Flocks of Canadian geese flying south in “V” formations crossed the cloudless October sky. Their honking interrupted my thoughts, bringing me back to the present.
Just across the bay, a little over a one-hour drive, was Washington, D.C. I had quit my job at the National Security Agency when my supervisors demanded that I got them whatever they wanted, even if it violated the law. I had to keep all that to myself, locked away in an internal vault forever, allegedly for national security reasons. Now I had won the Marisa Dupree case. I had taken on a big defense contractor, foreign spies, and even the FBI. Perhaps Glenn was right. I could still do some good back in Washington. Maybe I had walked away from that field of battle too soon.
Hailey opened the back door and stepped onto the porch. “Beautiful out here in the late afternoon. I made us Darjeeling tea.”
“Oh, I like that kind. Can’t spell it, but I like it.”
My paralegal sat on an Adirondack chair. “Afternoons by the bay are so calming.”
“Yeah, I love it. Hey, Hailey, the Dupree case proved what I’ve said for years. When the government makes up fake data and narratives, eventually innocent people will get hurt. That’s what happened to Marisa.”
She stretched her long legs out of the shade and into the glow of the sunlight. “And we were caught up in it, as well. At least for a while. But you did a good job, Bryce. So Marisa never stole files from Benton Dynamics after all? This morning, I would’ve bet the other way.”
“That’s right. She didn’t. Thanks for all your help on the case.”
“No prob. And you finally got your wish. You represented an innocent person. Really threw her a lifeline.”
The sun slowly arced toward the west, casting a column of fiery orange glow across the smooth surface of the gray waters. In the afternoon warmth, the Chesapeake Bay and all the surrounding lowlands seemed still and quiet.
Hailey continued, “And you know what else you said last week? You didn’t just push another case through the system. You did a little …”
“Don’t say it. We might get struck by lightning.”
“I’ll take that risk, Bryce. You did a little justice.”
Acknowledgements
This novel would not have been possible without the support of the author’s family and friends.
He thanks his wife, Tracey, and his four daughters for all their love and understanding. He also appreciates the many sacrifices and contributions of his parents, Dan Stone and Judy Stone.
This book benefited greatly from the creative minds of Café Foul Play, namely, Ann Grant, KM Rockwood, Barbara House, Charlie Jones, and Jasmine Gump. Let’s raise our coffee mugs to what really matters in this world: breakfasts and books.
About the Author
Drew Stone writes legal thrillers and spy novels. For nearly thirty years, he has practiced law in both federal and state courts, and his writing draws upon that experience. He lives and writes in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.
Please visit the author’s website for information about upcoming publications, events, and newsletters:
www.DrewStoneAuthor.com
