Thicker Than Water Read Online Free PDF

look, Mr. Kincaid,” Susan said, drawing him back.
    â€œLouis. It’s Louis, okay?”
    She stared at him. He had the feeling he wasn’t going to be invited to call her Susan any time soon. He glanced at the gold band on her left hand and found himself wondering what Mr. Outlaw called her. Somehow she didn’t look like she’d answer to Sue or Susie.
    â€œI’ve had two days—just two days—to get up to speed on Jack Cade’s case,” she said. “I can’t be wasting time worrying about you or anyone else getting in my way.”
    â€œGetting in your way?” Louis said. “I would think you’d welcome the help.”
    â€œI don’t need help,” she said evenly.
    â€œI never saw a public defender that didn’t need help.”
    She was staring at him again, daggers this time, like she was sizing him up—age, experience—and finding him lacking. It irritated the hell out of him, but he wasn’t about to take the bait.
    â€œHow long have you been in the PI business?” she asked finally.
    â€œAlmost a year,” he said.
    She gave a short scornful laugh, reaching in her briefcase for something.
    â€œI was a cop before this,” he said. Probably too quickly.
    She froze, then slowly shook her head. “I should have known,” she said.
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?”
    â€œIt’s written all over you.”
    â€œBullshit.” Now he was getting pissed.
    She waved a hand of dismissal. “The walk, the talk. The eyes. Yeah, especially your eyes.”
    She snapped the briefcase closed and he realized she was getting ready to leave. He didn’t want her to leave; he needed her to tell him things about Jack Cade. Like a good reason why he should take his case.
    â€œDo you think your client is innocent?” Louis asked.
    Susan was half out of the chair and she leveled her eyes at him and slowly sat back down.
    â€œLawyers have to believe their clients,” she said.
    â€œNo they don’t. They just have to believe in the law.”
    â€œNow you’re sounding like a lawyer,” she said.
    He thought about telling her that he was pre-law in college, but there was no way it wouldn’t sound like chest-beating at this point.
    â€œBut you’re a cop, with a cop brain,” she added. She rose, smoothing back the wayward strand of hair again. She was standing in that back light again and he had to squint to look up at her. She was tall, maybe five-nine, with a generous body that he suspected she thought boxy dark suits could hide.
    â€œWhich means what?” he asked.
    â€œWhich means that you think if he is arrested he must surely be guilty. And like the rest of the scum who make cops’ lives miserable, he should probably rot in hell.”
    â€œI haven’t even decided to take this case,” he said.
    She slipped the strap of her purse over the shoulder of her red suit. “Well, I can’t stop Ronnie Cade from hiring you,” she said. “Just don’t get in my way.”
    She turned, her heels clicking on the terrazzo floor as she headed out the door. He picked up the mug and took a drink, grimacing at the taste of the muddy coffee.
    It hit him then that she was right.
    His first impression of Jack Cade had been that he was probably guilty. Not just of the rape and murder of the girl twenty years ago but also of shooting Spencer Duvall.
    He had been a cop for only three years, but it had left its mark, making him turn a deaf ear to the protests of dirtbags as he shoved them into the backs of patrol cars. They were thieves, druggies, wife-beaters and murderers. The harmless ones were liars who cut corners, and the worst ones were sociopaths who cut their evil swathes through other people’s lives. But they were all dirtbags who broke the law and still got a good night’s sleep afterward. And yeah, every single one of them was innocent.
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