“You… are?” I gave Eddie an absentminded pat, picked up my purse, and went out to the dock.
“First original art I ever bought was one of his early moonrises and it has appreciated in value ten times over.”
Now, that figured. Gunnar’s worldview was dollars and cents and—
“But I’d never sell it,” he said. “Not if it was my last possession on earth. I love that painting. Makes me feel young again. And I’d be honored to provide a little help to the man who painted it.”
I rearranged my open mouth to the shut position. “Right now he needs an experienced criminal lawyer.”
“Here.” He reached into his pocket for his cell phone. “You’re going to be talking to Daniel Markakis. He works in the Detroit area, but he’s got a summer place up here. I golfed with him yesterday, so I knowhe’s around.” He stabbed at the phone’s screen a few times and handed it over.
“I can call him at this time of night?” I asked.
Gunnar glanced at me. “He’s used to it. Tell him I gave you his number. Just leave the phone on the dock. I’ll get it later.” He turned to go, then stopped. “And don’t worry. I won’t say anything about this. McCade’s got a right to privacy, same as anybody else.”
“Hey, Gunnar?” I called softly. “Thanks.”
He gave a shrugging nod and waved, the cigar sketching a wide orange arc in the darkness, and headed down the dock to his boat.
I watched my cranky neighbor walk away. Truly, every human being was a mystery and we should never assume we know anything about anyone.
Then I turned my attention to the phone. “Mr. Markakis? I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, but Gunnar Olson lent me his phone and…”
• • •
When I opened the door to the small waiting room, Barb didn’t even glance up but