The Professor (McMurtrie and Drake Legal Thrillers #1)(40)

“There’s no sound in the video.” Dawn said, breaking the silence that had engulfed the apartment when Rick had stopped talking. “You said something back, didn’t you?”

“I told him to go f*ck himself,” Rick said, looking sheepish. “The next day, Jameson Tyler called and terminated my contract with Jones & Butler. Said that the firm was embarrassed by the incident, and that they didn’t have room for a hothead who couldn’t control his emotions. I tried to get another job somewhere else, but no one would touch me. Hanging up a shingle was the last resort, in case you were wondering.”

Dawn ate a chip and looked at her plate, trying to take it all in.

“Have you talked to the Professor since?”

“Just once,” Rick said, shaking his head. “When he referred me Ruth Ann’s case.”

“It’s a good case, isn’t it?”

Rick shrugged. “It’s not a guaranteed win, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But he could’ve referred it to anyone, right?”

Rick nodded. “Sure. What’s your point? Oh, let me guess. You took Evidence from the Professor and worship the ground he walks on like everyone else.”

Dawn’s face turned pale. “I... uh... I did have Evidence with him, and...”

Something’s wrong, Rick thought. Dawn looked visibly upset, like she might cry.

“... I did like him,” Dawn continued. “I thought he was a good teacher.”

She’s just worried you’re going to be mad at her for liking him, Rick realized, feeling guilty.

“No worries,” Rick quickly recovered. “He was a good teacher.” For a moment, he paused. When he spoke again, his words were soft, just above a whisper.

“Can I ask you a question?” Don’t do this, Rick tried to tell himself, but it was no use.

“Sure.”

“Why do you do it? Working for me, I mean. You’re smart, beautiful. Grades are fantastic. You could be working for someone who could afford to pay you. Why this job? Why me?”

Dawn looked up, and her face was even paler than before.

You moron, Rick thought. Can’t you just enjoy a good thing?

“Like I said when we first met. I wanted to see the life of a plaintiff’s lawyer to get a broad view before making any long-range career choices. I think this is good for me. And I’m enjoying it. I’ve already done more for you this week than I did all last summer clerking for Tomkins & Fisher.”

“That’s a good group,” Rick said.

“I like working for you better,” Dawn said. The color had returned to her face, and her eyes radiated with warmth.

“I like it too,” Rick said, holding his fist out, which she nudged with her own.



Dawn watched from the window as Rick’s Saturn pulled out of the complex. “I have to tell him,” she whispered, looking down at the check she held in her hand. It came in the mail today and was for the agreed amount, written from what must be a personal checking account. At the top left corner was a Tuscaloosa address above which in bold letters was his name. “Thomas J. McMurtrie.”

Dawn closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cold glass. “I have to.”





28


When Jameson Tyler walked in the door of his two-story townhouse in Homewood, he was too wired to go to sleep. The whole drive home he kept thinking of the young lady that accompanied Rick Drake to the Ultron Plant. Dawn Murphy...

He knew he had seen the girl before, and her name had tickled a memory. But it can’t be, he kept telling himself. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling, and a few minutes later, he pulled up the folder entitled “Professor Investigation” on his computer. Then he clicked on the photographs and waited for confirmation.

Well, I’ll be damned, he thought, smiling, as the first photograph popped up on the flat screen. It can be.

Jameson had never met “Dawn” before, but he definitely knew who she was. As he looked at her perfectly shaped breasts poking through the wet T-shirt, he couldn’t help but laugh out loud. How in the hell did she end up working for Rick Drake? Jameson shook his head, but his gut immediately told him the answer. Same way Drake ended up with the Wilcox case. The Professor.

“You can’t take back your sins, Tom,” Jameson laughed as he continued to admire Dawn Murphy’s rain-soaked body. Referring Drake a case he can’t handle and getting your paramour a new job isn’t going to help them. Jameson clicked off the computer and began to whistle as he walked down the hall to fix himself a drink.

It’s just going to make my life easier.





29


As the sun set over Henshaw County, Rick stood in the middle of the intersection of Limestone Bottom Road and Highway 82, drinking a twenty-ounce Sun Drop and waiting for the verdict. Next to him, a white-bearded man with a Black Stetson hat, also holding a Sun Drop, pointed east. “With the Honda right here when it started its turn and the rig a hundred yards out–” the man had placed an orange cone a hundred yards down the shoulder of the road “–the bottom line is...”

Rick held his breath. He was paying two thousand dollars for this opinion.

“... it’s just impossible to tell whether the driver of the Honda should’ve seen the rig before starting his turn.”