Injustice for All by J. A. Jance Read Free Book Online

mid-life crisis. How come?” “Mid-life crises are very trendy these days.” I responded with a congenial grin I hoped would derail the question. I didn’t want to go into that, to examine motives and lost illusions.
    “Will you still be a cop?”
    I shrugged. I couldn’t imagine being anything else. “Unless you have some other bright idea.”
    She looked at me seriously, squarely. “You’ve been hurt too.” “Does it show that much?”
    “It shows.”
    I winced at her direct hit and changed the subject. “You said something earlier that’s been bothering me: that you were working because you and Darrell needed the money. How come?”
    “We’re part of a syndicate that put together a downtown luxury high-rise project, just before the bottom dropped out of the real estate market. Most of our capital-ours, Homer’s, and Sig’s-has been tied up keeping the project afloat, waiting for the market to turn. Meantime, ready cash is in short supply.”
    “That’s why you and Sig ended up on the parole board?” She nodded. “Sig was actually well qualified. He knew it from the inside out without ever being either a prisoner or a guard. He did volunteer work at Walla Walla for years. He used to live near there, even started an A.A. group inside. He had every right to be on the board.
    I was the hanger-on.” Ginger looked at me earnestly. “I tried, though, Beau. Especially after Sig got me dried out. I read everything I could lay my hands on. I did a good job. The Lathrop case was an administrative nightmare.” She willed me to believe her. It was important to her that I not lay blame. “Those things happen,” I conceded.
    She accepted my remark as a form of absolution. “Thank you,” she murmured.
    “What will you do if you resign from the board?”
    She shrugged. “Something,” she replied. “Homer told me tonight he’ll see to it that I don’t get a penny.”
    “That’s just a threat. He can’t get away with it. You have an attorney. He’ll see that you get a fair shake.”
    She laughed. “You don’t understand. Homer Watkins’ name isn’t up in lights. He doesn’t make headlines, but he’s a mover and shaker in this state. Stone-cold broke, he can still pull enough strings to get anything he wants, including electing his son lieutenant governor. I’ll be lucky to get out of the house with the clothes on my back.”
    “I have an attorney,” I offered. “Maybe he could help.” I was thinking about Ralph Ames, who even then was preparing for a custody hearing to wrest my partner’s two kids out of a religious cult in Broken Springs, Oregon.
    Ginger smiled, condescendingly. “How far do you think I’d get paying for an attorney on my own? It takes money to fight the system. I won’t have any.”
    “Ames would do it if I asked him. He’s from Arizona. Phoenix. He handles all my personal affairs. Let him take a look at your situation. It wouldn’t cost you anything.”
    A smile flickered around the comer of her mouth. “Beau, listen to me. These are big-time lawyers with big-time staffs. They’d chew up your little guy and spit him out. But thanks. It’s kind of you to offer.” “Promise me you’ll let Ames look it over first.
    Talk about the best there is, Ames is it.”
    Ginger laughed aloud. “All right, all right. If you insist, but he’d better not show up wearing cowboy boots and riding a horse. “
     

Chapter 7
    I SPENT some time looking for a delicate way to suggest we get ready for bed. There was no easy way. I finally said it straight out. Ginger retreated into the bathroom to change while I grappled with the Chinese-puzzle roll-away bed. Partial assembly required. The bed was unfolded and sitting in front of the outside door when Ginger emerged from the bathroom.
    She wore a jade-colored silk robe with a hint of filmy nightgown underneath. Seeing her, I realized I didn’t have a pair of-pajamas to my name. I’d been a bachelor so long, my last pair of