Lawyer Trap Read Online Free PDF Page A

of a car next to him exploded.
    He zigzagged and ran even faster.
    After he lost them, he circled back to the bar and hid behind a pickup truck across the street. When they returned, he memorized their faces. Then headed back to the hotel.
    When he got there, he knocked on the door next to his.
    A woman opened it.
    Not exactly a prom queen, but not the opposite either. Her short punked-out blond hair reeked of pot. For some reason he liked her right away.
    â€œYou still open for business?” he asked.
    She grabbed his shirt and pulled him inside.
    â€œYou look dangerous,” she said. “That gets me hot.”

7
    DAY TWO–SEPTEMBER 6
    TUESDAY MORNING
    T effinger got up early Tuesday morning, with Davica already in his thoughts. He threw on sweatpants and jogged out the front door well before the crack of dawn, letting his legs stretch and his lungs burn, while he flashed back to being in bed with her yesterday.
    He could have taken her if he’d wanted.
    She had him in bed for a reason and it wasn’t just to watch the DVD. They could have done that in the study. Or not done it at all.
    â€œYou definitely have some willpower,” he told himself. “Maybe too much.”
    Even though September had just started, and Indian summer hadn’t yet begun, the mornings were already getting a chill.
    Perfect for jogging.
    He did three miles at a pretty good clip and then finished the workout with several sets of pushups and sit-ups in his front yard. Forty-five minutes later, he was at his desk downtown, the first person to work, trying to get organized while the coffee pot fired up.
    He drank the entire pot and was just starting to make the second one when Sydney showed up.
    â€œI checked the Internet to exhaustion last night,” she said. “Someone as rich as Davica Holland ought to be showing up all over the place. But Google acts like she doesn’t even exist.”
    â€œThat’s interesting.”
    Sydney couldn’t wait for the pot to fill, so she pulled it out, stuck her cup under the coffee stream, and then switched back after it filled, never spilling a drop.
    â€œVery impressive,” Teffinger said. “But can you do it behind your back?”
    He then did it.
    Behind his back.
    Spilling coffee all over the place.
    â€œTell me again why I work with you?”
    He smiled, mopping the counter with paper towels.
    â€œBecause you have to.”
    She looked doubtful. “That couldn’t be enough. There must be more.”
    Then Teffinger said something he didn’t expect.
    â€œI might have to take myself off the Davica Holland case,” he said.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI think I’m more interested in sleeping with her than finding out if she’s a murderer,” he said.
    Sydney rolled her eyes.
    â€œEven if you took yourself off, you still couldn’t sleep with her,” she said.
    That was true.
    â€œSuch a dilemma,” he said.
    â€œHere’s what you do,” she said. “A, don’t sleep with her. And B, put the little fellow back in his cage and then find out if she’s a murderer like the city’s paying you to do.”
    â€œYou’re right.”
    â€œAnd C,” she added, “don’t always look so surprised when I’m right.”
    He smiled, then put on a serious face: “What do you mean, ‘little fellow’?”
    She sipped coffee.
    â€œYou’re not black, are you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œOkay then.”
    He laughed, then surprised himself again, and told her about the bedroom incident yesterday.
    She frowned as she listened.
    â€œDavica has motive. And unless and until we can better pinpoint when Angela Pfeiffer disappeared, she also has opportunity. Now she’s got you off balance with this bed thing. My question is whether she’s doing it on purpose.”
    It was shortly after nine o’clock when Teffinger realized he had done something really