Tell No Lies (2 page)

"Gentlemen, will you excuse us?" Earl said finally. "I'd like to talk to Jack in private."

"We'll see you after the roast," one of them said, and they all laughed.

"Nervous?" Jack asked once the others had walked off.

"Nah, this will be a piece of cake compared to what those guys have done to me in the courtroom over the years." He picked up his drink.

"So what's up with the goon squad, anyway?" Jack asked, but when Earl's smile faded and he looked down, Jack knew he'd said the wrong thing.

Earl took a deep breath. "I'm going to make an announcement tonight, but I wanted to tell you beforehand."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Why do I feel the same way I did right before Newman laid me off?"

"You're not being fired, Jack."

"Oh, I know that. If I was, I'd hope you wouldn't make an announcement out of it."

Earl laughed; Jack didn't. They stood for a moment looking at each other and wondering who would speak next.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Jack asked.

Earl nodded. "I've accepted an offer to join Clark and Cavanaugh."

"I knew it."
Do the right thing, Jack
. "Well, congratulations," he said, cracking a smile and extending his hand.
 

Earl hesitated before shaking Jack's hand. "Thanks." He tilted his head slightly, studying Jack. "You know, I tried to talk to you this afternoon after Court. I wanted to tell you before now. But you were on the phone almost from the minute you came back to the office."

Jack remembered. Earl had stuck his head in his door several times; each time Jack had motioned to him:
two minutes
or
just a second
. But the phone had always rung again or someone else had come in, and they'd never had the chance to talk.
 

"Sorry about the 'goon squad' comment."

Earl dismissed it with a shrug of his shoulders.

"So, are you going to clue me in on why you're leaving?"

Earl looked down again at the tumbler in his hand; except for small chips of ice, it was empty. "It's time, Jack. Time to let someone else lead the troops."

"Bullshit. What's that supposed to mean?"

Earl touched Jack's sleeve. "Come on," he said, turning toward the bar. "You look like a thirsty man, and I need a refill."

"If only they knew what they were really congratulating you for," Jack said when they reached the bar, referring to the numerous interruptions along the way. He motioned to the bartender.

"Be with you in a minute, hon." She smiled, flashing a perfect set of white teeth at him.

Earl snickered. "I can't believe your wife lets you out of the house alone."

"I'm waiting."

"What can I say? I've been at the DA's office since right out of law school. It'll be nice to do something different." Jack was skeptical, and Earl knew it. "Look, they made me an offer that was too good to pass up. It'll be a nice, cushy job. I'll get to pick and choose the cases I want. I'll have a decent office for once in my life—big window, furniture that's not government issue, some real art on the walls . . ."

"Take it from me—the big window and nice furniture get old quickly." Earl laughed, but Jack continued, "And you get to pick and choose your cases now. When's the last time you tried one that wasn't high profile?"

The bartender approached and slapped two cocktail napkins on the bar. She leaned on her elbows, displaying her ample cleavage. "What'll it be, gentlemen?" she asked, eyeing Jack.

He smiled just enough to be polite. "Whiskey and Coke."

"Scotch and soda," Earl said, watching the exchange. To Jack, he said, "Try to put yourself in my shoes."

"I just don't buy what you're telling me. I think I can honestly say this is the first time in your life you haven't been convincing."

Earl sighed and looked around the room. "I'm fifty-six years old. I've already put two girls through college, I've got one in there now, and the youngest one will start next year. Not to mention the weddings I'll probably be expected to pay for. I want to do it all for them, and so far I've been able to. But it ain't cheap. Helen and I also want to travel, see some sights before we're too old to enjoy them. Frankly, I don't want to worry about the money anymore."

Jack watched his boss. The crow's feet around Earl's eyes were pronounced even when he wasn't smiling, and his silver flattop was peppered with short strands of muted black. Jack felt he knew Helen pretty well—as well as one gets to know his boss's wife—and he'd seen their girls grow into women during his eight years in the DA's office. But he still had the distinct sense there was a lot about this man he didn't know.

