“David?” “Yes.” Jesse Quiller said quietly, “It's going to get worse.”
David Singer was unable to sleep the night before he was to go into court. He could not stem the negative thoughts swirling through his head.
When he finally fell asleep, he heard a voice saying, “You let your last client die. What if you let this one die?”
He sat up in bed, bathed in perspiration. Sandra opened her eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. No. What the hell am I doing here? All I had to do was say no to Dr. Patterson.”
Sandra squeezed his arm and said softly, “Why didn't you?” He grunted. “You're right. I couldn't.”
“All right then. Now, how about getting some sleep so you'll be nice and fresh in the morning?”
“Great idea.” He was awake the rest of the night. Judge Williams had been correct about the media.
The reporters were relentless. Journalists were swarming in from around the world,
avid to cover the story of a beautiful young woman being tried as a serial killer who sexually mutilated her victims.
The fact that Mickey Brennan was forbidden to bring the names of Jim Cleary or Jean Claude Parent into the trial had been frustrating,
but the media had solved the problem for him. Television talk shows, magazines and newspapers
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