“Why not? The worst he can say is no, but I think he’d be glad to have you.”

I smiled at her. Caroline had a way of making me feel like I could conquer the world. She’d always had more confidence in me than I had in myself.

“Okay,” I said. “If you really think it might be right for me, I’ll give it a shot. I’ll call Mooney first thing in the morning.”

She stood and pursed her lips slightly. The next thing I knew she was pulling her shirt over her head. She slipped off her bra and turned towards the bedroom, dangling the bra from her fingertips as she looked at me over her shoulder.

“Now that’s what I call eye candy,” I said as I put down the beer and followed her. “Wait up. Let me help you take off the rest.”

Friday, August 29

I felt the welcome coolness of air-conditioning on my face as I opened the door and stepped out of the oppressive heat and humidity. It was a room the owner of the restaurant-a man named Tommy Hodges who fancied himself a local political insider-reserved for special customers, people he believed had power or privilege. It had its own entrance at the side of the one-story brick building. I was forty-one years old and had practiced law in the community for more than a decade, but I’d never set foot in the place.

The room was small and dimly lit, dominated by a single table, large and round with a scarred blue Formica top. All four walls surrounding the table were decorated with autographed photos of state and local politicians. Lee Mooney, the elected attorney general of the First Judicial District, was examining a photograph of himself as I stepped through the door.

Mooney was fifty years old, a lean, striking man with gray eyes, salt-and-pepper hair, and a handlebar mustache. I’d called him on Thursday morning and asked him whether he might consider hiring me, and he asked me to meet him at Tommy’s place the next day. He turned his head when he heard the door open and grinned.