Read Ed Lynskey - Isabel and Alma Trumbo 01 - Quiet Anchorage for Free Online Page A

8
     
    After the third, harder knock, Dwight Holden swung in his front door and confronted Isabel removing her floppy straw hat. Instant dismay pinched his face.
    “Good evening, Dwight. Might we discuss a legal matter?” she asked.
    The short, slight lawyer still in his poplin business suit and a turquoise bola tie put up his slender hands as if to rebuff her.
    “Sorry, Isabel, but I’ve never defended a capital case, and I can’t assist you.”
    Alma sniffed from her allergies. “It’s time to break that streak.” She dabbed a tissue at her runny nose and watery eyes.
    “We’ll take up our business in private, not out here on the stoop,” said Isabel.
    “It’s only plain civility to invite you in, so please do. But I can’t promise you any legal counsel.” As his hands fluttered, the sisters watched him and exchanged their uncertain glances about him.
    “We’ll help you change your mind.” Alma huffed ahead into the foyer, brushing by him.
    Isabel letting the screen door close with her elbow ushered him along with her other hand. “Shall we go join her? There’s no stopping her.”
    He mumbled something, and they followed the angular hallway ending at a den cluttered to suit a young bachelor. Isabel balanced on the edge of the nearest ladder-back chair. Alma wary of the torn, smudged armchair remained standing while he sank into the mushy recliner, his audible sigh a ponderous one.
    “Before you go any further, let me reiterate I’ve had minimal trial lawyer experience, and I can’t even advise you on the general points.”
    “Duly noted,” said Isabel.
    Alma did a hand chop motion. “It’s time to quit cutting bait and fish, Dwight. First, Isabel and I will cover your legal fees, and Megan is to be kept in the dark even if she asks you about it.”
    Touching his fingertips together on both hands, he created a birdcage. “With my canon of ethics to uphold, I work in the best interests of my client. If she asks me, I’ll have to tell her who’s footing the bill. This is all, of course, hypothetical since I haven’t accepted her case.”
    “Our fat checkbook tells us you’ll stay mum,” said Alma.
    He stared at her for an extra beat. “Your fat checkbook, eh? Well, right you are then. I accept her case, and mum is definitely the word.”
    “We’ll also lend you a hand,” said Alma.
    He made a disapproving noise. “Can you be more specific? After all, I am the one here with the law degree.”
    “We’ll take an active role in running the day-to-day affairs,” replied Alma, still vague.
    “This sounds too complicated.” His hands flitted like a wounded butterfly. “Who do you propose murdered Jake Robbins?”
    “Everybody in Quiet Anchorage becomes our suspect,” replied Alma. “But we can state with confidence that Megan isn’t the culprit who belongs in prison.”
    “Shall we kibbutz tomorrow, say, at nine o’clock in my office?”
    Again, Alma sniffed. “Since we’re a team, our first objective is to pay Megan a visit tonight.”
    His white knuckles gripped to the recliner’s armrests. “Only Sheriff Fox authorizes after-hour visits and without a doubt he’ll flat-out refuse, so why should we pester him tonight?”
    Helpless to head it off, Isabel watched Alma lash out. “Here’s an idea. Why don’t you call him at home right now and request his precious authorization?”
    Isabel had a calmer tone. “Stress how vital it is you meet your new client Megan Connors tonight. If Sheriff Fox balks, then use a lawyerly excuse to persuade him.”
    Dwight realized when he was outmaneuvered and lifted his telephone from the roll-top desk. “This is so inflammatory.” He pecked in the right numbers from a business card also on the roll-top desk. “I’m all out of lawyerly excuses. Do you have any quick tips?”
    Isabel dealt Alma a hopeful nod and missing only a beat, she posed a solution. “Tell Sheriff Fox you caught wind of a rumor we’ve been dishing the dirt to the