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he do?  He breaks himself out of jail, gets clean away with it, and then, instead of getting lost somewhere and having a life, he comes back.  Like it was all just a momentary impulse.  And here I am, wanting to shake him, and tell him he should have kept on going.”

“Are you feeling guilty?” Carson asked.  “Do you think he came back so as not to disappoint you.”

“That may part of it,” Lily admitted.  “I’m afraid he thinks I’m going to pull a miracle out of my bonnet to save him.  And what if I can’t?”

Carson gave her a crooked little smile.  “There are no guarantees in this line of work, my girl, you know that.  But it seems to me, you’ve already pulled a couple miracles out already -- Morales, Trent.”

She chuckled dryly.  “You mean, I’ve used up my quota?”

“I mean -- are you so sure there’s not another little one left to find?”

“Well, if there is, it’s sure well hidden.  And I don’t want to see Jason go down because I wasn’t good enough to find it.”

“You have your whole case to put on,” her father said.  “If I were you, I wouldn’t be giving up just yet.”

“Hello,” a voice behind them interrupted.

Lily twisted around in her seat.  Tom Lickliter was standing behind her.  He had his arm around the shoulder of one boy who looked to be about twelve, and was holding the hand of another boy of perhaps ten.

“Hello,” she said.  “Did John Henry actually give you a day off?”

“Not exactly,” he teased.  “He told me I should keep an eye on you.”

Lily chuckled.  “Always knew he was a smart man.”  She remembered her father suddenly, and jumped up to turn his wheelchair.  “Dad, this is Tom Lickliter, the new DP at the house.”

Carson Burns eyed the attorney.  “Nice to know there’s some fresh blood over there,” he said.  “It’s been lacking ever since my daughter moved over.”  He twisted the left side of his mouth into a grin and thrust out his left hand, which Tom took and shook firmly in both of his.

“It’s an honor, sir,” the fresh blood said.  The legend that was Carson Burns stretched far beyond Jackson County.  Tom gestured to his children.  “These are my boys,” he declared.  “Ryan and Evan.”

The boys were polite.  They said hello, but they didn’t smile at the strangers.

“Is this your first visit to Totem Point?” Lily asked them.  The boys nodded.  “What do you think of it?”

“It’s neat,” Ryan replied.  “All this Indian stuff in one place.”

“Yeah, neat,” Evan echoed.

“We haven’t had much time to explore our new community,” Tom said.  “Moved in, school started, the trial began, bam, bam, bam -- so we’re making a day of it.”  He looked out across the Strait.  “You sure do get an extraordinary perspective from here, don’t you?  A real understanding of the balance between man and nature, power and weakness.”

“One of our favorite places,” Lily murmured with a little twinkle in her eye, “for just that reason.”

“Daughter, behave yourself,” Carson admonished.

Tom laughed.  “I’m sure she didn’t mean that in an adversarial way.”

“Of course she did,” Carson declared.

“Of course she did,” Lily echoed, playing with him now.  “I’ll take any advantage I can get.”

“You’ve already got most of it, I’m afraid,” Tom said.  “What your client did was brilliant.”

“Brilliant?”

“Absolutely.  That little trick of his has turned the whole community around.  He’s a hero now.  Right up there with Robin Hood.  Do you think there’s a jury in the world that would convict Robin Hood?”

Lily smiled.  “Let’s hope not,” she said.

“Dad, can we go now?” the boys wanted to know.

“Where to?” he asked.

“Food,” they replied, already leading him away by the hand, toward the kiosks from which tantalizing smells were intentionally wafting.

“See you tomorrow, then, I guess,” he said over his shoulder.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Lily said, watching them as they went.

Carson was watching, too.  “Now that’s an interesting young man,” he observes.  “Or haven’t you noticed?”

“Never mind that.  Do you think that’s what it was all about?”

“That your client could be a lot smarter than you’ve given him credit for?”

“That he knew exactly what he was doing?”

“Of course I do.  But do I think that means he predicted the reaction of the community?  I don’t know.  Why don’t you ask him?”

. . .

“I don’t know what I was thinking when I left,” Jason said in response to Lily’s question.  “I was just trying to get my head clear.  I sure couldn’t do that in this hole of a place.”

It was an unplanned visit, on a Sunday afternoon.  “But did you realize what a stir coming back would cause in the community?” Lily pressed.  “What a difference it would make?”

Jason shrugged.  “I guess I never thought that much about it,” he replied.  “Even if I did, I figured people would think I was even guiltier.  And what’s the difference between guilty and guiltier?”

Fifteen minutes later, Lily and Dancer were headed back to Morgan Hill.

“I get where you’re trying to go,” the man from Spokane said.  “But I don’t think he’s going to give you the answer you’re looking for.”

“Because he can’t -- or because he won’t?” Lily asked, because she had come to respect the quiet man beside her a great deal.

“That’s a good question,” he replied.

. . .

Not counting the interruption, the Lightfoot trial was entering its third week, and tomorrow, Lily would begin the case for the defense.

Dinner was over, and Lily, Carson and Dancer were in the library -- the men watching a football game, and Lily ensconced behind her father’s desk, poring over every detail of the prosecution’s presentation, every word of testimony, every exhibit, every report, every piece of evidence.

“Planning on burning the midnight oil?” Carson asked, signaling that the football game was over.

“Just want to make sure I haven’t missed anything,” she said.

“Well, I think a good night’s sleep will serve you better than staying up and fretting all night.”

“I just want to make sure I’m not missing anything,”

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