ridiculous women in the magazines. You’re a real woman.”
Millie didn’t know what to say. The only other person who had ever complimented her figure was her college boyfriend. She doubted he had been sincere. In retrospect, it was obvious that he had flattered her so he could get her into bed.
Before that train of thought could travel very far, Millie remembered why she was in the prison. She broke into a grin, unable to contain her excitement.
“I have wonderful news.”
“I know,” Clarence said. “You won my postconviction cases. Thanks to you, the circuit court set aside my convictions.”
Millie looked disappointed that her news wasn’t a surprise. “How did you find out? The judge only ruled an hour ago. I rushed over to tell you.”
“And I appreciate that, but the prison grapevine is better than the Internet. It’s hard to keep news like this quiet. But I don’t know how you won. That’s what I’m waiting to hear.”
“It was the Erickson case. The prosecutor introduced evidence about Erickson’s murder when he prosecuted you for the murders of the other two women, but you were framed in that case.”
“And the others, Millie,” Little reminded her.
“I know, Clarence.”
“Go on. Tell me how you pulled off this miracle.”
“Judge Case held that the introduction of manufactured evidence from such a high-profile case was so prejudicial that reversal was required even though the prosecutor introduced the evidence with a good faith belief that you had committed the crime.”
Clarence listened intently as Millie went over the judge’s opinion in detail. When she was finished, he grinned. Then he pressed his hand to the glass. “You are brilliant, Millie. I knew it the first time we talked. I don’t think anyone else could have won my case.”
Millie blushed and placed her hand over his. There was a pane of cool glass between them but Millie’s hand felt hot, as if Clarence were able to irradiate her skin with his love.
“What’s next?” he asked.
“New trials in the Benford and Poole cases in which the state will be barred from introducing any evidence about Laurie Erickson.”
“Can I count on you to represent me?”
Millie had daydreamed about winning acquittals in Clarence’s trials but she was suddenly overwhelmed by insecurity.
“I don’t know, Clarence. Maybe I shouldn’t. I have very little trial experience, and trying a capital case… I don’t know if I can do it.”
“Of course you can. Look what you’ve done already. You’re a special person, Millie, and this victory proves that you’re a great lawyer.”
“I’ll have to think about handling the retrials,” Millie said. “I’d feel terrible if I lost your case because I wasn’t up to the job. If you ended up back on death row because of me, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
“I don’t want to force you to be my attorney if you’re not comfortable. But when you’re deciding, know that I have complete faith in you. You are my first choice.”
Millie swallowed. She didn’t want to let Clarence down. In her fantasies, she was Perry Mason incarnate, but when she thought about her abilities seriously, she had real concerns about handling a death-penalty murder case. Clarence leaned forward and spoke into the receiver in a low, confidential tone.
“Do you know why I want you and you alone to be my lawyer? I need you because you believe in me. Another lawyer will take the case for the publicity. He will assume I’m guilty. But you know I’m innocent, and that will communicate to the jurors. They will sense the insincerity in those other lawyers, but they will believe what you say because they will see that your words come from your heart.”
“But what if…” Millie started. Clarence shook his head.
“There are no ifs, Millie. The woman who convinced Judge Case to overturn the verdicts in my case is a master of the law and has no peers. How often do lawyers succeed in postconviction appeals? I’ll tell you. The rate of success is minuscule. Yet you won. And you will be victorious when we go into court together.” Clarence pressed his fist to his chest. “I know it in my heart.”
Millie’s eyes filled with tears of joy. No man had ever spoken to her like this. She was so choked up that she couldn’t speak. Clarence smiled.
“Before I met you, I only had death to look forward to. Do you know what gives me hope when I’m locked down in my cell? When I start to get depressed, I think about sharing my freedom with you.
“When I’m free, we’ll go away together to some warm place with white sand beaches and palm trees, and we’ll lie in the sun and I’ll be able to forget this nightmare. Will you be there with me, Millie?”
“Yes, I will. And we will win. I know it.”
“Good girl. That’s the Millie Reston I’ve come to admire. Be strong and we will prevail.”
They smiled at each other. Then Clarence whispered, “Did you bring your legal memo?”
“Yes,” she answered as she tried to keep her voice from shaking. Millie’s good mood disappeared and fear gripped her. She had brought the memo at Clarence’s request as she had once before. She felt sick. If she was caught, she could be disbarred. She might even go to jail.
Clarence asked a guard to step in. Millie slipped the memo through the slot for legal papers. The guard flipped through it. When he was convinced that contraband was not hidden between the pages he handed the memo to Clarence and left the room. Clarence read the memo and made several comments. Then he slid it back through the slot and Millie put it in her attache case. They talked for another half hour before she left.
Millie thought she might throw up as she walked through the prison to the parking lot. When she was locked in her car, she rested her head on the steering wheel until the tension drained from her body. As soon as she was able, she drove away from the penitentiary. She didn’t stop until she was back in Portland, and she didn’t separate the pages of the memo until she was in her office with the door closed.
Clarence was a master of sleight of hand. Even though Millie had been watching him the whole time, she had missed seeing Clarence slip the envelope out of the file with his legal papers and into the memo. She remembered his warning to wear gloves when she handled the envelope so she wouldn’t leave fingerprints. It was addressed to Brad Miller like the other envelope she’d smuggled out of the penitentiary.
On the evening of the presidential election over a year ago, Millie had waited in the parking lot of Miller’s apartment complex in the dark with her lights off as the rain beat down on the roof of her car. As soon as Miller and Ginny Striker drove off to their election-night parties, Millie had slipped the envelope under Miller’s door and driven away. There had been no repercussions then and Clarence assured her that there would be none this time. All he was asking her to do was mail a letter.
Chapter Three
Brad Miller had not been kidding when he told Dana Cutler and Jake Teeny that he hoped the rest of his life was dull as dirt. And Brad knew about dull as dirt. He had grown up and gone to college in the less than exciting suburbs of Long Island, then studied law in Manhattan. Living in New York sounds exotic if you’re from Nebraska or South Dakota, but it is much less exciting if you’re on a strict budget and studying most of each day. Brad had always been a straight arrow, so not once during his three years in school did he snort cocaine with swimsuit models while partying all night with the rich and famous at a new, in club. In fact, his only contact with drugs and wild goings-on occurred while reading police reports during an internship at the Manhattan DA’s office during the summer between his first and second year in law school.
Brad fled the East Coast when his fiancee dumped him shortly before the wedding that was supposed to take place after law school graduation. What seemed tragic at first turned into a blessing in disguise when he met Ginny Striker, another associate toiling in Portland’s modern-day salt mine, Reed, Briggs, Stephens, Stottlemeyer and Compton.
Brad also knew the flip side of dull as dirt. From the moment a sadistic senior partner ordered him to file an
