"Rebuttal, Ms. Knight?"

"Can we have a brief sidebar, Your Honor?"

The judge nodded and turned to the jury. "Why don't we take our afternoon break, then? It's three o'clock, I'll see you back here at three fifteen."

Declan and I stood as the jury filed out. Not one of them looked in our direction. Bailey leaned toward me. "Nice cross, Counselor."

"Not that it mattered."

Bailey sighed. "I'd like to tell you you're wrong..."

I moved toward sidebar with leaden feet. I knew I probably shouldn't even bother with rebuttal, but I couldn't let go. If there was any way to rescue this case, I had to find it."Your Honor, as you know, the defense had said they intended to call many more witnesses than they did, so I expected the defense case to take at least a couple of days longer-"

"And you don't have witnesses ready for today," the judge said. "Is that where you're going?"

"In a nutshell, yes. I can get them in tomorrow, I believe."

Terry's chin jutted out as she leaned toward the court reporter. "This court has made it very clear that we had to have witnesses standing by every day, and that if either of us ran out, it would require us to rest our case. The defense has abided by that rule and I'm urging the court to enforce it for the People as well. If Ms. Knight doesn't have her witnesses, then there should be no rebuttal. The case should go to the jury."

"Ms. Fisk is right," the judge said.

I started to respond, but he held up a hand and cut me off. "I've heard your position; it doesn't require any further explanation." The judge folded his arms and pursed his lips as he looked down at the space between us. The court reporter's hands hovered over the keys, waiting to hear what he'd say. I reflexively crossed my fingers, my heart in my throat. Finally, the judge made his decision.

"I'm going to allow the People to start their rebuttal tomorrow. I want to make it clear that the only reason I'm doing this is because Ms. Knight is correct: the defense witness list was extensive, which created the impression that it would take a great deal more time than it has. Ms. Fisk, you've dropped at least seventy percent of the witnesses you originally indicated you'd call. I really can't, in all fairness, punish Ms. Knight for relying on your representations. So I'm granting the People's request. But I warn you, Ms. Knight, I won't brook any delays tomorrow. I want this case to go to the jury as soon as possible, so make sure you have everyone here."

"Thank you, Your Honor," I said.

I walked back to counsel table and gave Declan and Bailey the news.

"I'm outta here," Bailey said. "I'll tell 'em all to be here by eight thirty."

"I'll be in my cave," I said.

I spent the rest of the day in my office getting ready for my last witnesses. There wasn't that much to do. They were all crime lab people. I intended to put Leo back on to give the defense fingerprint whore, Poplar, another thrashing, and Barry Feinstein, the head of the DNA section, who'd supervised Gelfer's work on this case. He'd say that from what he'd seen, Gelfer had followed proper procedures during the testing in this case. He wouldn't be able to say he'd watched him every second of the day, but it was better than nothing. I'd already had Russell's threatening letters sent to the crime lab to see if I could do anything with them, but I wouldn't have an answer on them until tomorrow.

The only thing left to do was work on my closing argument. If everything went according to schedule, I'd be doing it by tomorrow afternoon. I made bullet points of the evidence we'd presented and made a separate list of the zingers I'd save for rebuttal. Since the prosecution has the burden of proof, I'd get to argue twice, once before and once after the defense. That final rebuttal is the golden opportunity where we always stash our "gotcha's" because the defense can't respond.

Engrossed, I lost track of the time until Declan checked in. "It's seven o'clock. Want me to bring you some dinner?"

"Damn. I didn't realize. Thanks, but no. I'm just about ready to go."

"Then I'll wait and give you a lift. You've got to be tired."

Bailey had given me a ride to work, so I didn't have my car. I knew I should turn down the offer. I needed the exercise and the evening was beautiful. The sky was still bright, but the sun's rays were low, giving the air a soft, balmy warmth. But I was wiped out. "That'd be great. Just gimme a sec."

"No rush. Call me when you're done."

I called Bailey, just to check in. I got her voice mail and left a message saying I was heading back to the hotel.

When Declan dropped me off, I decided to hit the bar. I needed the break and I hadn't seen Drew in a while. Being in trial means living in a tunnel, with the courtroom at one end and home at the other-nothing in between. There's just no time. Anticipating a very dry martini, I opened the heavy glass door and swung into the cool darkness.

And stopped dead in my tracks. Sitting at a table with two other men, just twenty feet away, was the same jerkweed who'd hit me up in the hallway outside my room. Sunglasses and all. I quickly backed out and headed up to my room before they could see me.

I called Drew and told him about my encounter with the asswipe reporter now sitting at his bar, whom I'd nicknamed Sunglasses. "You see him?"

Drew was silent for a moment. "Yeah. What do you want me to do?"

"Would you consider watering down his drinks?"

"Sure, but..." Drew paused a moment. "You know the two dudes sitting with him?"

"No."

"Call you right back."

Five minutes later, my cell played Drew's ringtone, "One for My Baby."

"Tell me you gave him a water martini."

"I did you one better."

"What?"

"Can't tell you right now. But just to warn you: those other two guys with him? They're reporters. I hate to say this, but you might want to steer clear of this place for a little while. At least till the trial's over."

Damn. Now I wasn't even safe where I lived. I sighed. "Okay. Thanks, Drew."

