Dark Justice by William Bernhardt Read Free Book Online Page A

needs you. If you don’t help, he’s going to end up railroaded, spending the rest of his life in prison. Or worse.”
    Ben didn’t answer. She was staring at him, waiting for a response that wasn’t coming.
    “Please, Ben. I don’t mean to pressure you, but I think you could be the best thing that happened to the environmental movement since Rachel Carson. You could make all the difference.”
    Her words had an unmistakable appeal. As his assistant Christina McCall had pointed out on any number of occasions, he was a total sucker for an underdog. He had certainly represented unpopular clients in the past; in fact, he considered it an attorney’s duty to do so. But this was different. This wasn’t simply a difference in opinion or belief. These people were terrorists .
    “I’m sorry,” Ben said. “I hear what you’re saying. But I can’t do it.”
    Maureen’s face fell. She eased away from the bars, back into her own cell. She said nothing, but her disappointment was evident.
    “Don’t worry about it,” Rick said. “You’ll be a lot more comfortable back in the safety of your La-Z-Boy recliner.”
    Ben bit back his response. Rick wasn’t being fair, but of course, there was no reason why he should be. Maureen had played fair, and look what it got her.
    Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
    Ben stretched out on his cot. He knew he was making the right decision. He was almost proud of himself. For once he wasn’t running off on whatever half-baked quest fell into his lap.
    But he couldn’t quash the tiny voice in the pit of his brain that kept saying that maybe, just maybe, he was making a mistake. The tiny voice of doubt.
    And guilt.
    You have a unique opportunity here, Maureen had said. You could make all the difference.
    Ben rolled over, buried his face in the pillow, and closed his eyes. But he felt certain he wasn’t going to get any sleep.

Chapter 5
    T ESS O’CONNELL RUSHED BACK to her hotel room and slammed the door shut behind her. With lightning speed, she turned the deadbolt, slid in the chain lock, and pulled a dresser in front of the door.
    She wasn’t taking any chances.
    This was the first time she had ventured out of her hotel room since the night of the murder. When she looked back on it now, the whole episode seemed like one extended nightmare—far too chilling and extraordinary to be real.
    Except it was. She knew it was. Every time she closed her eyes, it came back to her, insistent and unbidden. Like a nightmare.
    She still wasn’t sure how she managed to elude that monster who had chased her away from the scene of the explosion. He had to have known the forest better than she did. All she did was run, not stopping, not checking directions, just running. Maybe he hurt himself, maybe he had to stop to do something. She didn’t know. All she knew for sure was that somehow, against all odds, she had managed to give Sasquatch the slip.
    Whoever he was. Behind the mask.
    When she finally made it back to her hotel, she had locked the doors, crawled under the covers, and holed up for days. She hadn’t even let the maids in to clean. She made room service leave trays outside her door. She was that scared. She didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t want anyone to come near her. Her boss at the Whisper kept phoning, leaving messages, but she didn’t return the calls.
    It was almost a week before she regained some semblance of the patented O’Connell chutzpah, before she felt she might be able to venture into the hallway without meeting Sasquatch at the first corner. Slowly, as the days passed, her terror began to fade, replaced by something altogether different.
    The scent of a story.
    For once in her life, Tess had the inside track on something big, maybe even bigger than anyone realized. She had seen what no one else had seen; she knew what no one else knew. What’s more, she had evidence.
    The videotape.
    Unfortunately, when she replayed the tape in the camera it was too dark to make out,