Free Best Defense by Randy Rawls Page A

I was there to help John Hammonds. I followed Sargent, then abandoned his trail to head toward Hammonds’ office.
    Stopping in the doorway, I didn’t see him. “Mr. Hammonds?” I said. “Are you in here?”
    It seemed a stupid question because I could see the entire office—a conversation niche surrounding a coffee table, and his desk with his chair behind it, facing away from me. Of course, the chair back was tall enough and wide enough to hide a man twice his size. I waited a respectable amount of time, then stepped into the room. “Mr. Hammonds? Would you prefer I come back later?”
    If he was in the room, he had to be in the chair. If he wasn’t, I could only hope Sargent wasn’t listening. If so, for the rest of my life—well, his part of it—he’d harass me that I talked to myself.
    The chair swiveled.
    â€œMs. Bowman. Sorry. Guess I was wool gathering.”
    The chair continued its trip, and Hammonds came into full front view. He had shaved and changed clothes since I last saw him, but it hadn’t improved his appearance. His face was vapid, and, if possible, he looked worse than the night before. His eyes were roadmaps to nowhere, all small secondary roads in red.
    â€œEver think about that old saying?” he said, his expression showing a bit of life. “Wool gathering. They say all colloquialisms have a foundation in fact, but I can’t for the life of me figure that one out. I just can’t find a connection between daydreaming and sheep shearing, or wherever the term originated.” He lapsed into silence, and his face went blank again.
    â€œIf this is a bad time, I can come back this afternoon. Would that be better?”
    â€œNo, I’m glad you’re here. Did you accomplish what you set out to do?”
    In the hours I’d been gone, Hammonds had aged years. The skin on his face sagged, and the bags under his eyes were big enough to cost him dearly if he checked them on an airplane.
    I walked to the desk, reached across, and touched his arm. “I did as much as I could. We’ll see if it pays off today. How are things here?”
    Hammonds glanced toward the living room and let out a heavy sigh before letting his head drop. “Every chance he gets, that cop tells me I’m making a mistake by trusting my daughter to you. I’m tired of hearing it. I told him to give it a rest, but he doesn’t.”
    I stood across from one of the most successful lawyers in South Florida, but no one would have ever known it. His whole demeanor was one of defeat. I had to add another layer.
    I lifted his chin. “John, he may be right. They have a lot more resources than I do. I’m just one person. Perhaps you should—”
    â€œI know that, Beth,” he flared. “But I’ve handled enough criminal cases to know amateurs panic at the first sign of the cops. From what I’ve seen, these people are not pros. A pro would never have committed murder to set up a kidnapping. Murder is a capital offense in Florida, kidnapping is jail time. Now they know if they’re caught, they stand a good chance of getting a death sentence. That means we have to approach them easy.”
    He stared at me. “Don’t you know that having cops near a drop site or setting up some kind of sting is the best way I know to ensure Ashley—” He choked and didn’t finish.
    â€œI agree, John, but they have the assets. I only have me and a few friends.”
    â€œYeah, but whatever they have, they’ll share with you. Like I said before, if they get cute, I’ll have the governor down here. I’ll cash every IOU I’ve ever accepted to get Ashley back—and I don’t give a damn whose feelings get bruised.”
    I backed away and took a visitor’s chair. “So what’s been happening here?”
    â€œQuiet. Too darn quiet. Why don’t they make contact?” He rested his