Tell No Lies
Authors: Julie Compton
Tags: #St. Louis, #Attorney, #Murder, #Psychological Fiction, #Public Prosecutors, #Fiction, #Suspense, #thriller, #Adultery, #Legal Thriller, #Death Penalty, #Family Drama, #Prosecutor
Table of Contents
TELL NO LIES
JULIE COMPTON
Praise for TELL NO LIES
"Compton’s debut is a taut, tense cautionary tale complete with courtroom drama and a surprise ending."
Kirkus Reviews
(starred review)
Tell No Lies
is "an absorbing account of an honourable man gradually yielding to multiple temptations," and "a strong debut from a writer who knows her law, and more importantly, can depict the ebb and flow of relationships, the conflict between love and desire and the irresistible urge to self-destruct of a 'man who has everything'."
Guardian
(UK)
"
Tell No Lies
bears comparison to Turow's landmark 1987 debut, which has launched numerous imitations if few equals. The prose is solid, the plotting assured, and the characters believable. There's even a marvelous surprise ending."
Fort Myers
News-Press
"A remarkably lucid writer . . . Verdict: Suspenseful and genuinely sexy."
Orlando Magazine
"Compton proves she has real storytelling skills.
Tell No Lies
' final twist is as stunning as that classic surprise in Scott Turow's
Presumed Innocent
."
South Florida
Sun-Sentinel
"A real seat-edge thriller packed with the heady ingredients of power, passion, lies, lust and disaster."
Peterborough Evening Telegraph
(UK)
"A promising debut."
Booklist
"Readers will like this debut by a practicing attorney for its fluid prose and insight into the legal system."
Library Journal
Compton "does better in getting inside the mind of males than most male writers do in describing the thinking of females."
St. Louis Post-Dispatch
"Compton adds a very sexy pair of legs to Scott Turow legal thriller territory."
Daily Mirror
(UK)
"[A]n excellent psychological thriller and an extremely polished debut. I will watch Julie Compton's new career with interest . . ."
Trashionista
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
TELL NO LIES. Copyright © 2012 by Julie Compton.
No part of this book may be used, reproduced in any manner whatsoever, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author.
All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Fresh Fork Publishing.
Cover photograph © Plush Studios/Getty Images
Cover design © Jessie Compton
Jack Hilliard's acceptance speech in chapter thirteen is based, in part, upon the U.S. Supreme Court case of
Berger v. United States
, 295 U.S. 78 (1935).
ISBN-13: 978-0-9887932-0-0
First published in February 2008 in the United Kingdom by Pan Books, an imprint of Pan Macmillan Ltd.
First U.S. Edition published in May 2008 by Minotaur Books, an imprint of St. Martin's Press.
In memory of Hyman and LaVerne Grossman
Good will, like a good name, is got by many actions, and lost by one.
—LORD FRANCIS JEFFREY
PART 1
SPRING
CHAPTER ONE
JACK DROVE HIS car a little too fast out of the parking garage, his tires screaming as he rounded the coiled curves of the down ramp. He fumbled with the radio, looking for a song to match his upbeat mood, all the while keeping his eyes on the ramp and his left hand on the steering wheel. A slight grin graced his face, though he wasn't even aware of it.
That morning, the jury had returned a verdict in the most publicized murder case he had ever prosecuted. The case had been hard fought for two weeks, and he had worried about the outcome until the very end—even after his boss, Earl, came to hear closing arguments, complimenting him afterward, and even after a few of the jurors smiled at him on their way back to the jury box, just before the verdict of guilty was read. But Earl's belief that juries loved Jack Hilliard proved true again.
He'd called Claire as soon as he returned to his office. She'd listened and laughed with him as she always did, asking certain questions that only another lawyer would know to ask. Before they hung up, Jack announced that, for the first time in weeks, he'd be home in time for dinner.
Now he was already past the Innerbelt, far enough out of the city to smell the suburbs, fragrant with freshly cut grass and the overgrown lilac bushes that bloomed untamed near the off-ramp into Clayton. When his cell phone rang, he answered without bothering to look at the caller ID.
"Hiya, babe."
"Gosh, Jack, I never knew you felt that way about me."
Jack felt his face redden. "I thought you were Claire." Even though he'd known Jenny Dodson for almost nine years, and he'd reached the conclusion early on that she talked this way to everyone, her flirtatiousness still unsettled him at times.
"Obviously." She laughed. "Hey,
Mister Hilliard
," she said then, speaking his surname in the intimate tone she used to transform it into her own pet name for him, "I hear you won your case. Congratulations."
