Page 114 of The Lincoln Lawyer

He looked at me and the fire came back.

“Where the fuck do you think? Business, man. Thanks to Roulet I’m having a hell of a year. But goddamn, Mick, I didn’t cut him loose from the bracelet so he could go out and kill Raul. I knew Raul just as long as you did. I did not do that. I did not put the bracelet on and wear it while he went to kill Raul. And I did not go and kill Raul for him for a fucking TV. If you can’t believe that, then just get the hell out of here and out of my life!”

He said it all with the desperate intensity of a wounded animal. A flash thought of Jesus Menendez came to my mind. I had failed to see the innocence in his pleas. I didn’t want that to ever happen again.

“Okay, Val,” I said.

I walked over to the house door and pushed the button that raised the garage door. When I turned back I saw he had taken a box cutter from the tool bench and was cutting the tape on the top of the TV box. It looked like he was trying to confirm what we already knew about the plasma. I walked past him and out of the garage.

“I’ll split it with you, Val,” I said. “I’ll have Lorna send you a check in the morning.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll tell them it was delivered this way.”

I got to my car door and looked back at him.

“Then give me a call when they arrest you for fraud. After you bail yourself out.”

I got in the Lincoln and backed out of the driveway. When I glanced back into the garage, I saw Valenzuela had stopped cutting open the box and was just standing there looking at me.

Traffic going back into the city was light and I made good time. I was just coming in through the front door when the housephone started to ring. I grabbed it in the kitchen, thinking maybe it was Valenzuela calling to tell me he was taking his business to another defense pro. At the moment I didn’t care.

Instead, it was Maggie McPherson.

“Everything all right?” I asked. She usually didn’t call so late.

“Fine.”

“Where’s Hayley?”

“Asleep. I didn’t want to call until she went down.”

“What’s up?”

“There was a strange rumor about you floating around the office today.”

“You mean the one about me being Raul Levin’s murderer?”

“Haller, is this serious?”

The kitchen was too small for a table and chairs. I couldn’t go far with the phone cord tether so I hoisted myself up onto the counter. Through the window over the sink I could see the lights of downtown twinkling in the distance and a glow on the horizon that I knew came from Dodger Stadium.

“I would say, yes, the situation is serious. I am being set up to take the fall for Raul’s murder.”

“Oh my God, Michael, how is this possible?”

“A lot of different ingredients—evil client, cop with a grudge, stupid lawyer, add sugar and spice and everything nice.”

“Is it Roulet? Is he the one?”

“I can’t talk about my clients with you, Mags.”

“Well, what are you planning to do?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered. I’ll be okay.”

“What about Hayley?”

I knew what she was saying. She was warning me to keep it away from Hayley. Don’t let her go to school and hear kids talking about her father the murder suspect with a face and name splashed across the news.