Casey began to protest that it was almost unheard of for an attorney to have so little time to prepare for trial, but Lipton's halting, slender hand cut her off. "Every motion is in order. I oversaw everything and Michael is no slouch."

"I have to familiarize myself with the case," Casey interjected. "I have to develop a strategy for witnesses, for the entire trial…"

Lipton smiled demonically at her and in a hushed voice said, "My dear, I told you. I have everything right here. This is the strategy. These are the witnesses. I am the director. You are the player…"

Casey pressed her lips together, thinking. Part of her wanted to wipe the smug, assuming look off this man's face, to politely get up and leave. Another part of her never could. As insulted as she might be, she was also fascinated and challenged. What he said about the prize was painfully true. She remembered the stab of resentment she'd felt when she read about the case and learned that her old professor had chosen Dove and not her for his defense counsel. She had the better reputation of the two, if not by much. And more important, as a female she would have a natural advantage when it came to convincing a jury that her client was not guilty of a heinous crime toward another woman.

And now that he was offering her the case, he was doing so with restrictions. She was fairly certain she knew what he was up to. It was the game within the game. The decision to proceed with the trial was more than just his desire to get out of jail. It was a strategic move, and it made her wonder if Lipton had somehow forced Dove to rescind the case. If Lipton were found guilty, the chances of getting another trial on appeal would be good with a switch in attorneys so close to trial. Van Rawlins wasn't the kind of judge to insist on an extension under normal conditions. He certainly wouldn't do so now, knowing full well that such an extension would make Casey's life easier.