Let Me Call You Sweetheart by Mary Higgins Clark Read Free Book Online Page B

Your name will be buried in a pile on Governor Marshall's desk, and I'll be quietly asked to submit another candidate for the vacancy." He paused, then took Kerry's hand. "Give this lots of thought before you do anything. I know you'll make the right decision."
Promptly at six-thirty that evening the chiming of the doorbell sent Robin racing to greet Geoff Dorso. Kerry had told her he was coming and that they would be going over a case for half an hour or so. Robin had decided to eat early and promised to finish her homework in her room while Kerry was busy. In exchange she was getting an unaccustomed weeknight hour of television.
She inspected Dorso with benevolence and ushered him into the family room. "My mother will be right down," she announced. "I'm Robin."
"I'm Geoff Dorso. How does the other guy look?" Geoff asked. With a smile he indicated the still-vivid marks on her face.
Robin grinned. "I flattened him. Actually it was a fender bender with some flying glass."
"It looks as though it's healing fine."
"Dr. Smith, the plastic surgeon, says it is. Mom says you know him. I think he's creepy."
"Robin!" Kerry had just come downstairs.
"From the mouths of babes," Dorso said, smiling. "Kerry, it's good to see you."
"It's good to see you, Geoff." I hope I mean it, Kerry thought as her gaze fell on the bulging briefcase under Dorso's arm. "Robin..."
"I know. Homework," Robin agreed cheerfully. "I'm not the neatest person in the world," she explained to Dorso. "My last report card had 'improvement needed' checked above 'home assignments.'"
"Also, 'uses time well' had a check above it," Kerry reminded her.
"That's because when I finish an assignment in school, I forget sometimes and start to talk to one of my friends. Okay." With a wave of her hand, Robin headed for the staircase.
Geoff Dorso smiled after her. "Nice kid, Kerry, and she's a knockout. In another five or six years you'll have to barricade the door."
"A scary prospect. Geoff, coffee, a drink, a glass of wine?"
"No, thanks. I promised not to take too much of your time." He laid his briefcase on the coffee table. "Do you want to go over this in here?"
"Sure." She sat next to him on the couch as he took out two thick volumes of bound paper. "The trial transcript," he said, "one thousand pages of it. If you really want to understand what went on, I would suggest you read it carefully. Frankly, from start to finish, I'm ashamed of the defense we mounted. I know Skip had to take the stand, but he wasn't properly prepared. The state's witnesses weren't vigorously questioned. And we only called two character witnesses for Skip when we should have called twenty."
"Why was it handled that way?" Kerry asked.
"I was the most junior counsel, having just been hired by Farrell and Strauss. Farrell had been a good defense lawyer once upon a time, no doubt about that. But when Skip Reardon hired him, he was well past his prime and pretty much burned out. He just wasn't interested in another murder case. I really think Skip would have been better off with a much less experienced attorney who had some fire in his gut."
"Couldn't you have filled the gap?"
"No, not really. I was just out of law school and didn't have much to say about anything. I had very little participation in the trial at all. I was basically a gofer for Farrell. As inexperienced as I was, though, it was obvious to me that the trial was handled badly."
"And Frank Green tore him apart on cross-examination."
"As you read, he got Skip to admit that he and Suzanne had quarreled that morning, that he'd spoken to his accountant to find out what a divorce would cost, that he'd gone back to the house at six and again quarreled with Suzanne. The coroner estimated time of death to be between six and eight o'clock, so Skip could, by his own testimony, be placed at the scene of the crime at the possible time of the murder."
"From the account I read, Skip Reardon claimed he went back to his office, had a couple of drinks and fell