Let Me Call You Sweetheart Read Free Page A

reasons had passed him over for promotion. It had cost her her life. Now he has to pay, Kerry thought.
It was one o'clock before she was satisfied that she had laid out all the questions she wanted to ask, all the points she wanted to make.
Wearily she climbed the stairs to the second floor. She glanced in on a peacefully sleeping Robin, pulled the covers tighter around her, then went across the hallway to her own room.
Five minutes later, her face washed, teeth brushed, clad in her favorite nightshirt, she snuggled down into the queen-sized brass bed that she had bought in a tag sale after Bob left. She had changed all the furniture in the master bedroom. It had been impossible to live with the old things, to look at his dresser, his night table, to see the empty pillow on his side of the bed.
The shade was only partially drawn, and by the faint light from the lamp on the post by the driveway, she could see that a steady rain had begun to fall.
Well, the great weather couldn't last forever, she thought, grateful that at least it was not as cold as predicted, that the rain would not change to sleet. She closed her eyes willing her mind to stop churning, wondering why she felt so uneasy.
She woke at five, then managed to doze off until six. It was in that hour the dream came to her for the first time.
She saw herself in the waiting room of a doctor's office. There was a woman lying on the floor, her large, unfocused eyes staring into nothingness. A cloud of dark hair framed the petulant beauty of her face. A knotted cord was twisted around her neck.
Then as Kerry watched, the woman got up, removed the cord from her neck and went over to the receptionist to make an appointment.
During the evening it crossed Robert Kinellen's mind to call and see how Robin had made out at the doctor's, but the thought had come and gone without being acted on. His father-in-law and the law firm's senior partner, Anthony Bartlett, had taken the unusual step of appearing at the Kinellens' house after dinner to discuss strategy in the upcoming income tax evasion trial of James Forest Weeks, the firm's most important--and controversial- - client.
Weeks, a multimillion-dollar real estate developer and entrepreneur, had become something of a public figure in New York and New Jersey during the past three decades. A heavy contributor to political campaigns, a prominent donor to numerous charities, he was also the subject of constant rumors about inside deals and influence peddling, and was rumored to have connections with known mobsters.
The U.S. attorney general's office had been trying to pin something on Weeks for years, and it had been the financially rewarding job of Bartlett and Kinellen to represent him during those past investigations. Until now, the Feds had always fallen short of enough evidence for a solid indictment.
"This time Jimmy is in serious trouble," Anthony Bartlett reminded his son-in-law as they sat across from each other in the study of the Kinellen home in Englewood Cliffs. He sipped a brandy. "Which of course means we're in serious trouble with him."
In the ten years since Bob had joined the firm, he had seen it become almost an extension of Weeks Enterprises, so closely were they entwined. In fact, without Jimmy's vast business empire, they would be left with only a handful of minor clients, and with billings inadequate to maintain the firm's operations. They both knew that if Jimmy were to be found guilty, Bartlett and Kinellen as a viable law firm would be finished.
"Barney's the one I worry about," Bob said quietly. Barney Haskell was Jimmy Weeks' chief accountant and codefendant in the current case. They both knew intense pressure was being put on him to turn government witness in exchange for a plea bargain.
Anthony Bartlett nodded. "Agreed."
"And for more than one reason," Bob continued. I told you about the accident in New York? And that Robin was treated by a plastic surgeon?"
"Yes. How is she doing?"
"She'll be all