The Heavens May Fall by Allen Eskens Page A

get through this.”
    “You know I don’t practice law anymore. Except for moot court and my practicum classes, I haven’t been in a courtroom in six years.”
    “You kept your license, didn’t you?”
    “Yes, but—”
    “Boady, you’re the best attorney I’ve ever seen—myself excluded, of course.” Ben gave Boady a slight forced smile. “And more important than that, I trust you.”
    “But I’m not a defense attorney any longer. I don’t do that . . . and you know why.”
    “Boady, you knew Jennavieve. You know me. You and Diana have been to our house. You ate at our table. For God’s sake, you were at the hospital when Emma was born. I’m not asking you to get me out of a DWI here. I’m terrified that Max Rupert is coming after me. He’s going to ignore any other evidence and dig up anything he can to point this at me. He hates me. He’s the one who pulled the strings that led to my reprimand. I need you. I need someone who can help me find the truth, even if Rupert isn’t looking for it.”
    “You know Max and I are friends, right?”
    “I know, but I also know that there’s no one better than you in a courtroom. There’s no one better than you at digging the truth out of a mess of lies. I’ve seen you do it. Who knows, they might not even charge me. They might find whoever did this and Rupert can go fuck himself. But if Rupert doesn’t find the real killer, you know he’ll come after me. I’m convenient. I’m the obvious target. I’m the husband. You know how this works.”
    “I have to teach this fall. I can’t do both.”
    “Can you take a sabbatical? I have your retainer right here.” Ben reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a check and handed it to Boady.
    Boady read the number: $200,000. “Jesus, Ben, that’s way too much.”
    “If this case goes to trial, that amount won’t cover it. We both know that. If they don’t charge me, you can give me back what you want. But I’ll demand that you keep at least what you would have made as a law professor for the semester. If I get charged, I’m going to trial, fast and hard. I want you to have the time you’ll need to prepare. There’ll be no plea bargains. It’s either conviction or acquittal. I didn’t kill Jennavieve. I’m not pleading guilty to anything, no matter how much they reduce the charge. There’ll be no face-saving plea bargain. I need you to understand that, Boady. I’d rather go to prison a wrongfully convicted man than to say a single word that even hints that I had anything to do with Jennavieve’s death. Emma has to know that I didn’t kill her mother.”
    “I can’t make a decision like this without talking to Diana.”
    “Absolutely. I wouldn’t want you to. Talk to her and get back to me.”
    Ben stood and held out a hand. Boady took it and pulled Ben in to embrace him. When they parted, Ben’s eyes were once again full of tears. He turned to make his way down the steps and back to his car but stopped after taking only a few steps.
    “I have to go pick up Emma,” he said, looking over his shoulder at Boady. “How do you tell a little girl that her world has fallen in?”
    Boady wanted to say something helpful, but he could find no words. He simply shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, and watched his friend walk away.

Chapter 13
    The Pruitt house looked smaller the second time Max Rupert pulled up to it. Maybe it was the bright-yellow tape stretched around it, marking it with a police-department stamp of ownership. Maybe it was the familiarity of the squad cars and the crime-scene vehicles and the smooth, mechanized efficiency of the lab techs bent to their tasks like the cobbler’s elves. Or maybe it was the evolving thought of Ben Pruitt, not as the high-powered master of the house, but as prey to be tracked and cornered. Whatever the reason, Max approached the house with an odd sense of comfort.
    He paused at the opened door. Inside, Niki sat on the staircase, her knees pulled