Best Defense Read Free Page A

developed the information he needed to keep him on top. I did, and he was. He paid a nice retainer that was sufficient to handle my mortgage, but not enough to keep food in the refrigerator and gas in the car. For that, I needed freelance work or for him to land a really big case that would allow me billable hours for days, perhaps weeks.
    I pulled into my driveway and turned the engine off. I sat there. If someone had come by, I’d have said I was listening to the radio, but really, I was just killing time. I was in the midst of my own premonition, the one that said if I went into the house, my mother would call. After a few minutes, I shrugged, gave up, and went in.
    Sure enough, the phone rang as soon as I opened the door. I scurried through to the kitchen and checked the caller ID. Yep. May as well get it over with.
    â€œHi, Mom. So good to hear from you.”
    â€œWhat’s up? What kind of trouble are you in?”
    â€œNone. Everything is fine. Why do you ask something like that?” Like I needed an answer to that one. I couldn’t remember any time in my life she hadn’t anticipated my problems, or thought she was anticipating them. Even my marriage to Sonny-the-Bunny didn’t escape her radar. A week before the ceremony, she told me he’d never be faithful to one woman, least of all, me . She figured any woman who dressed as casually as I did could never get a man. Of course, I refused to believe her, married him, and stayed with the jerk for two years, even after suspecting she was right. Walking in on him with one of his lady- friends proved it was time to leave.
    My mother said, “No real reason. I just had a feeling something was going on there. Are you sure you’re okay?”
    â€œYes, Mom. It’s been a quiet day.” Inspiration struck. “I spent the day with my head in the refrigerator. I had no idea it needed cleaning so badly. That’s probably what caused your feeling. Some of the stuff I pulled out of there might have been toxic. Maybe that’s why you thought I was in trouble.” I chuckled to reinforce my words, then swallowed it. If I laid it on too thick, she’d be sure to see through it.
    â€œI don’t think so,” she said, doubt resonating through the line. “It didn’t feel like that kind of premonition.”
    â€œWell, I can’t think of anything else. Maybe it was something you ate.”
    â€œFunny. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a dozen times. Funny, you are not. Now, if you’re sure you’re all right, I’ll hang up. I have to get dressed. I have a date tonight. Bye, dear.”
    â€œGood-bye, Mom. Have a nice time.” Her words registered with a bang. “A date? Who—” I stopped because I was speaking into a dead phone.
    A date? Well, why not? My mother was an attractive woman who stayed single after my father died when I was young. She worked hard to raise my brother and me. Oh, she went out with a few men, but none of them caught her fancy. She’d say, “After your dad, no man measures up.” So I was sure that whomever she was dating would soon be history.
    The refrigerator put up a hardy fight, but finally succumbed to my superior intellect and power. Well, that and a full bottle of Lysol. When I finished, the green was gone, my refrigerator smelled fresh and clean, and I had burned enough daylight to consider what to have for dinner.
    The phone rang. When I checked the caller ID, the number was not familiar. “Hello.”
    â€œMs. Bowman,” a man said in a rushed voice. “This is John Hammonds. I need your help.”
    â€œSlow down. Who’d you say you are?”
    â€œJohn Hammonds. You know my wife, Sabrina. That’s why I’m calling. I need your help.”
    I lowered the phone and stared at the earpiece, then put it back into speaking position. “Did you say you need my help?”
    â€œYes. Can you come