Free Devil's Deception by Doreen Owens Malek

announced.
    “It’s quarter to one in the morning,” Devlin said, amazed.
    “The law library is open all night,” Angela stated, “and I just realized that I missed an entire issue in the presentation I’m giving tomorrow. I have to research it or I’m going to get blown out of the water. I’m sorry about this but it’s necessary. I guess you’ll have to go with me.” Her words were apologetic but her tone was neutral.
    “I guess so,” Devlin answered. He stood obediently.
    “Do you think I should call for the car?” Angela asked. “Taxis aren’t too reliable this time of night.”
    He shrugged. “Whatever you say.”
    Devlin changed his mind when he saw the car. A Lincoln stretch limo, it made him feel as if he were an Oscar nominee arriving at the Awards ceremony. Patria had some setup, with this kind of transportation available twenty-four hours a day. And his niece took it for granted too.
    He was astonished to see how many people were at the law school. These kids really burned the midnight oil. Angela dismissed the driver and Devlin followed her to the library, where she dropped her purse and notebook on a table not far from the one she’d occupied on the first day he’d seen her.
    “I have to get the books together and it will take a while. There are newspapers and magazines in the lobby if you want something to read.”
    Devlin watched as she wandered through the stacks, consulting a list she had in her hand, and assembled a stack of volumes indexed like an encyclopedia. Finally she sank into the chair across from him with a sigh and began to read.
    Silence reigned for about forty minutes. He noticed that she was methodically consulting each book, making notes, and then moving on to the next one. It was obviously a time consuming and tedious process.
    “Can I help you?” Devlin asked at last.
    She glanced up briefly. “That’s not necessary,” she replied stiffly.
    “I know that. I’d like to help you.”
    “I don’t think that’s possible.” She looked down again to write.
    “Why not? I can read.”
    “It’s very dull stuff.”
    “It can’t be any worse than”—he consulted the title of the newspaper he’d found on the table and had been reading—“ The Litigator’s Quarterly .” Devlin held up another paper. “Unless it’s Volume fourteen, Number four of Lex Brevis , also a fascinating piece of journalism.”
    Angela grinned. Lex Brevis was the student newspaper and featured a lot of articles about things like moot court competitions and taxation conferences. It was better than an overdose of sleeping pills for inducing an instant coma.
    “All right,” she agreed. “You can help me by reading the headnotes in these reporters and selecting the ones that deal with the issue I have under examination.”
    Devlin blinked. “Would you give me that in English, please?”
    Angela showed him how to skim the opening paragraphs of each reported court decision and determine if it would be helpful. For someone who didn’t understand a word of what he was reading, Devlin proved to be very adept at isolating the sections that would be worth further study and eliminating the rest. They worked together, talking little, until Angela sat back with a satisfied sigh.
    “Okay. I have enough to go on. All I have to do now is put it together into some sort of outline, and I can do that in an hour or so. Do you want to take a break? There’s a lounge that’s open downstairs with vending machines, and we can get some coffee.”
    Devlin nodded, getting up to pull out Angela’s chair. “Lead the way. Walk slowly though, my left foot’s asleep.”
    He limped at Angela’s side, pausing for a moment to shake out his leg. Angela watched his bent head, the way he frowned at his foot as if scolding it for failing him, and knew again that she was hopelessly in love with him.
    He glanced up and caught her eye. “Something wrong?” he asked, raising his brows.
    Angela shook her head. “It’s