After Dark Read Free Page B

worry about. After all, he was quitting, and getting rid of his stash was an important first step.
    Packard was working on his final rationalization for doing a line when his receptionist buzzed him on the intercom. "Mr. Packard, a Mr. Deems is here to see you."
    Packard suddenly felt an urgent need to go to the men's room.
    "Mr. Packard?" the receptionist repeated.
    "Uh, yes, Shannon. I'll be right there."
    Bob Packard had never felt comfortable in Charlie Deems's presence, even when the two men were separated by the bulletproof glass through which they had been forced to communicate while the former drug dealer was on death row. The facts underlying Deems's conviction were enough to unsettle anyone. A man named Harold Shoe was trying to cut into Deems's territory. Two boys found Shoe's mutilated body in a Dumpster.
    According to the medical examiner, Shoe had died slowly over a long period of time. Packard had looked at the autopsy photos when he was reviewing the trial evidence and had not been able to eat for the rest of the day.
    Larry Hollins, twenty-eight, married, a union man who worked the swing shift, just happened to be driving by the Dumpster when Deems was depositing his bloody package. Hollins thought he'd seen a body, then convinced himself he was imagining things, until he read about the discovery of Shoe's corpse.
    Hollins could not make a positive ID from Deems's mug shot, but he was pretty sure he could identify the man he saw if he was in a lineup.
    Someone leaked Hollins's identity to the press and Deems disappeared for a few days. On one of those days, Hollins decided to drive his nine-year-old daughter to school so he could talk to her teacher. A pipe bomb attached to the underside of the car killed both of them.
    Packard looked longingly toward the bottom drawer, but decided it was better to face Deems with all his wits about him.
    Besides, Charlie would be in a good mood. Packard had just won his appeal for him. He was probably in the office to show his appreciation.
    When Packard walked into the reception area, Deems was reading a copy of Newsweek.
    "Charlie!" Packard said heartily, extending a hand. "It's great to see you."
    Charlie Deems looked up from the magazine. He was a man of average height, but thick through the chest and shoulders. A handsome man with dark, curly hair who reminded Packard a little of Warren Beatty. Deems's most engaging feature was his toothy grin, which was a bit goofy and put you at ease. Unless, that is, you had read the psychological profile in Deems's presentence report.
    "You're looking good, Bob," Deems said enthusiastically when they were seated in Packard's office.
    "Thanks, Charlie. You're looking pretty good yourself."
    "I should. There's plenty of time to work out in the joint. You can't imagine how many sit-ups and push-ups you can do when you're locked down for twenty-three hours a day."
    Deems was wearing a short-sleeve maroon shirt. He flexed his left biceps and winked.
    "Looking' good," Packard agreed. "So, what's up?"
    "Nothing much. I just wanted to drop by to thank you for winning my case."
    Packard shrugged modestly. "That's what you paid me for."
    "Well, you did great. I bet that cunt Griffen is pissed," Deems said with a laugh. "You seen her since the decision came down?"
    "Once, over at the courthouse, but I didn't bring up the case.
    No sense gloating."
    "Ah, Bob, you're too big hearted. Me, I'd love to have seen her face, because I know this case was personal for her. I mean, she wanted me dead. Now she ain't got nothin'."
    "Oh, I don't think it was personal, Charlie."
    "You don't?" Deems asked with a look of boyish curiosity.
    "No. I just think she was doing her job. Fortunately, I did mine better."
    "Yeah, well, you might be right, but I don't think so. I mulled this thing over while I was on the row. I had lots of time to think about her there. I'm convinced that bitch had it in for me, Bob."
    Deems had an odd look on his face that worried