The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [39]
“No way,” Ben said. “If I do that, it means I might as well kiss my job good-bye. Besides, even if I went to the police, Rick would see us coming a mile away.”
“What makes you think that?” Lisa asked.
“Are you kidding?” Ben asked. “For the past month he’s watched our every move. Besides, it’s not like we’re doing anything so sophisticated. We’re just trying to get his voice on tape. It’s not like we’re trying to invade his hidden sanctuary located on a private island.”
Lisa turned to Ober. “Don’t worry. Rick doesn’t really have a private island. It’s just a figure of speech.”
“No duh,” Ober shot back.
“I’m serious, though,” Ben said. “If things get hairy, we can call in help. But until then, I’d like to try this by ourselves.”
Chapter 6
THE FOLLOWING DAY, BEN AND LISA WORKED nonstop on four different decisions. After three months together, the two clerks had developed an efficient method for writing opinions. The better of the two at crafting original arguments, Ben always composed the first draft of the decision. With an aggressive writing style and uncompromising persistence, his opinions always barreled forward from introduction to conclusion. Lisa was the impeccable analyst. Ben said she had X-ray vision since she was able to see the holes in the most well-reasoned arguments. So after Ben presented his completed first draft, Lisa’s editing skills went to work. A stickler for detail and the superior logician, she usually wrote twenty-page responses to Ben’s forty-page decisions. When they’d finished their rewrite, the opinion went to Hollis.
At six o’clock, Ben shut off his computer and grabbed his jacket from the closet.
“Where are you going?” Lisa asked, looking up from the desk.
“I have a dinner date I can’t break. Eric’s aunt and uncle have been inviting us over since I got back from Europe.”
“But I still haven’t seen your first draft of the Russell decision.”
“It’s almost done. You’ll have a finished draft by tomorrow at lunch.”
“I better.”
“You will. I promise.” As Ben walked to the door, his phone rang. Assuming it was Eric calling with another excuse about why he’d be late, Ben ran back to his desk and picked up the receiver. “This is Ben,” he said.
“Hey, Ben,” Rick said. “How’s everything going?”
“What the hell do you want?” Ben asked, recognizing the voice.
“Nothing,” Rick said. “I just wanted to know what you’re up to. I understand you have a big dinner date tonight.”
“Are we still on for Saturday? Because—”
Rick hung up.
Ben slammed down the receiver.
“What’s wrong? Who was that?”
“It was Rick,” Ben said, rushing to the door.
“What’d he—” Before Lisa finished her question, Ben was gone.
Ben ran down the Court’s forty-four steps and impatiently waited for his ride to arrive. At five after six, Eric and Ober pulled up in Eric’s car. Ben was silent as he got into the pale gray Honda.
“I thought of the best name for a Mexican restaurant today,” Ober excitedly announced, turning around in his seat. “I’m going to call it Tequila Mockingbird.”
Ben didn’t say a word.
“Sorry I’m late,” Eric said. “I was—”
“Where’s Nathan?” Ben interrupted.
“We’re picking him up at home. I figured you three would want to change before dinner. Aunt Katie doesn’t require a shirt and tie.” Looking in the rearview mirror, Eric noticed the scowl on Ben’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Ben said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Are you—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Ben repeated.
Glancing at Ober, Eric shrugged his shoulders and headed home.
“You’re late,” Nathan proclaimed the moment the door opened. Walking inside, Ben headed straight to the kitchen.
“What’s wrong with him?” Nathan asked.
“He wouldn’t say,” Eric said. “I think something happened at work.” Sitting on the love seat, Eric asked, “Were you waiting long?”
“I want you to know it still amazes me that you are consistently five minutes late to everything,” Nathan said, looking at his watch. “I mean, I can set my watch to your