By Phillip M. Margolin
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Reynolds was captivated by Griffen's intellect. He considered her to be one of the few people who were his equal in the courtroom. But more than that, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Though he had spoken to her before in court as an adversary, it had taken all his nerve to approach Abbie in the Supreme Court chambers to thank her for standing up to Justice Pope, but her defense of his honor thrilled him and had given him the courage to speak. Reynolds was dressed for bed, but he was not tired.
Oh, right. I agree with that," Deems said reasonably. "Water under the bridge. No, Bob, I just want to get on with my life. " Packard asked uneasily. " "Well, it seems to me that you won my appeal pretty easily. " Deems shook his head. "That's not the way I see it. And that's not just my opinion. There's a lot of guys in the joint that know their law. I asked 'em about the appeal. They all knew you'd win. Said it was a cake-walk. " "That's not how it works, Charlie," Packard said, trying to convince himself that this would be like any business discussion between two civilized and rational men.
That seemed to be increasing recently. Packard took a deep breath and tried to calm down. He rotated his neck and shrugged his shoulders to work out the tension. If the white lady was the problem, he would just have to stop. It was that simple. Cocaine was not a necessity. He could take it or leave it and he would just have to leave it. Once his current supply ran out, there would be no more. Packard felt better now that his problem was solved. He put away the ledgers and picked up a case he needed to read in order to prepare a pretrial motion that was due in two days.