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Mountain Top(30)

By:Robert Whitlow

“You did a good job,” Sam said.

Mike spoke in a low voice. “I didn’t do anything. He was upset that you got hit.” Mike paused. “And probably wants to make sure you get out of jail in time to plant your garden.”

The judge called out, “State v. Garfield. Mr. Lambert for the defendant.”

“He’s partial to cauliflower,” Sam replied. “But I could tell he respects you.”

“I’m not sure respect is in his vocabulary when he’s thinking about lawyers.” Mike pointed across the courtroom. “But did you see Greg Freeman in action? He’s a sharp young attorney.”

“Yep, but you’re the one for me.”

“You’re harder to convince than Judge Coberg,” Mike replied softly. “After the judge signs the Order, I’ll come by the jail. You should be home for supper. I’m sure your wife can fix something easy to chew.”

Mike left the courtroom. He was halfway down the hall when he heard his name.

“Mike, just a minute!”

It was Mr. Forrest. He was leaning against the wall and breathing heavily. Mike returned to him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you wanted to talk to me,” Mike said.

The old man caught his breath. “It’s about Miller. I don’t think it’s wise for you to be representing him.”

Mike’s jaw tightened. Anyone but Maxwell Forrest would have received a curt response. Mike took a deep breath.

“It’s temporary, until he can find another attorney,” Mike said. “Maybe Greg Freeman could help him. I thought Greg did a good job this morning.”

“A much better choice,” Forrest said, clearing his throat. “A young lawyer with no reputation to protect.”

Mike narrowed his gaze. Forrest continued, “Jack Hatcher at the bank is concerned about this situation. There was a lot of money involved.”

“I planned on contacting someone at the bank about the account. If the charges are the result of a data entry error, I wouldn’t do anything to cause public embarrassment for the bank.”

“There’s no mistake, Mike,” Forrest said soberly. “I’ve seen the documentation. It’s embezzlement, although not a very artful attempt.”

Mike shrugged. “If that’s the case, it will probably be a matter of working out a guilty plea. Could you call Mr. Hatcher and arrange access for me to the bank’s records?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Why?”

“Your involvement creates an awkward situation.”

“How?”

“You’re no longer with the firm, of course, but our names remain linked in the minds of many people, and a possible conflict with the bank would be an undesirable scenario. As a minister, you hold a position of respect in the community that is above the unpleasantness of involvement in a criminal case. Trust me. I’m only trying to protect you.”

Mike was puzzled. “Is there more to this than I know?”

“Not really, except recognizing the wisdom of disengaging yourself from this matter so you can return to what the good Lord called you to do.”

Mike spoke slowly, “Mr. Forrest, I really appreciate your concern. It gives me a new perspective.”

Forrest patted Mike on the shoulder. “Good. You were always a quick learner.”


“WHY WOULD ANDREWS GET INVOLVED IN THE FIRST PLACE?” Jack Hatcher asked.

Maxwell Forrest shifted the phone receiver against his ear and made a note about the call on his time and billing slip.

“He’s always had a touch of crusader in him, but it doesn’t matter who handles the case. The evidence is ironclad.”

“Could Andrews delay the case?”

“Of course. No defendant wants speedy justice.”

“The board of the bank wants a conviction, the sooner the better.”

“I can encourage the process to move along.”

“Do it.”





Eight



MIKE WENT HOME AND PREPARED THE ORDER REDUCING SAM’ S bond then returned to the courthouse. Two lawyers were vigorously arguing a motion for summary judgment in a civil case. With no spectators present, the attorneys were like gladiators fighting in an empty arena. Mike sat in the front row and listened.

After the attorneys packed up their briefcases, Judge Coberg spoke to Mike. “Mr. Andrews, you may approach.”

Mike came forward and stood in front of the judge.

“I prepared the Order in the Miller case. Do you have time to review it before lunch?”

“So long as you didn’t write it in Hebrew or Greek.”

“Your Honor, my familiarity with ancient languages proved as fleeting as my understanding of the Rule against Perpetuities.”