Carl put his good arm around her shoulder and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Sure we will, Van. Sure we will.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Ami’s wake-up call shocked her out of a deep sleep shortly after six in the morning, but Ryan slept through the jangling noise. Ami hung up the phone, flopped back in bed, and watched her son sleep. Last night, he had been so excited about staying in a hotel, eating in the fancy dining room, and watching a Disney movie in their room. Now, he looked so peaceful that she had to smile. Death and destruction were all around, but they barely touched her boy.
Ami wished that she could let Ryan sleep, but she had to get him to school. Then she would go to her office. The Morelli case had consumed most of her time since the General’s daughter had barged into her life, but Ami had other clients with pressing problems and she could not afford to laze around her hotel room all day. She had explained this to Brendan Kirkpatrick after they had finished breakfast yesterday morning. The prosecutor had arranged for the policeman who was guarding her to drive her to her office after she woke up around noon. The officer had stayed in the reception area until it was time to pick up Ryan at school.
“Hey, Tiger,” Ami said as she gently shook Ryan’s shoulder. “It’s time to get up.”
Ryan grunted and rolled away from her. She leaned over and planted several disgustingly wet kisses on his cheek.
“Yuck, Mom, don’t,” he begged.
“Then get your butt out of bed. It’s a school day.”
“Do I have to? Can’t I stay here with you?”
“Nope. I’m not even staying here. I’m going to work, and you’re going to school. Now, if you move fast enough, we can have breakfast in the dining room.”
Suddenly Ryan was wide awake. “Can I have pancakes?”
“If you don’t dillydally. Now scoot.”
As Ryan grabbed the clothes that Ami had laid out for him and ran for the bathroom, there was a knock at the door. Ami knew that the guard would not let anyone hurt her if he could help it, but she remembered what had happened to the policemen who had guarded her at her house.
Ami slipped on the terry-cloth robe that the hotel provided and peered through the peephole. Brendan Kirkpatrick was standing on the other side of the door looking as if he’d just stepped out of a men’s fashion magazine. She, on the other hand, looked like a woman with no makeup who had just gotten out of bed and had not even brushed her teeth. For a moment she debated pretending that she wasn’t in, but that wasn’t practical. The guard knew she hadn’t left the room. It wasn’t a particularly adult way of handling the situation, either, so she opened the door and let the prosecutor in.
“To what do I owe this honor?” Ami said, clutching the edges of the robe together at her neck.
Brendan didn’t seem to notice how awful she looked. He flashed a wide grin. “You’re safe. They got them.”
“Where?” Ami asked, afraid that the arrest had been made at her cabin.
“California. I don’t know the whole story, but Howard Walsh tells me that Wingate’s security force rescued the General’s daughter and brought her to his estate near San Diego. Rice broke into the mansion to get her back. He killed and injured several of Wingate’s men, but the General trapped them in the house and they surrendered to the police.”
Ami felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Kirkpatrick thought it was because Rice was behind bars where he could not hurt her or her son, but Ami was thankful that the police had not figured out that she had abetted the fugitives’ escape.
“Anyway,” Brendan went on, “you’re safe. And you can go back to your house tonight.”
“That’s great.”
“You must be relieved.”
“I am. Ever since Vanessa walked into my office, this case has been a nightmare. I should never have been involved in the first place. I never intended to represent Rice, anyway. I was just in it until someone competent could take over.”
Brendan smiled. “For a neophyte Perry Mason, you certainly gave me a hard time.”
“Good. I’ll consider this outing to be a success if you’ve learned a little humility. Maybe the next time you won’t be so quick to pick on a defenseless woman.”
Brendan held up his hands. “Hey, I give. I learned my lesson. And you’re anything but defenseless. Anyway, I just wanted to give you the good news personally.”
“Thanks.”
“Well,” Kirkpatrick said awkwardly, “I have to get to the office. I actually have other cases. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Maybe you will.”
“I might have to call you as a witness, you know.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“Well, see you.”
Ami stared after Brendan Kirkpatrick as the door closed. Was she imagining it, or was the stone-cold DA showing the type of nervousness around her that was reminiscent of an adolescent boy with a crush? Did he like her? She sure had not liked him. Not at first, anyway. But he was growing on her. She wondered what she would say if he asked her out. Oh, well, no use speculating. He hadn’t, and she would cross that bridge if she ever came to it. Right now all she wanted to do was take Ryan to school. She’d had enough excitement to last a lifetime, and she was looking forward to living a normal, boring existence again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Patrick Gorman, the owner of Exposed, lumbered into the visiting room at the San Diego jail and dropped into a chair across from a dejected Vanessa Kohler. Vanessa’s initial euphoria at escaping from her father’s mansion had given way to despair as it slowly dawned on her during the numerous police interrogations that everyone believed General Morris Wingate’s version of events and no one gave any credence to her fantastic tale of secret armies and government conspiracies.
Gorman forced a smile, but he was sad to see one of his reporters in such a sorry state.
“When I hired you, did I forget to tell you that your job is to report the news, not be the news?” he asked.
“I probably wasn’t paying attention.”
“That, I can believe. So, how are you doing?”
“Okay. I’m isolated from the rest of the prisoners so I don’t have to worry about being gang-raped. My biggest problem is boredom and the shitty food. Of course, with what you pay me, all I can afford is shitty food, so I guess boredom is my main problem.”
“Hey, I pay top dollar for a scandal sheet. See if they’d pay you any more at
“How’s the paper doing? I can’t get it in here.”
“It’s gone downhill since you left. No one writes a giant rat story like you.”
Vanessa smiled for a moment. Then she sobered. “Have you heard anything about Carl? They won’t tell me a thing.”
“I know he’s in federal custody. They’re not letting anyone near him. He hasn’t even been arraigned yet.”
Vanessa leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Did my lawyer bring you my manuscript?”
