Cold Case by Kate Wilhelm Read Free Book Online Page A

accessible. Simple as that.”
    â€œMaybe,” Frank said. “I’m going to his talk on Friday night. Want to come along?”
    She looked at him in surprise. “You really have taken to his writing, haven’t you?”
    He nodded. “Brilliant work. I want to hear him expound on it. If that’s what he does in these talks. I finished his book, and I recommend it highly. Friday night?”
    â€œCan’t,” she said. “I have a date with a couple of friends for dinner and then a movie, or maybe dancing.”
    She thought of the newscasts she had seen in the past weeks and said, “Dad, you realize that those demonstrations have gotten worse and worse? Near riots, in fact.”
    â€œI’ll wear armor,” he said.

    On Wednesday Barbara called David Etheridge and was sorry when he picked up. Crisply she said, “You have a limited leave of absence from the court order, beginning on Saturday. On Tuesday morning you are to check in personally to Judge Carlyle’s clerk no later than 10:00 a.m. It was the best I could do.”
    There was a prolonged silence, then he said, “Ms. Holloway, I’d like to stop by for a minute or two. Is there a time I could do that?”
    â€œOf course,” she said. “I’ll be in the office from three until five.”

    That afternoon, she braced herself when David Etheridge arrived.
    He had dressed up for the occasion, she thought. He had put on socks.
    Etheridge sat down and regarded her steadily. “I want to apologize. I was too infuriated to think clearly and I was rude. I’m sorry,” he said.
    He did not look or sound sorry, she thought, and simply nodded.
    â€œMonday evening I stopped to consider the implications of that court order,” he continued. “I have no legal training, but it seems to me that they intend to charge me with Robert’s murder, and quite possibly with Jill Storey’s murder, as well. They don’t have any evidence, but they want to keep me available while they search for some. Is that near the mark?”
    â€œPerhaps,” Barbara admitted.
    â€œI told Chloe McCrutchen that I’d be out of the apartment altogether Saturday morning. I’ll fly to San Francisco and come back Monday night in order to check in on Tuesday morning. And I’ll find a motel or hotel, possibly another apartment. I’ll let you know where it is, where I am. Is that satisfactory?”
    â€œIt is. But why let me know, Mr. Etheridge? Are you leaving out one of the steps here?”
    Suddenly he grinned. From stern as a hanging judge to a good-natured fun-loving guy in a flash. That was the transformation the grin made. “Yes,” he said. “The missing step. If I’m charged, will you be my defense attorney?”
    â€œIf it happens, putting a defense together requires a great deal of time and complete cooperation. Will you agree to that?” Barbara asked.
    â€œOf course. When I get back, I’m done with the seminars, no more public talks and finished with my part of the conference. I’ll have as much time as it takes. I said just a few minutes today, and I meant it. I’ll call on Tuesday.”

    Saturday morning Barbara was roused from sleep by her cell phone. The night before she had gone out for dinner with her two best friends, then to a movie, and afterward Janey had said, “Let’s go dancing!” They had done that, too. It had been a late night, and that morning the last thing she wanted to hear was a phone ringing.
    She groped for it on the nightstand and mumbled her name, then was jolted wide-awake by Frank’s voice, “Bobby, last night David Etheridge was attacked, savagely beaten. He’s in surgery, critical condition. He may not make it.”

6
    T hree hours after her morning call, Barbara drove to Frank’s house. She would have been better off staying in bed, she thought grumpily, for all the good she