Night Watch (Kendra Michaels #4)(77)

Powers turned back. He looked as if he was about to say something, but then caught himself.

Kendra shook her head. “You know what else isn’t going to disappear? The fact that you knocked your ex-wife around. You did some jail time for that, didn’t you? How is it going to play at your sentencing hearing after you’ve been convicted of attacking another woman? Come on, Powers,” she said softly. “The smartest thing you can do for yourself is tell us who hired you. If you had a lawyer who was really representing you, he would tell you the same thing.”

Powers’s resolve was obviously weakening. “Shit,” he muttered.

Jessie nodded. “Do yourself a favor. Get a new lawyer, any lawyer. Make sure he or she is working for you and no one else.”

Kendra pulled the rubber band from the rolled-up sketch and unfurled it in front of Powers’s face.

Instant recognition.

The look that flashed across his face made it obvious that he knew the man in the sketch. Kendra couldn’t miss the reaction, and she tried to read his expression.

Fear?

Maybe. Or perhaps he was just nervous that they’d made a link between him and this man.

Jessie had obviously read his reaction, too. “You know him.”

“The hell I do.”

“You have the worst poker face in the history of the world,” Kendra said. “Give us a name to go with this picture.”

“I can’t help you.”

“Sure you can,” Jessie said. “Just a name. We’ll try to leave you out of it.”

“Is this the man you’re protecting?” Kendra asked. “It’s time that you started protecting yourself.”

“That’s what I’m doing.” Powers was sweating, and the bedside heart monitor showed that his pulse had quickened.

“You’re a lucky man,” Kendra said. “Your liver was failing a few years ago. You were handed a death sentence.”

He moistened his lips. “I beat it.”

“You had help,” Jessie said.

“Clean living. Diet and exercise.”

“Bullshit,” Jessie said.

Kendra shook the sketch. “Just a name. It’s information that can’t be traced back to you.”

He scowled. “Why should I help you?”

Kendra shrugged. “As the victim of your attack, my testimony can help you or hurt you. You can be seen as a woman-hating monster or someone who was acting under duress. It could mean the difference between years of your life in prison.”

There was sudden panic in his face. “You don’t understand. I’d never survive prison.”

“Really? Because that’s where you’ll end up. And are you sure you’d survive even if you didn’t go to prison? A man who knows what you know will never be safe. You have big problems.”

He moistened his lips. “And you’re saying you’d promise to help me with them?”

It was a break in the wall. “Give me a chance,” Kendra said. “I’ll help you any way I can, if you’ll just give me a name. You’re not the one we’re after.”

“Look, I told you. I never meant to really hurt you. I was just supposed to deliver you. He needed you for something.”

Kendra leaned forward. “He?”

Powers was frowning, his gaze clinging desperately to her face. “If I help you … How do I know you’ll really—”

The door flew open, and attorney Peter Hutchinson strode quickly into the room. “This conversation is over. Ladies, I must ask you to leave.”

“Just a friendly chat,” Kendra said.

Hutchinson stepped between them and his client. “I’m afraid it was nothing of the sort.”

“Too bad you can’t muzzle us the way you do your client,” Jessie said.

“I don’t believe I’ve been altogether successful in impressing upon my client the need for absolute silence.” He glanced back at Powers. “That was your voice I heard as I walked in here, wasn’t it?”

Powers’s hand was shaking as he reached for a tomato-juice box on the table next to him. “I was telling them to get the hell out.”

Hutchinson gave him a skeptical look. “From now on, I’ll do all the talking for you. Understand?”

Powers played with his straw, stirring the thick juice, avoiding looking at them. “Sure.”

“No problem,” Kendra said. “We’d rather talk to your real client anyway. You know, the one pulling your strings?”

Hutchinson flashed his toothy smile. “My loyalties lie exclusively with Mr. Powers. And I must ask you to respect his wishes by staying away.”

“His wishes … Or yours?”

“Mr. Powers,” Hutchinson prompted his client. “Tell her.”

Powers glanced up from toying with his straw to meet Kendra’s eyes. “My wishes.”

“You see?” Hutchinson said. “Good day, Ms. Michaels.”

Powers lifted his hand and gave Kendra a weak wave. “You heard the man. Don’t bother coming back.”

Kendra studied him for a moment. “Fine. See you at your trial.”

Kendra and Jessie left the room and started down the corridor toward the elevator.