Genuine Lies

to the print. “As if someone had thrown it there, or perhaps dropped it after backing up from the body.”
    “I found her like that,” Julia whispered. Her own voice was muffled by the roaring in her head, the quick, deadly illness in her stomach. “I went to her, took her hand. I think I said her name. And I knew. I got up, stumbled. I picked it up—I think—it had her blood on it. And on my hands. So I threw it down because I had to do something. Call someone.” She thrust the picture away and rose unsteadily to her feet. “Excuse me, I have to say good night to Brandon.”
    The moment she’d rushed up the stairs, Paul turned on him. “Did you have to do that to her?”
    “Yes, I’m afraid so. And worse before it’s over.” In an economic move, Lincoln turned over a page on his pad. “The prosecuting attorney is a very determined, very capable man. And like all men elected to office, ambitious and aware of the value of a celebrity trial. We’ll have to show a plausible alternative from every scrap of physical evidence he has. We’re also going to stuff reasonable doubt down the throats of not only a judge, a jury if it comes to that, but the public at large. Now I realize you and Julia have a personal relationship—”
    “Do you?” With a slow, grim smile, Paul sat on the arm of a chair. “Let me spell it out for you, counselor. Julia and Brandon belong to me now. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to break several small, vital bones in your body for what you did to her. But if you’re as good as I’ve heard, if you’re her best chance to get through this, then whatever you ask me to do, I’ll do.”
    Lincoln relaxed his grip on his pen. “Then I’d suggest the first thing be we forget about what happened between Julia and me more than a decade ago.”
    “Except that,” Paul said, and smiled again. “Try again.”
    Lincoln had seen more pleasant smiles on felons he’d convicted. “Your personal feelings about me will only hurt Julia.”
    “No. Nothing’s going to hurt her again. Including you. If I’d thought differently, you wouldn’t have walked through the door.” With his eyes still on Lincoln’s he pulled out a cigar. “I’ve worked with scum before.”
    “Paul.” Julia spoke quietly as she came downstairs again. “That won’t help.”
    “Clearing the air always helps, Julia,” he contradicted her. “Hathoway knows that while he has all of my disgust, he also has all my cooperation.”
    “I came here to help, not to be judged for a mistake I made over ten years ago.”
    “Be careful, Lincoln.” Julia rounded on him before she could stop herself. “That mistake is upstairs, sleeping. I’m accepting your help not only for my own sake, but for his. He’s been fatherless all his life. I can’t bear to think of him losing me too.”
    Only a faint flush rising up from his knotted tie to his cheeks indicated she’d hit any mark. “If we can all keep our personal feelings out of this, we have a much better chance of seeing that doesn’t happen.” Satisfied the subject was settled, he moved on. “You both knew the deceased, were privy to the workings of her household, her friendships, her enemies. It would be helpful if you told me everything you could about those close to her. Anyone who stood to gain by her death, financially, emotionally.”
    “Besides me?” Julia said.
    “Perhaps we’ll start with you, and Mr. Winthrop. Just a brief sketch, if you will. I’ve arranged for a suite at the Beverly Hills Hotel, where I’ll be working. Meyers, Courtney, and Lowe have agreed to lend me two of their clerks, and my own secretary will be flying out tomorrow.” He checked his watch, which he’d already changed to West Coast time, frowned. “We’ll need more in-depth interviews once I’ve set up. First thing Monday I’ll petition for a postponement of the arraignment.”
    “No.” Chilled, Julia began to rub her hands over her arms. “I’m sorry, Lincoln, but I can’t stand the idea of dragging this out.”
    “Julia, I’ll need time to structure your defense. With luck, we can keep this from going to trial.”
    “I don’t mean to be difficult, but I have to get it over with. Postponements only give more time to sensationalize. Brandon’s old enough to read the paper, see the newscasts. And I … to be frank, I can’t stand much more waiting.”
    “Well, we have the weekend to think about it.” Or, Lincoln decided, to turn her around