Slade shrugged. “Would you believe I just had a hunch?”
“More likely you have his office bugged.”
Slade laughed. “Well, anything is possible.” He shoved the doughnut box down the table toward Ben. “Look, Kincaid, you’ve never done anything to me, and whether you believe it or not, I’m not your enemy. So do you mind if I give you a little advice?”
“Not unless you expect me to take it.”
He laughed again. “I think I’ve got you pegged, Kincaid. You’re Don Quixote.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know what I mean. Tilting at windmills. Fighting for lost causes. That sort of thing.”
“You’re barking up the wrong-”
“Don’t bother denying it, kid. I’ve had you checked out.”
“What?”
“Don’t act so astonished. You don’t go into the courtroom unprepared, and neither do I. Did you think you were going to be able to waltz into this little melodrama and not get your hair mussed? That you could play with fire and not get singed? Well, wrongerino, kid. I’ve got your whole bleeding-heart background stored away in a file folder. As I’m sure those Green Ragers did before me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You thought this was some sort of coincidence? That they just happened to stumble across exactly what they needed most? Sorry, kid, I don’t believe in miracles. At least not at that level.”
“Your problem is that you think everyone in the world uses the same underhanded tactics as you.”
“You know, kid, I do think that. But it’s not a problem. It’s a reality.” He raised his hand to his face and let his fingers dance a moment on his forehead. “Which is all getting me far afield from the tiny piece of advice I wished to convey. Here it is, kid: go home.”
“You’re wasting my time.”
“No, I’m not, and I’m not joking, either. I’m vewwy vewwy serious. Go home. Catch a plane and fly back to sleepy little Tulsa. You’ll be a lot safer back where Ma and Pa still rise with the chickens, everyone believes in God, and nobody’s ever heard of nasty things like industrial sabotage or eco-terrorism. For your own sake, kid. You don’t belong here. So go home.”
“Well, thank you very much for your considerate advice. I promise to give it all the attention it merits.”
Slade leaned forward. “You think I’m going to let you win this case? Let me disinform you. I won’t.”
Ben felt the hairs on the back of his neck rising. “I wasn’t aware you had every juror in the county in the palm of your hand.”
“Then you should be. I can get anything I want, Kincaid. It’s just a question of time and money. And as far as this case goes, I’ve been given the green light.”
“What does that mean?”
“You figure it out. I’ve been authorized to do whatever it takes to accomplish our objectives. And I will.”
Ben tried to be brave, ignoring the fact that Slade was giving him the major-league creeps. “Look, it’s this simple. I don’t think George Zakin did it. And in any case, he’s entitled to a defense. So I’m going to give it to him.”
Slade let his hands flutter to his side. “I’ve got a surprise for you, chump.”
Ben blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“Very soon your newfound employers will be racing back to the rabbit warrens they crawled out of, and you will be left here holding the bag. Very alone. And very vulnerable.”
“If this is supposed to scare me, it isn’t working,” Ben lied.
“Like I said, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” Ben sputtered. “What is that, some-some kind of threat?”
Slade shook his head slowly back and forth. “I don’t make threats.” He lowered his eyes till they met Ben’s. “I don’t have to.”
Chapter 22
Tess crouched down behind the dense foliage at the edge of the clearing. As long as she stayed behind the greenery and didn’t move, she should be safe from detection by the men congregated a few hundred yards away.
At least that was the theory.
“Tell me again why we’re out here in broad daylight,” Tess whispered to Al, who was crouched beside her.
“It’s a reconnaissance mission,” Al whispered back. He glanced at Rick, who was hovering just above them. “Although I wonder if we don’t have an opportunity to do a little something more.”
A trace of a smile played on Rick’s lips. “Shhh. We don’t want to be spotted.”
“If we don’t want to be spotted,” Tess said, “why are we here?”
“Because we’re predators, remember?” Al answered. “We have to go out when our prey is afoot.”
Like that was a good answer or something, Tess thought. What on earth was she doing? Every mission she went on with these people seemed riskier and crazier than the one before. Sure, they had come to trust her. They were more comfortable talking to her, taking her into their confidence. But what a price …
“I know I’m the new kid on the block,” Tess whispered, keeping her eyes fixed on the men in the clearing, “but this seems awfully risky.”
Al looked unsympathetic. “Wah, wah, wah.”
“I mean, think about it. Our last raid was in the dead of night, and we still almost got caught. We had to run almost two miles before we lost that team of loggers. That team that, I might add, was probably waiting for us all along, like a cat hovering by a mousetrap.”
“We still got away with the cheese,” Al noted.
“That time, yes. But coming out here in broad daylight is totally harebrained.”
Al and Rick exchanged another wry glance. “We’re monkeywrenchers,” Rick said, grinning. “We like harebrained schemes.”
“And,” Al added, “this one isn’t even in the top ten.”
“Oh yeah?” Tess said. She saw an opportune opening in the conversation. “What would be? Running around in a Sasquatch suit?”
Al drew his head back. He gave her a long look, then winked at Rick. “Little pitchers have big ears.”
Rick nodded. “Loose lips sink ships.”
“Exchange cliches some other time, okay?” Tess said. “You guys were behind the Sasquatch sightings, weren’t you?”
Al looked away. “Whatever gave you that idea, my dear?”
“I just tried to imagine who might have a motive, my dear, and the only answer I came up with was Green Rage, several times over.”
“We’re tree huggers, remember? Not bear huggers.”
“Bigfoot huggers,” Rick corrected.
“Yeah, but if there was evidence of a rare, near-extinct life-form running around these woods, much less one as interesting and humanoid as Sasquatch, you’d be able to get an injunction to stop the clear-cutting.”
Rick touched a finger to the side of his head. “Al, I believe she’s a bit brighter than she first let on. Maybe we should put her in charge of operations.”
Al shook his head. “A little too bright for me.” He glanced at Tess. “Sorry to disappoint you, but the Bigfoot legend is not a grand eco-terrorist plot. Big-foot sightings continue on their own momentum, like all myths, urban and rural. I don’t know who started this current spate, but it wasn’t us.”
“Not that we didn’t think about cashing in on it,” Rick added. “We even sent Deirdre to Seattle for an appropriate costume. But we never used it.”
“Sober second thoughts?” Tess asked.
