nothing but ragged nerves.”
“Work on her. Can she be present in court today? I’d like to see her.”
“I’ll try.”
“See you at noon.”
She poured another cup of coffee and returned to the balcony. Axle slept under the rocker. The first light of dawn crept through the trees. She held the warm mug with both hands and tucked her bare feet under the heavy bathrobe. She sniffed the aroma and thought about how much she despised the press. So now the world \vould know about the hearing. So much for confidentiality. Her little client was suddenly more vulnerable. It was obvious now, the fact that he knew
something he shouldn’t know. If not, why wouldn’t he simply have talked when the judge instructed him to?
This game was growing more dangerous by the hour. And she, Reggie Love, Attorney and Counselor-at-Law, was supposed to have all the answers and dispense perfect advice. Mark would look at her with those scared blue eyes, and ask what to do next. How the hell was she supposed to know?
They were after her too.
DOREEN WOKE MARK EARLY. SHE’D FIXED BLUEBERRY MUF-
fins for him, and she nibbled on one and watched him with great concern. Mark sat in a chair, holding a muffin but not eating it, just staring blankly at the floor. He slowly raised the muffin to his mouth, took a tiny bite, then lowered it to his lap. Doreen watched every move.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” she asked him.
Mark nodded slowly. “Oh, I’m fine,” he said in a hollow, hoarse voice.
Doreen patted his knee, then his shoulder. Her eyes were narrow and she was very troubled. “Well, I’ll be around all day,” she said as she stood and walked to the door. “And I’ll be checking on you.”
Mark ignored her, and took another small bite of his muffin. The door slammed and clicked, and suddenly he crammed the rest of it in his mouth and reached for another.
He turned on the television, but with no cable he was forced to watch Bryant Gumbel. No cartoons. No old movies. Just Willard in a hat eating corn on the cob and sweet potato sticks.
Doreen returned twenty minutes later. The keys
jangled outside, the lock popped, and the door opened. “Mark, come with me,” she said. “You have a visitor.”
He was suddenly still again, detached, lost in another world. He moved slowly. “Who?” he said in that voice.
“Your lawyer.”
He” stood and followed her into the hallway. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, squatting in front of him. He nodded slowly, and they walked to the stairs.
Reggie was waiting in a small conference room one floor below. She and Doreen exchanged pleasantries, old acquaintances, and the door was locked. They sat on opposite sides of a small round table.
“Are we buddies?” she asked with a smile.
“Yeah. I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Mark. Believe me, I understand. Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah. Much better than at the hospital.”
“Doreen says she’s worried about you.”
“I’m fine. I’m much better off than Doreen.”
“Good.” Reggie pulled a newspaper from her briefcase and placed the front page on the table. He read it very slowly.
“You’ve made the front page three days in a row,” she said, trying to coax a smile.
“It’s getting old. I thought the hearing was private.”
“Supposed to be. Judge Roosevelt called me early this morning. He’s very upset about the story. He plans to bring in the reporter and grill him about it.”
“It’s too late for that, Reggie. The story is right here in print. Everybody sees it. It’s pretty obvious I’m the kid who knows too much.”
“Right.” She waited as he read it again and studied the pictures of himself.
“Have you talked to your mother?” she asked.
“Yes ma’am. Yesterday afternoon around five. She sounded tired.”
“She is. I saw her before you called, and she’s hanging in there. Ricky had a bad day.” ,
“Yeah. Thanks to those stupid cops. Let’s sue them.”
“Maybe later. We need to talk about something. After you left the courtroom yesterday, Judge Roosevelt talked to the lawyers and the FBI. He wants you, your mother, and Ricky placed in the Federal Witness Protection Program. He thinks it’s the best way to protect you, and I tend to agree.”
“What is it?”
“The FBI moves you to a new location, a very secret one, far away from here, and you have new names, new schools, new everything. Your mother has a new job, one that pays a lot more than six dollars an hour. After a few years there, they might move