Page 128 of The Devil's Advocate

His thumb covered the call button again, then rested upon it gently. Francis wiped his face and stared at the phone.

‘You should get out, get away from here,’ said Francis.

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ said Harry. ‘I’ve got a bottle of bourbon in here that I haven’t paid for, and no one else to drink it with but you.’

‘I can’t go on being …’ began Francis, then bit his lower lip. As he panted, sweat blew off his lips in a tiny shower.

He grunted, moaned, and forced it out.

‘I don’t want to be in a world without my girls,’ he said.

‘There’s no getting over this kind of pain. It’s huge right now. It’s in your face every minute, every second. But it won’t stay that way. It will be there, always, but you won’t notice it every day.’

Harry stayed quiet and listened to the big man crying. Harry poured him another.

Francis started nodding his head, coming out of it. He took another drink. Got his breath. But he definitely wasn’t used to the bourbon.

‘I think I’m going to puke,’ said Francis. With the phone still in his hand, he pulled the door handle. The driver’s door cracked open.

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

EDDIE

I could taste blood in my mouth. It startled me for a second. Then I realized I’d bitten through my lip. The sting only came with the realization. At first, I’d thought Edwards was going to push the button, but then he’d taken the glass on the dash, drunk it and talked to Harry.

Now it looked like he was working himself up again. Into a panic.

He had the phone in his hand still. Why didn’t he put it down?

I heard sirens, turned, and two Sheriff’s cruisers squeezed past the SUV. Shipley leaned out of the window as they went past, said, ‘Get back !’

The vehicles formed a barricade across the street, maybe thirty feet in front of us. Leonard and two other deputies got out of the cars and used them for cover, immediately drawing their weapons and aiming them at the truck. Shipley popped the trunk of the cruiser and lifted clear a semi-automatic rifle with a scope.

‘Don’t fire,’ said Berlin, walking toward them, his ID held high. He talked to Shipley, but I couldn’t hear what was being said.

Then the driver’s door of the truck opened.

Shipley pushed Berlin away, slapped the barrel of the rifle on the roof of the Sheriff’s cruiser and took aim.

CHAPTER SEVENTY

HARRY

Harry took hold of Francis’s arm, tightly. He had one foot out of the cab when he turned back.

‘Give me the phone,’ said Harry.

Francis bowed his head, looked at the small device in his hands, as if it was somehow unbelievable that such a small thing could trigger so much harm.

Harry had watched the local police show up. Probably tipped off by the feds and the chemical plant. Berlin was arguing with Shipley.

Francis placed the phone on the dash. Harry picked it up, waved it at the police.

‘Maybe stay in the cab until they come get you,’ said Harry as Shipley pushed Berlin out of the way, and then pointed that rifle at the truck. ‘They haven’t shot you because they were worried about hitting the truck. Stay in here,’ said Harry.

‘Thank you,’ said Francis. ‘Thank you for telling me what happened to Skylar and Esther.’

All four sheriff’s deputies had their weapons aimed at the truck. Harry felt his gut tightening as Francis put two feet on the ground. He’d seen the deputies too. And Harry knew Francis had made a decision. The door of the truck kept the top half of Francis’s body shielded from the rifles trained at him.