Overkill(26)

“What’s happened to him?”

“To Up? What do you mean?”

“He’s all, I don’t know. Jowly. Scowly.” He made a face imitating Upton’s frown.

“He’s got a lot on his mind.”

“He’s always had a lot on his mind. He’s different.” He leaned back and propped himself on his elbows. “You know what I think? I think he resents me.”

“That’s ridiculous, Eban. He loves you. You’re his godson.”

“Yeah, yeah, but when the ‘incident’—as he refers to my being maliciously accused of a crime—happened and I was put on trial, he resented being upstaged by my defense attorney.”

“We retained him on Up’s recommendation.”

“Yes, but he ran the show. I took his advice, not Up’s. Up played second fiddle.”

“Because he isn’t a trial lawyer. He doesn’t practice criminal law.”

Eban chuckled. “No, but he practices law criminally.”

Sid wasn’t amused. “Nothing came of that bar association investigation. Let’s get back to the subject, which Up brought to my attention.”

Eban shrugged and motioned for Sid to proceed.

For the next few minutes, Eban listened as Sid explained Up’s warning about the possibility of future legal entanglements.

When he paused for breath, Eban said, “See? He’s the prophet of doom and gloom. Hasn’t he heard of double jeopardy? I have, and I didn’t even go to law school.”

Sid picked at another imaginary speck of lint. “He didn’t predict that you would be charged for the same crime, Eban. What he said was, this prosecutor could come after you for another.”

“Another crime?”

“The same incident. A different charge.”

“Like what?”

Sid cleared his throat. “At best, manslaughter. At worst, murder.”

Eban went perfectly still, then bolted off the bed. “I didn’t murder anybody. Nobody fuckin’ died! Why are you bothering me with this? I’ve already gone to prison for something that wasn’t my fault.”

“I know, son. But Up is of the opinion—”

“I don’t give a shit about Up’s opinion. He peaked a long time ago. He’s old and tired and he looks it. He’s—”

“Sit down.”

“—making life difficult, making up—”

“Sit down!”

“Don’t yell at me!”

But his father did yell, louder than before. “Sit down and listen to me!”

Resentfully, Eban plopped back down on the end of the bed.

Sid collected himself before resuming in an even voice. “Your godfather, our trusted advisor, has, for the entirety of your life, sought only our family’s best interest in all matters. He has suggested that you keep a low profile, that you remain above reproach and do nothing that incites censure. Your behavior should demonstrate—”

“Demonstrate to who?”

“Anybody. Everybody. You should demonstrate that you’ve learned a hard lesson about putting yourself in situations that can… go awry.”

“She didn’t die.”

“She didn’t live, either,” Sid snapped. He took another steadying breath. “Up cautioned me, and now I’m cautioning you, that your early release might motivate the prosecutor to attempt to persuade the family to take that girl off life support.”

“Her old man won’t do it. Remember him at the hearing? Not three months ago he swore that he would never pull the plug on her. Tears streaming down his face.” He dragged his fingers down his cheeks. “Boo hoo. As long as my daughter has a heartbeat—”

“I well remember that emotional scene, Eban. You don’t need to remind me.”

“Then what’s got your drawers in such a wad?”

“It’s not her father’s decision. It’s her ex-husband’s.”

“Oh, right. Bridger. But he adiosed. Washed his hands of it. Didn’t come to either my trial or the hearing. Couldn’t care less. Besides, I hear that he crashed and burned.”

“Up’s afraid—”

“Up. Up. I’ve had it up to here with Up.”

“There’s a new prosecutor on the case. Up is afraid she’ll make a run at Zach Bridger.”

“And talk him into changing his mind?”

“That’s Up’s concern, yes. If Bridger is persuaded, and if he chooses to override Doug Pratt’s wishes…” He raised his hands.

“The machines are turned off, she dies.” Eban flattened his hand against his bare chest. “They can’t blame me for that.”

His father picked at that damn invisible lint again. In a voice Eban could barely hear, he said, “A case could be made, Eban. It’s not without precedent.”

His father explained the legal ins and outs as they’d been laid out for him by Upton. As he listened, Eban lapsed into a simmering silence. When his father finished, he got up and walked over to Eban, laid a hand on his shoulder, and pressed.

“There are many hurdles to jump, a thousand ifs, endless debates, moral and legal. Probably nothing will ever come of it, but you needed to know of the threat so you could take care to avoid unwanted attention. A little circumspection would go a long way toward removing the, uh, taint of Rebecca Pratt.”