Hidden Summit

little and said, “Really, Jack, you’re totally full of it. Very funny.”
    “Yeah, I’m just a real card. Is Paul around?”
    “Sure. Hang on.”
    A second later Paul came on the line with a, “What’s up, Jack?”
    “Your man, Conner,” he said. “I just saw his picture on CNN. They do a break from national news for local stuff. What did he say was his reason for needing time off?”
    “Family emergency,” Paul said. “Unspecified.”
    “I think I can specify it. He’s the only witness in a murder trial in Sacramento. His picture was on TV. He’s going to testify tomorrow.”
    Paul was completely quiet for a long, still moment. Then he yelled, “Lessssleeee!” And next he said, “I gotta go. I’ll get back to you.” And he hung up.
    Jack turned to where Preacher was chopping something on the work island in the kitchen and said, “Can you get on the computer and look something up for me?”
    “I guess so. If you’ll pay me for it.”
    “I’m not paying you for it! Do it for the cause! Take one for the team!”
    “Fine,” Preacher said, putting down his knife and wiping his hands. “Murder trial in the capitol, Conner Danson. Got it. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
    “Don’t say panties to me,” Jack nearly roared. “Don’t ever call what I wear panties!”
    And Preacher said, “Sheesh. Take it easy. You weren’t murdered.”
    Leslie stood in Paul’s doorway, her eyes as round as beach balls. She twisted her hands.
    “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with Conner?” Paul asked from behind his desk.
    Without uttering a word, she shook her head.
    “His picture was on TV,” Paul told her. “That’s how Jack knows. That’s how anyone who watches the news is going to know. Did you realize he’s going to testify tomorrow?”
    She shook her head and clutched her hands tighter so they wouldn’t shake. Tears gathered in her eyes.
    Paul stood up from behind his desk. “Les, don’t go through this alone.”
    “I’m not alone,” she said in a very soft voice. But she was alone. And so needed some support.
    The phone on Paul’s desk rang, and he picked it up. “Haggerty Construction. Yeah? Yeah? I’ll be damned. Well, I guess I’m not at all surprised. I’ll see you in a couple hours, then. And I’ll bring Les.” Then he hung up.
    “Bring Les where?” she asked.
    “Apparently it took Preacher about two minutes on the computer to find out that Danson Conner, the owner of a hardware store in Sacramento, witnessed a murder in the alley behind his store and is going to testify against a very powerful man in the murder trial. And guess what? He’s been here for a few months. Did you know that Jack’s little sister was a Sacramento County prosecutor? He says this has Brie’s fingerprints all over it, so he called her and offered to buy her a beer at around four today. We’re going to join them.”
    “We are?”
    “Yes, we are. I can see you’re scared. Brie knows how much of this she can let out, and that’s bound to reassure you a little bit. So you can talk!” He sat back down. “Go on—get things wrapped up and we’ll go have a beer.”

Nineteen
    C onner had skipped the opening remarks at the trial, but decided to go to court for the testimony of the police officers who answered his call. He was escorted by an officer in an unmarked car, his truck safely stowed in a very large, crowded mall parking lot where it would not be linked to him and not tampered with.
    There were a lot of cops testifying, not to mention a coroner. The coroner’s report would come later, but the photos and examination of the deceased at the scene were entered as evidence and testimony.
    For the first time since this whole ordeal had begun, he had a very uneasy, unsure feeling. Regis Mathis didn’t look like a murderer in this setting. Conner already knew he didn’t sound like a murderer, this pillar of the community. There was nothing slick about him. He didn’t look like the kind of man who would be friends with Dickie Randolph. And the D.A.’s allegation that they were even in business together seemed impossible.
    Mathis was a tall, regal man with expensive tastes. This wasn’t something Conner would have known, had his off-duty cop protector and escort not said to him, “Man, that’s at least a ten-thousand-dollar suit.” And as Conner watched Mathis from the back of the courtroom, the man was very clearly comfortable, confident, very much at ease with