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it.
    “That’s crazy,” she said.
    “Larry wouldn’t kill anybody. What the hell is going on?” She unzipped the smock and threw it at a chair. When she turned back toward him she was wearing only a thin T-shirt, the bottom of which missed meeting her low-cut jeans by a good six inches, leaving an expanse of silky, lightly browned skin.
    Will was slightly rocked by the sight. Her breasts were full, and the nipples were hard, thrust lightly against the T-shirt.
    “Well, uh, we won’t know much more about the case until Monday morning, when the preliminary hearing will be held. I’d like you to come to that.” He tried to keep his breathing slow and steady.
    “Sure I will,” she said, sitting next to him on the sofa again.
    Involuntarily, he inched away from her.
    “As long as I’m here, I need to ask you some questions,” he said.
    “Okay,” she said.
    “Whatever will help Larry.”
    “I should tell you that anything you say to me will be in confidence and can’t be used against Larry. Our conversation is privileged.”
    “Right,” she said, moving her tongue over her lower lip, in a motion that seemed astonishingly sensual to Will.
    He coughed into his fist and made an effort to compose himself. This girl’s presence was having the most unsettling effect on him. He crossed his legs and realized that he was becoming tumescent. He coughed again, then began questioning her about her movements on Thursday night.
    Her account of the evening matched Larry’s in every respect, except she said they had eaten ribs, instead of chicken. She did not, however, share Larry’s initial reticence in describing the later part of their evening.
    “After the movie,” she said, “we fucked.” She wrinkled her brow as if trying to be precise.
    “Two or three times.”
    Will nodded and swallowed.
    “I don’t want you to think I’m prying,” he said, “but is that something you and Larry do a lot of?”
    Her eyebrows went up.
    “Fucking? Oh, yeah. We like it. We’re good together.” She looked at him and smiled.
    “Why, Counselor, I’m embarrassing you.”
    “Not at all,” Will lied.
    “Ah, is there anything else you want to know about Larry’s case?”
    She questioned him briskly about the charges against Larry and what might happen to him. There was none of the deference that Larry had shown; she addressed Will as an equal, and her questions were intelligent and to the point. She seemed somehow older, more mature than Larry.
    When he had answered her. Will stood.
    “Well, I’d better get going. If you’ll put together a couple of changes of clothes and some shaving gear for Larry, I’ll drop them off at the jail.”
    “I’ll take it myself. I want to see him.”
    Will glanced at his watch.
    “It’s after visiting hours, I’m afraid. You can go by tomorrow, though, between two and five.”
    She disappeared into a bedroom, came back with a packed nylon duffel, and handed it to him.
    “They’ll search it,” Will said to her.
    “If there’s any thing in here you don’t want them to see…”
    “No,” she said, then stuck out her hand.
    “Thank you, Will, for what you’re doing for Larry. Can I call you Will?”
    “Sure,” he said, taking her hand. It was warm and soft;
    her fingers were long and her grip firm.
    “The sheriff is holding Larry’s van for the moment. I may be able to get it released late next week. Larry wanted you to be able to use it.
    Call me if you have any other questions; I’m in the Delano phone book—the office is Lee & Lee. Home is W. H. Lee the Fourth.”
    She frowned, not letting go of his hand.
    “Is your father Billy Lee? The one who was governor?”
    “That’s right.” He took his hand back and put it in his pocket. It was damp.
    “Goodbye,” she said.
    Will left the house and got into his car with the duffel.
    “Jesus Christ!” he said aloud to himself.
    “No wonder Larry wants to get out of jail!” He drove off toward the square, trying not to