"Well, you're convincing me now," Jack said. "I'm beginning to wonder if I'm saving enough."

"Don't get me wrong, Jack. We're not in the poorhouse or anything. It's just that Helen's sacrificed a lot for my career, and I'd like to be able to spoil her a little in return." Earl grabbed the drinks and handed one to Jack, who had turned around to face the crowd. "I guess you could say I sold out, huh?"
 

"No, I wouldn't say that." Jack took a long swallow. The bartender had made it strong and the liquor burned his throat, but he still wished he'd ordered it straight. He needed it tonight.

"It won't be the same without you," he said.

"I was thinking the same thing."

"When will you leave?"

"I'll finish out my term, wait till after the election."

Jack leaned against the bar and looked out over the dwindling crowd. He tried to imagine who in the office could fill Earl's shoes. Although he had good relationships with most of the lawyers there, he couldn't picture any of them as his boss. For an instant he indulged in fantasy and imagined himself in the position, but just as quickly dismissed the idea as unrealistic. The effect of Earl's decision started to sink in. What if some lawyer from outside the office decided to run? That would be even more disruptive than having an insider take over. The office had a chemistry that Earl had nurtured during his years there, and the slightest change would upset it permanently.

Jack's thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Jenny coming through the revolving door. Even after all these years, the absolute blackness of her hair struck him. She had dark russet skin, and he remembered how, when he'd first met her, he'd thought maybe she was Hispanic. He'd been a little ashamed that he couldn't tell—he thought he should have been able to—but when she'd introduced herself— "Jennifer Dodson, Jenny's fine" —her all-American name had surprised him, and he'd never had the nerve to admit to her his ignorance.

Earl turned to see what had Jack's attention.

"A pretty girl enters the room and your eyes light up, don't they?" Earl said.

"No law against looking."

"True. But there's been plenty to look at all night, and you hadn't blinked till now."

Jack shrugged. "She's my friend, Earl." What more could he say? This evening
was
beginning to remind him a little too much of his days at Newman, when for a time his friendship with Jenny had been fodder for the office gossip mill.
 

"Speaking of pretty girls, where's Claire?"

"Home. We couldn't get a sitter; it's hard on a weeknight." He didn't add that they'd only started looking for one that night after Jack had called Claire from his car in a panic. "She sends her regrets." Jack's gaze followed Jenny as she joined a group of partners from Newman and ascended the escalator with them. He could feel Earl watching him.

"Can I give you a little bit of advice, Jack?"

Jack laughed. "You've never given me bad advice, so sure, go ahead."

"You have to get that woman of yours out more. It's not good for her to be cooped up at home so much with the kids."

Jack rolled his eyes. It was true that they'd started a family just after they were married, while still in law school, and the weight of that burden fell on Claire. But they'd both been infatuated with the idea, rationalizing that it would be better to have a child while still in school so Claire wouldn't be pregnant while interviewing or just starting a job. Michael was born late the following summer, after their second year of law school. Of course, once they had him, they couldn't wait to have another, so Claire ended up being pregnant anyway during her first year at Marshall & Hawes. She'd quit practicing after having several miscarriages, though, and shortly thereafter had landed the job at the law school teaching legal writing to first-year students. Jamie was born six years later. It had worked out well for her—she had a flexible schedule that allowed her to spend time with Michael, and later with Jamie—and it had worked out well for the school, as it was an untenured position.
 

"She still teaches three days a week. With that and her volunteering at the kids' schools, she's probably busier than I am." Earl looked doubtful. "Anyway," Jack continued, "no offense, but I think if she had a night out she'd rather have a nice Italian dinner on The Hill."

"I think I'd agree with her. I know the food would be better. Just take care of her, Jack. She's a good woman."

"I know that." Jack grinned. "That's why I convinced her to marry me."

Earl finished his drink in one swallow and set the glass on the bar. "Okay then, let's get upstairs."

