Capitol Offense Read Online Free PDF

not withholding anything.”
    “Maybe you should!”
    “I dunno about that, Jones,” Loving said, “but I think this gives me a lotta insight into your relationship with Paula.”
    “Oh, ha ha.”
    “I wondered how she managed to score that big rock on her ring finger. Now I think I know.”
    “I gave that to her because I love her!”
    “Or hoped to.”
    Jones leaned right into Loving’s face. The office investigator was twice as wide and almost a foot taller than the office manager, but that didn’t intimidate him. “Now you listen to me, you big … galoot!”
    “Who’s a galoot?”
    “You’re a galoot!”
    “Do you even know what a galoot is?”
    “Well … not exactly. But I know you are one!”
    Christina eased herself between them. “Would you two stop acting like third graders? You work for an important attorney and U.S. senator, for Pete’s sake. Show a little
je ne sais quoi.”
She paused. “Besides, the client might hear.”
    “I don’t care if—” Jones stopped short when he heard the jangling bell that told him someone had opened the front door to the seventh-floor offices of Kincaid & McCall. Jones waited a good three seconds until their titular boss reached them.
    “No more pro bono cases!” Ben said, flinging his briefcase on Jones’s reception desk.
    “Ben!” Christina replied. “You’ve always said it was a lawyer’s duty to help those in need.”
    “I’ve had a change of heart,” Ben groused. “I draw the line at morons who leave the police a map to follow.” He did a double take. “What are you wearing?”
    She did a little pirouette. “Just a little something I picked up. Do you think I look sexy?”
    “I think you look like Donald Duck.”
    Loving cut in, presumably to prevent an incident requiring medical attention. “So, Skipper, are you sayin’ you’re too important for cases like that one?”
    “I think everyone’s too important for cases like that one. I’m going to call Marty and tell him to take me off the referral list.”
    Christina gently laid a finger on his cheek. “Now, Ben. Isn’t that a bit drastic?”
    “Do you have any idea how much stuff I have to do right now?”
    “Probably better than you, since I look at your calendar occasionally. But you have an obligation to others, don’t you?”
    “Well, of course, but—”
    “Haven’t you talked about the importance of reaching out a helping hand?”
    “Well, yes, but—”
    She ran her fingers through his hair and talked in baby talk. “You don’t want to become an old sourpuss, do you?”
    He frowned. “All right. I won’t call Marty.”
    “Thank you, snookums.”
    “And thank you,” Jones muttered, “for demonstrating how he never listens and you have no influence over him.”
    Ben’s brow creased. “Why are you three standing around? Don’t you have work to do?”
    Jones stood at attention. “I have something I want to discuss with you, Ben. We all do, that is.”
    “I don’t like the sound of this already.”
    “I’ll cut straight to the chase. We want you to go back on the billable hour.”
    “No.”
    “Ben, everyone does it.”
    “My mother used to say, if everyone jumped off a cliff—”
    “Oh, spare me the homilies and look at it from the standpoint of your office manager. You’re a U.S. senator. You’ve defended cases that received national attention. And we still barely make ends meet!”
    “The billable hour is the worst thing that ever happened to the legal profession. All it does is stir up a lot of dissatisfaction and suspicion. And it destroys lawyers’ lives. Leaves them no time for pro bono work or mentoring. Drives women out of the profession. Justice Breyer wrote, and I quote, ‘The profession’s obsession with billable hours is like drinking water from a fire hose. The result is that many lawyers are starting to drown.’”
    “Excuse me, did I ask for a Ben rant? I’m just trying to put a little change in the Christmas