Page 14 of The Right to Remain

“No need to apologize,” said Jack.

“You mind if I change the subject?”

“Not at all.”

Andie moved the suitcase from the bed, then went to him. “It could be a while before I’m back,” she said in her bedroom voice.

“Where’s Righley?”

“Soccer practice for another hour.”

He smiled with interest. “How convenient.”

“Just one last word about your case.”

“You always get the last word.”

“It’s who I am. I assume it’s in your client’s best interest to prove that it was a suicide, so will you do me this one favor?”

“You caught me in no mood to say no.”

“Please don’t cast Pollard as yet another typical angry white male zealot who can’t help turning his gun on himself and ends up blowing his brains out in the kitchen. As a responsible gun owner, I hate those clichés.”

“I hate all clichés.”

She touched his chest. “All of them? Even the strong, buff husband who carries his wife into the kitchen, lays her naked on the counter, and makes love to her like they might never see each other again?”

“Hmm. Not all clichés are bad, I suppose.”

He tried to pick her up, but they were leaning in opposite directions and fell onto the bed.

“But who needs a cold granite countertop?” said Andie.

“When there’s a perfectly good mattress right here,” said Jack, finishing her thought for her with a kiss on the neck.

Chapter 4

The designated meeting place was outdoors, at Bayfront Park, the largest green space in downtown Miami. Jack’s instructions were to follow the main walkway due east, toward Biscayne Bay, and meet Elliott at the giant statue of Christopher Columbus near the seawall. C. J. Vandermeer wouldn’t be expecting Jack, but Elliott guaranteed that he would be there at noon, and the plan was to stage a “chance” encounter that would turn into an introduction.

It was almost noon, and Jack was still several blocks away from the park, stuck in traffic. He was in the passenger seat. Behind the wheel was Theo Knight, Jack’s best friend, bartender, therapist, confidant, and sometime investigator. Theo was also a former client. Jack’s thinking was that if CJ refused to talk to Jack, the son of the former governor, he might talk to Theo, whose death warrant was signed by Governor Swyteck and was the one innocent man on death row Jack had ever defended.

“Looks like Biscayne Boulevard is closed,” said Theo. “Some kind of protest.”

Biscayne was Miami’s signature north-south boulevard, four lanes in each direction that were divided by an elevated tram and rows of royal palm trees. Office towers lined the west side of the street, and to the east beautiful Bayfront Park stretched to the waterfront. Hundreds of people were marching down all eight lanes in the same direction.

Jack suddenly remembered what was going on in Miami that weekend—and why Elliott had been able to “guarantee” that a self-proclaimed revolutionary like C. J. Vandermeer would be there.

“G-twenty,” said Jack.

“Bingo!” said Theo.

“You know about the Group of Twenty?”

“No. But I know bingo.”

Jack explained. The Group of Twenty included nineteen member states, the EU and the African Union, representing 85 percent of the world’s GDP and over 75 percent of global trade. The annual G20 summit was the premier forum for international cooperation on global economic issues. It was also a rallying point for public protest. Demonstrators from all over the world had flooded the streets of downtown Miami to decry everything from sweatshop labor to international banking.

A text message appeared on Jack’s phone. It was from Elliott:Too crowded at chris columbus. Meet at park entrance on 1st.