Once in the ballroom, they split up. Earl moved to the front of the room, and Jack joined a group of prosecutors at a large table. It was all he could do not to reveal to the rest of them what he knew; he suspected Earl wouldn't have told any of them before letting Jack know. He was a little disconcerted, though, that Earl hadn't broken the news before tonight. But after years of watching him in a courtroom, Jack knew this method was consistent with Earl's way of doing things. Unlike Jack, who approached the judges, juries and even witnesses in a quiet, if open, way, Earl preferred the power that came with catching people off guard.

The dinner was slow, with numerous presentations and awards. Once Earl stood to speak, though, he mesmerized everyone with his commanding presence and dry sense of humor. Despite his small size, he filled the room.

After he accepted his award, told a few war stories and made a funny rebuttal to some of the jests made about him, Earl suddenly became humble. When his words started to suggest the conclusion of his speech, but before he actually said, "I'll be leaving the District Attorney's office at the end of my term to join Clark and Cavanaugh," a comprehending hum settled over the room, and Earl had to fight against choking on his emotions. Jack had the urge to stand and tell everyone that it was all a big hoax. Wasn't that Earl the consummate joker?

Instead, he sat with his arms crossed and watched Earl regain his composure as the hum gave way to applause and then organized chaos. If they'd planned on making any more announcements or speeches, the time had passed.

Jenny approached Jack's table as dessert was served and ignored. After hugging and congratulating him again on his trial, she sat in the chair next to him, abandoned only a minute before by another lawyer. She pushed an empty glass away and set her drink in front of her.

"Big news for you guys, huh?" she said to the group. To Jack: "You keep a good secret."

He was about to defend himself, but Maria Catalona, one of the newer prosecutors in his office, spoke first. "We didn't know. This is news to us, too."

Jack wasn't sure he would have been so forthright about their pre-announcement ignorance.

"We're placing bets on who will succeed him," said Frank Mann. "Care to make a wager?"

Jack suspected Frank was hedging bets on himself. He'd been at the DA's office longer than Jack, and Jack had heard through several sources that Frank was envious of Jack's close relationship with Earl. Frank probably viewed Earl's announcement as an opportunity to reassert his position in the office pecking order.

 "Come on, Dodson, who's your money on?" Frank urged.

"Well . . . I don't know," Jenny said, pretending to think. "Let's see." She looked at Jack and nudged his arm with her elbow. "I think Jack would make a great District Attorney."

Jack nudged her back. "Get out of here, Jenny. Go back to your stiff suits."

"Yeah, like we didn't see that coming from a mile away," said Jerry Clark, another prosecutor.

Jenny sipped her martini. Jack could tell she didn't like that they weren't taking her seriously, even though she hadn't meant to be serious, and that she was preparing her response.

"I mean it. I'm not just saying that because we're friends, although that would be an added benefit, wouldn't it? If I ever got in trouble." She laughed, and the others laughed with her. "Really, though, Jack is perfect for the job." She paused, loading her ammunition. "There's no question he has the trial skills for the position, but what makes—"

"Now, Dodson, how would you even know that?" Frank asked.

"Well,
Mr. Mann
, I'm aware he wins many more cases than he loses."
 

Jack's spirits dipped a bit; he'd thought he was the only one she referred to as "Mister" in quite that way.

"I mean, just look at his most recent stellar performance." Jenny winked at Jack.

"That he wins more than he loses doesn't mean anything," Frank snorted, "except maybe that he's smart enough to take a plea bargain on the difficult ones."

Jenny ignored him. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted . . ." She cleared her throat, took another drink, and glared at Frank. "What makes him perfect, in addition to his trial skills, is his administrative aptitude. After all, what's the most important job the DA has? Setting policy, knowing which cases to make a priority, and knowing when to play and when to fold." She lifted her glass and finished off her drink. "Don't you all agree?" she asked the others. They mumbled the obligatory assent. She was at the edge of drunkenness, and it was apparent to everyone there.
 

"Dodson, there's a gaping hole in your argument." Frank glanced at Jack and grinned at him, as if he thought they were teasing Jenny together. "Your friend's a dove. He even turned down the Barnard case."