The Deep Blue Alibi Read Online Free PDF Page A

“You’re not still pissed about the hospital, are you?”
    “I didn’t care for the way you spoke to Uncle Grif.”
    “C’mon, he loved it.”
    “It’s like you assume he’s guilty.”
    “I always assume clients are guilty. Most of them are, so it saves time.”
    “Uncle Grif would never kill anyone.”
    “How would you know? You haven’t seen the guy since you were a teenybopper, making out with what’shis-name at the country club.”
    “Junior. And you’re right. He taught me to French kiss.”
    “Remind me to thank him. My point is, our perceptions of people are skewed by our own circumstances.”
    “No kidding? Look who took Psych 101.”
    “You remember Griffin as someone who gave you great birthday presents. I see him as one tough customer.”
    “Maybe he’s a little rough around the edges, but underneath, he’s a sweetheart.”
    “All of us are capable of murder. Even you, Princess.”
    “Don’t call me ‘Princess.’ ”
    “Why not? Sweet old Uncle Grif does.”
    “He doesn’t make it sound like an accusation.”
    Traffic was light as they crossed the bridge at Boca Chica. Overhead, two jet fighters banked in formation, practicing night landings at the Naval Air Station. Steve hit the gas and passed a Winnebago, giving the tourists a look at the Eldo’s license plate, i-object. The car’s top was down, the air rich with the salty aroma from the tidal pools. In a few minutes they would be at Herbert Solomon’s houseboat, where they would spend the night. Steve was already tensing up at the prospect of seeing his father, and here’s Victoria busting his chops.
    He looked over at her. “I do something wrong?”
    “I hate it when you lecture me.”
    “All I said—”
    “The self-anointed senior partner dispensing wisdom. ‘All of us are capable of murder.’ Of all the fatuous clichés …”
    “Sorry. Only original thoughts from now on.”
    “I really care for you, Steve. You know that?”
    “Why do I think there’s a ‘but’ coming?”
    “But you’re overbearing and arrogant and egotistical… .”
    He decided to wait it out.
    “And your T-shirt is ridiculous.”
    “I don’t think this is about my shirt.” He’d bought the black cotton tee at Fast Buck Freddy’s on Duval Street. The shirt had a drawing of a man on a bar stool with the inscription: “Rehab Is for Quitters.” “So what’s really going on here, Vic?”
    “You stole my client.”
    “ Our client.”
    “Weren’t you listening? I’m going out on my own.”
    “C’mon, we have a big new case. Uncle Grif wants me on this.”
    “Don’t call him that. He’s not your uncle.”
    “As much as he’s yours.”
    “Infuriating. I left that one out. You’re overbearing, arrogant, egotistical, and infuriating.”
    “And you hate my shirt. But we’re cocounsel on Grif’s case. It’s what he wants.”
    She knew Steve was right, which only made her angrier. “All right. But it’s our last case. It’s the only way I can grow as a lawyer. And the only way to preserve our personal relationship. I want to be with you, but not in the courtroom.”
    “You’re sure about it? You really want to break up our firm?”
    “Most of the time, I love being with you. You can be warm and funny and caring. But at work, you drive me crazy.”
    “Really, really sure?”
    “Yes, dammit!”
    “Okay, then. Our last case. Win, lose, or mistrial.”
    “And I sit first chair.”
    “What?”
    “You heard me, Steve.”
    “Okay. Okay.”
    “You really accept it?” Sounding suspicious.
    ” ‘Course I do. You’re the boss. This is our swan song. After this, you fly solo. Get that autonomy you’re talking about.”
    “You respect my feelings on this?” Still not quite buying it.
    ” ‘Course I do. I can lay down a bunt for the team.”
    But that wasn’t what Steve was thinking. He was thinking that he’d square around to bunt, then pull back and smack the ball past the third baseman. Sure, he’d give Victoria