Unfit to Practice by Perri O'Shaughnessy Read Free Book Online Page B

Nikki didn't have a license to drive last time Nina heard. Neither did Bob.
    The key! The white plastic key still sat in her wallet. But—
    A lost vehicle isn't like a lost dog. You can't run around the neighborhood calling for it. Some jerk had stolen her truck right out of her own driveway. Nina went back inside and got Bob, who came out to stare in disbelief at the spot where the Bronco usually sat. Then she called the South Lake Tahoe Police Department and her office. Then she remembered the files.
    Her heart fell to her shoes. She had definitely locked the truck, she remembered what a hassle it was with that stupid plastic key. . . .
    She counted the files in her mind. Three: the Cruz custody battle, the Vangs and their insurance claim, and—oh no, the new one, the campground-murder case, with the sisters, Brandy and Angel.
    Confidential files. Her most sensitive cases, the ones with information no one should see, stuffed inside her briefcase on the floor of the backseat of the Bronco.
    Out there somewhere, in someone's sweaty, thieving paws.

3
    W AITING ON THE DRIVEWAY for the police, Nina walked up and down rubbing her neck, and when that didn't take the rigidity out of it, she rotated it a few times. She had made the mistake that everybody makes once in ten thousand events. Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine correct decisions, one mistake, and with any luck at all, you don't get called on the mistake. You leave something important in the car, smack your forehead in the morning when you realize it, run outside, and find all is well.
    Across the street, her neighbor climbed up a steep ladder to his roof and fiddled with green shingles.
    He could fall, she thought. He could die. Every day presented new opportunities for catastrophe.
    She decided not to wave at him.
    A mud-spattered patrol car pulled up in front. Gleaming pines and firs dripped all around, but the asphalt steamed in the morning sun, rapidly drying. Bob, ready to take the bus, ran up behind her begging for money, lunchless because she had been hunting for the extra copy of the Bronco registration and the title. She shoved several crumpled dollars she had in a pocket toward him, leaning out for a kiss on the cheek as he passed.
    “Good luck, Mom,” he said, running down the street to the stop where his school bus was already loading.
    Two officers, a man and a woman looking like carpenters with all the tools hanging from their belts, hauled themselves out of the car, leaving the police radio on loud to make sure all the neighbors would know there was trouble at the Reilly house. “Counselor. How you doing,” said the tall woman.
    “Officer Scholl. Thanks for coming.” Great, Nina thought. Of course they would send Jean Scholl. She didn't feel thankful, she felt annoyed at her rotten luck, but she had no choice but to accept the help on offer.
    Scholl stared at her for a minute, tightened her lips, then looked away. She didn't offer to shake and neither did Nina. Her gray eyes raked the empty driveway, looking for traces, suddenly all business.
    “Good morning,” Dave Matthias said, introducing himself. Newer in the department, he was narrow-jawed and short on hair.
    A major drawback of doing criminal-defense work in a small town was that sometimes Nina had to try to discredit the work and the motives of local cops for the sake of her clients. Some cops lied and some were biased. Whatever the negative attitude, they didn't appreciate being called on it in court. Scholl's outburst on Thursday showed that. The best Nina hoped for from these two would be wary reserve, so she was pleasantly surprised when they listened intently and worked the information like pros. To her relief, Scholl had apparently decided to put their differences aside for the time being and do her job.
    Nina spent an hour with them, retracing her trip home the night before, where exactly she had parked, handing over copies of the truck papers, which she had made on the home