Falls the Shadow by William Lashner Read Free Book Online Page B

of her daughter. She was too sweet to have wanted him in prison forever for something he didn’t do.”
    She was right about one thing, at least, I didn’t know Leesa Dubé, didn’t know the first thing about her, and was wrong to imply a viciousness that might not have been there.
    “So if this is what Leesa would have wanted,” I said, “then for some reason you must believe he’s not guilty?”
    “I’m running late.”
    I leaned forward, examined her closely. “You really do, don’t you?”
    She snapped her bag closed, stood. “I have an appointment. Take the money, Mr. Carl. Do what you can for François.”
    “You know something.”
    “I need to go.”
    “Tell me what you know.”
    “I can’t, please, believe me. I simply can’t.”
    And it was there, just for a single precious moment, there, behind the mask, the swollen lips and frownless forehead, the perfect hair, the perfect skin, the blue contact lenses. There, behind the finest facade that money could buy, I saw something striking. It was the woman she had been, the woman who had gotten the tattoo and palled around with Leesa Dubé before falling into a morass of money that seemed to have swallowed her whole. This woman was wild, wildly ambitious, this woman was too smart by half for what she had become. And there, yes there, I could spy some terrible burden in her eyes. Was it sadness? Was it regret? Was it, perhaps, a crushing guilt that was tearing her apart?
    It would be interesting to find out, wouldn’t it?
    I reached over, took the envelope, riffled through the bills. “You understand, Mrs. Takahashi,” I said as I performed my quick count, “that this retainer covers only our motion. If we are successful, we’ll need another retainer to handle the trial.”
    “Then let’s hope we meet again.”
    “Yes,” I said. “Let’s hope.” Let’s hope indeedy. “My secretary will give you a receipt for the cash.”
    “I don’t need a receipt.”
    “Maybe you don’t, but I still need to give you one. We have a rule here, anyone who drops off a load of cash and isn’t given a receipt gets a free frozen yogurt his next visit.”
    I walked her out of my office, waited behind her while Ellie typed up a receipt, smelled her rich, sweet scent, felt myself swoon. See, even with all the lies she had told, even with all the enhancements to her beauty, I couldn’t help but breathe in her fragrance and feel my stomach flutter. Let me tell you true, the only thing more enticing than raw natural beauty is rampant, raging artificiality.
    Back in my office, I pulled the wad out of the envelope, fanned the bills just for the feel of it, and then performed a more careful count. I wasn’t beyond running down the street, calling out Oh, Mrs. Takahashi, Mrs. Takahashi if she was so much as a twenty short. But she wasn’t short. Ten thousand dollars. Not a bad way to start the day.
    I pulled a card out of my shirt pocket. My share would be enough to pay for a visit to the dentist, I figured, even without insurance. I could now afford to have Dr. Pfeffer, miracle worker, perform a miracle on my tooth. But wouldn’t you know it? My tooth was suddenly feeling so much better. Money has that way, doesn’t it, of easing your worldly pains? So maybe the ache was more existential than dental, maybe it had less to do with the condition of my tooth and more with the sad condition of my life. And the answer might be to dig into the past of the very wealthy Velma Takahashi instead of digging into my gums. I put the card away and put in a call to my detective, Phil Skink.
    It was getting interesting, this case I didn’t want, this futile motion on behalf of a defendant I disliked. First Whitney Robinson had grabbed hold of me at the end of our meeting and, whispering as if every word he said were being overheard, had begged me to leave this case be. For your own sake, he had said, whatever that meant. You can’t imagine the price , he had said, though he