He smiled. "I did. How'd you hear?"
"Are you kidding? It was the top story on the five o'clock news. You're famous again."
"Yeah, so what am I doing hanging out with the likes of you?" he said, laughing.
"I won't dignify that with a response. Will I see you tonight? I'll buy you a drink to celebrate."
"Tonight?" But as soon as he said it, he remembered. The bar association was having its annual awards dinner, and Earl, the St. Louis District Attorney for more than thirty years, was to receive an award for his dedication to public service.
"Damn, I completely forgot about it." Earl hadn't mentioned it after the trial, Jack knew, because he hadn't wanted to take away from Jack's moment of victory. One of the many reasons Earl was a great boss, and also one of the reasons Jack had to attend the dinner.
"Were you heading home?" Jenny asked.
"Yeah." He sighed. "But I'll be there. Why are you going?"
"You forget easily, Jack," she chided. "Not every lawyer in town has had the good fortune to jump ship from a big firm to the security of the DA's office. I still have to fish if I want to eat. It always helps to mingle a little with the other sharks in town."
Both knew he hadn't exactly "jumped ship" from Newman, Norton & Levine. It was more like he'd been thrown overboard. But he
had
landed a plum job. Although he shared the title of Assistant District Attorney with twenty-four other lawyers, only Jack was seen as Earl Scanlon's protégé.
"Should be an interesting night," Jack said. "I'm sure his old-time bar association buddies plan to roast him." His mind drifted to the new logistics for the evening. "Listen, I'd better hang up and call Claire. She'll have to find a sitter. I'll see you tonight, okay?"
"Don't forget, first drink's on me. I'll see you tonight,
babe
."
She hung up before he could respond, and he just laughed, knowing she'd be pleased with herself for having found a way to tease him one more time about his earlier mistake.
The hotel was near the Mississippi riverfront in the heart of St. Louis. The evening was damp but warm for late April, so Jack left his car in the garage near the courthouse and walked the nine blocks to the hotel. The air was thick with humidity, and he smelled the pungent scent of the river. The rush hour traffic had begun to dissipate, and the few cars still leaving the city drove too fast down Market Street. The road was wet from an earlier shower; tires sprayed water as they rolled through puddles on the way to the highway entrance.
In the hotel, he searched for Earl. Most of the lawyers attending the event were still in the lobby, scattered like orbiting moons around the center bar, which served as their planet. It was a local businessman's hotel; the reservations and check-in desk had been strategically placed at the top of the escalator on the second floor, leaving room on the main level for happy hour and even a small dance club with its own entrance from Fourth Street.
Jack spotted his boss near the escalator, leaning against a large, shoulder-height marble pedestal that had an arrangement of exotic flowers on top. Earl stood only about five foot six, and the towering structure made him appear even smaller. He was surrounded by a group of defense lawyers from Clark & Cavanaugh. All of them were laughing.
"There's my man!" Earl said, setting his drink on the pedestal. He grabbed Jack's right hand and patted him on the back. To the others, he said, "Jack Hilliard, gentlemen. Are you all familiar with each other?"
Was he familiar with them? Was Earl crazy? Two of the four lawyers standing with Earl were among the best-known criminal defense attorneys in the city, and Jack had tried cases against them on more than one occasion. The other two he recognized as senior associates from the same firm. They often sat at the defense table, second chairing cases. It was not unusual for the bigger defense firms to put two or sometimes three lawyers on a case. The attorneys in the DA's office liked to joke that defense attorneys were only half as smart as the opposition, hence the reason there were always at least two of them.
"Yes, of course," Jack answered politely. "Good to see you again." He shook their hands as they congratulated him on the outcome of the trial.
The truth was, Jack couldn't wait to get away from this group in their custom made suits and Rolex watches. One of the reasons he loved being a prosecutor was that it demanded more substance and less style. He liked being an average Joe; it felt true, as if the outside finally fit the inside. When he had practiced at Newman, he'd always been on edge about how he looked, what clothes he wore. He didn't worry about that stuff anymore. As long as he wore a suit in the courtroom—sometimes even a sport coat was acceptable—it didn't matter whose name was on the inside label.
He listened to the banter between them, feigning interest, but he began to suspect he'd interrupted something more than a cocktail conversation. What was Earl doing with these guys, anyway? They talked to Earl as if he was one of them, and Earl responded in kind. Jack's stomach flipped, the way it did when he feared he'd overlooked a key piece of evidence or forgotten to ask an important question. He felt as though everyone else knew something he didn't.