Wed to the Witness Read Free

money.” The cop nodded toward the papers still in Jackson’s hand. “The purchaser’s signature is on the last page. We could clear up all this tonight if you’d give me a handwriting sample for comparison.”
    Jackson braced himself as he flipped through the pages. Even before he saw the signature, the sick feeling in his gut told him it would be close to his. It was. Nearly identical.
    He replaced the policy on the table. At this point, he would have advised any person in his same situation to keep his mouth shut and seek counsel.
    â€œThis isn’t my signature,” he said.
    â€œLooks like yours.”
    â€œIt’s not.” The anger already heating his blood intensified. “Apparently the man who purchased the policy disguised himself to look a great deal like me, too. Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to set me up.”
    Law cocked his head. “Why would someone do that, Mr. Colton?”
    â€œTo divert suspicion away from himself. Someone wants my uncle dead. It will be a lot easier to make that happen if your attention is focused on me.”
    â€œAn interesting theory.”
    â€œIt’s more than a theory, it’s the truth. I know, because I didn’t try to murder my uncle.” Jackson stared at Law, his jaw rigidly set while his mind worked. “There’s no way you stumbled onto that policy,” he said after a moment. “And you didn’t just happen to find out I’m the attorney of record on the Amalgamated case. Someone tossed all that into your lap. Suppose you tell me who that was? That will go a long way in telling me who’s behind this.”
    Law kept his gaze locked with Jackson’s. “I can’t give you information acquired during an interview or through investigative procedure. As an attorney, you know that.”
    â€œI also know if you were going to charge me with anything, you’d have done so by now.”
    â€œThat law degree of yours is coming in handy. You’re right, I’m not charging you with anything. Not yet.” Law plucked the policy off the table, refolded it. “You planning on leaving Prosperino anytime soon?”
    Jackson slid his hands into his pockets, then clenched them into fists. At this point, he wasn’t charged with anything, nor was he a material witness to a crime. Therefore, Law had no power to keep him in Prosperino. If he walked out the door, climbed into his Porsche andheaded back to San Diego tonight, the cop couldn’t do anything about it. Legally.
    Jackson exhaled a slow breath. All that could change later on. If he did leave town, Law might be able to use his departure as circumstantial evidence that he’d fled the jurisdiction after becoming aware he was a suspect in two attempted murders. Law had the taped proof he’d made his suspect aware of that fact.
    â€œI’m staying in Prosperino,” Jackson said evenly. He turned and headed for the door. Pausing, he looked across his shoulder. “I’ll be at my aunt and uncle’s until I find out who decided I should take the fall for this.”
    Law nodded while reaching for the tape recorder. “If your travel plans change, give me a call.”
    The anger he’d strapped in broke free as Jackson walked out of the building and into the adjacent dimly lit parking lot. He took exception at being accused of trying to murder a man he loved and respected. And he had one hell of a problem with being set up!
    He unlocked the Porsche, climbed inside; the engine roared to life when he twisted the key. Hands clenched on the steering wheel, he pulled out of the lot, swung in and out of evening traffic, then punched the Porsche into high gear when he reached open road.
    Dammit, he didn’t need this. He had stayed in Prosperino after his sister Liza’s wedding to decide if he wanted to continue working with his father. Now, here he was, contemplating a future that might involve