Trial by Fury (9780061754715) by Judith A. Jance Page A

too.”
    Peters hesitated. “What would she have to gain, insurance maybe?”
    â€œIt wouldn’t be the first time,” I replied.
    â€œI’ve never dealt with a pregnant murder suspect before. The very idea runs against the grain.”
    â€œMurder’s against the grain,” I reminded him. “Pregnancy’s no more a legal defense for murder than Twinkies are.”
    Peters hung up then, but I could tell it still bothered him. To tell the truth, it bothered me. Joanna Ridley bothered me. I recalled her house, the way she had looked when she answered the door, her reactions when she finally learned what I was there for. I would have sworn she wasn’t playacting, but as I get older, the things I’m sure of become fewer.
    I kept coming back to the bottom line. Joanna Ridley had lied to us, more than once. In the world of murder and mayhem, liars are losers. And they’re usually guilty.
    Just thinking about the next day made me weary. I stripped off my clothes and crawled into bed. I wasn’t quite asleep when the phone rang.
    â€œHow’s it going, J. P.?”
    â€œMaxwell Cole, you son of a bitch! It’s late. Leave me alone. I’ve got a job to do. I don’t need you on my ass.”
    â€œLook, J. P., here I am calling you up to lend a little assistance, and you give me the brush-off.”
    â€œWhat kind of assistance?”
    â€œYou ever heard of FURY ?”
    â€œWhat is this, a joke?”
    â€œNo joke. Have you ever heard of it?”
    â€œWell, I’ve heard of Plymouth Furies and ‘hell hath no fury.’ Which is it?”
    â€œIt’s an acronym, F-U-R-Y . The initials stand for Faithful United to Rescue You.”
    â€œTo rescue me? From what?”
    â€œJ. P., I’m telling you, this is no joke. These people are serious. They’re having their first convention in town this week. They’re up at the Tower Inn on Aurora.”
    â€œSo what are they rescuing? Get to the point, Max.”
    â€œThey’re white supremacists. I interviewed their president today. No kidding. They want blacks to go back where they came from.”
    â€œJesus Christ, Max. What does all this have to do with me? I need my beauty sleep.”
    â€œThey said it’s possible one of their members knocked off Darwin Ridley.”
    â€œSend me his name and number. I’ll track him down in the morning.”
    â€œJ. P.…”
    â€œGet off it, Max. You know how this works. Some kooky splinter group claims responsibility for a crime and manufactures a whole armload of free publicity. Don’t fall for it. And don’t complicate my life. I’ve got plenty to do without chasing after phony suspects who are playing the media for a bunch of fools.”
    â€œAre you saying…” he began.
    â€œIf the shoe fits!”
    With that, I hung up. The phone began ringing again within seconds, but I ignored it. It rang twenty times or so before it finally stopped.
    Within minutes, I was sound asleep and dreaming about Girl Scout cookies.

CHAPTER
10
    T here’s only one thing to do with that many Girl Scout cookies—take them to the office and share the wealth. So I drove to the Public Safety Building and parked the Porsche in the bargain basement garage at the foot of Columbia. I’ve noticed that my 928 commands a fair amount of respect from parking garage attendants.
    This one held the door open for me as I got out. Then I crawled back inside and dredged out the two cartons of cookies. When the kid handed me my parking ticket, I gave him a box of cookies.
    â€œHey, thanks,” he said, grinning.
    â€œJust handle my baby with care,” I told him.
    â€œWe always do,” he replied.
    I was halfway up the block when I heard squealing tires as he jockeyed the Porsche intoa parking place. There was no accompanying sound of crumpling metal, so I didn’t worry about it.
    Peters glanced up from his