"Oh, and just so you know. I heard them talking. This guy, Sunglasses, is only a freelance. My guess is he's going guerrilla on you so he can get some footage that'll score him a real gig. So watch out for him."

"Will do. But please, whatever you decide to do to this douche bag, make sure it hurts."

"Trust me."

I knew I could. Just the thought that payback was being delivered-even if I wasn't there to see it-was enough to lift my spirits. I was fed up with feeling hunted and powerless to do anything about it.

I'd showered and gotten into my comfy sweats and poured myself a glass of Ancien pinot noir by the time Bailey called me back.

"Hey, where've you been?" I asked. "I'm sitting here drinking all alone. Which isn't all bad since it means more for me-"

"I've got good news and bad news." Bailey's voice was tight and low.

"Good news." I'd had enough of the other to last me a lifetime.

"Parkova's got something."

I put down the glass of wine and sat up. "What?"

"She called it an MITM attack. 'Man in the middle.' It's a way of intercepting someone's e-mail without them knowing it."

"Ian was intercepting Russell's e-mail?"

"Yep."

"How?"

"The only words I understood were 'man in the middle,' so I think I'll let her explain."

"So that's how Ian knew about the kidnapping."

"And why he didn't have to be in Russell's house at the time the kidnapping e-mail came in."

"If I call her to the stand, can she prove this?"

"That's the bad news. Right now, it's an educated guess. She needs to firm things up-"

"So she needs more time. How much?"

"A few days. I know we've only got enough witnesses to fill up tomorrow morning, but if we can stretch them out, we'll make it. Monday's Labor Day-"

"Right." I'd forgotten. But getting there was another story. There was no way the judge would give me tomorrow off. I'd have to stall. "I'll do my best, but..."

"I know." Bailey sighed. "Okay, I'm going back in there. Parkova'll be working all night and I need to follow whatever the hell it is she's doing so I can write a report for your girlfriend Terry."

My girlfriend. "Yeah, Fisk and I just booked a spa weekend together."

Bailey snorted. "For the mud baths."

"No, she's got those at home."

"Anything you want me to tell Parkova?"

"Yeah. Hurry."

80.

I spent the rest of the evening dreaming up ways to stall. Call in sick? Dicey. Shoot Terry? Tempting, but the judge would just make Wagmeister take over. And he'd probably be delighted to do it now that they looked like sure winners. Give some of the jurors food poisoning? Hard work. They weren't sequestered, so they could go wherever they wanted. Bailey would need to tail them. Bailey might not approve of this plan. I fell asleep with no workable ideas.

But I woke up with a couple. Idea number one: pray for rain. It was far from foolproof, but there were clouds in the sky. Rain was good. Rain meant slow traffic. Slow traffic meant a late start. I did a mental rain dance as I got dressed. I even threw a trench coat over my shoulder to give the weather a little encouragement. As I walked up Broadway toward the courthouse, I looked at the clouds, tried some visualization exercises. Come on, you suckers, pour. But by the time I arrived at work, not a drop had fallen. Proof that the clouds were on the defense dole.

Since the weather had crapped out on me, I was forced to put idea number two into action. I went to Declan's office and found him hunched over a legal pad.

"Hey, Rachel. Need anything?"

"Yes, but first I have some news." I told him about the latest development with Parkova.

"Awesome! Finally, the good guys get a break!"

"Doesn't sound like a game changer yet. First of all, we have to hope the trial lasts long enough for her to firm it up-"

"But if she can, I'll take it."

"Me too. But we've got to stall, and I think we both know that the judge is not my biggest fan."

"He's a tool."

"This is true. But a tool who still likes you..."

Declan's eyes widened.

"I'm putting you in, slugger. All you have to do is remember to talk slowly. But I mean, really, really slowly." Declan's brow creased with worry. "You can do it. I know you can."

The truth was, he had to do it. There was no other choice. If I suddenly slowed my pace and meandered around the courtroom, everyone would know it was an act and I was just stalling for time. But they hadn't seen enough of Declan to really know what his style was. And after his stumble with Leo's testimony, if he moved slowly, everyone would think he was just being extra careful. Declan nodded and then he gave a little smile. "Okay, put me in, Coach. We all know I can drop the ball. That should eat up some time."

His willingness to look less than stellar for the sake of the case was a real sacrifice, and it showed me yet again what a mensch he was. I told him so.

"Just promise that, whatever happens here, you'll tell everyone that I took the hit for the team."

"You better believe it. You'll be the stuff of legend. A current-day J. Miller Leavy-"

J. Miller Leavy was the most famous L.A. prosecutor of all time.

"More like a J. Miller Leavy on downers," Declan said.

Declan got into character by walking slowly on our way to court.

"You're killing me, dude," I said. The slow pace was sheer agony for me.

"You want me to sell this?" I nodded. "Then don't argue. It's my process."

"You hang around too many actors."

We walked into the courtroom and set up at counsel table...slowly. "I'm busy, don't distract me," Declan said. Slowly.

When the jury was seated, Declan stood deliberately, reviewed his notes with great care, and then called our first rebuttal witness. Leo Relinsky. He then reshuffled through his notes for as long as he dared.

"Good morning, Mr. Relinsky. How are you today?"

"I'm well, and you?"