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It was a little after nine when Patrick arrived at his office at Payes & Hecht, but he felt as if he'd already put in a full day.

The fire trucks had arrived on the heels of the first patrol car and doused his flaming lawn. It looked like the vandals had tried to burn some sort of message into the grass but whatever it said had been turned to steaming mud by the time the fire hoses finished their work. The cops took his statement, bagged the Fruitopia bottle and note, and promised to have the patrols make extra swings by his place.Advertisement

All fine and good, but it had left him with a sick, sour stomach and an adrenaline hangover. At least he was in better shape than Pamela who seemed totally freaked by the incident. He'd tried to explain that the threat had been against him, not her, but still she'd been afraid to leave the house.

Finally he'd put her on a train to the city, then made it to White Plains where he was surrounded as soon as he stepped into the Payes & Hecht reception area. News of the attack had been all over the TV and radio; the firm was medium size, consisting of twenty-two attorneys, and everyone knew everyone. The associates and staff were shocked and concerned and wanted to know all the details. But before he could get into it, Alton Kraft, the managing senior partner, pulled him aside for a one-on-one in his office.

"You all right?" Kraft said.

His blue eyes looked out from under thick eyebrows that matched his salt-and-pepper hair. He had a lined face and looked grandfatherly, but he could be a buzzsaw with any associate who strayed off the beaten path. Patrick was up for partnership next year and Kraft was one of his main supporters.

"I'm fine. Really."

The two of them had hit it off from the first brief Patrick had prepared for one of Kraft's cases. He'd said it was the best he'd seen in years, and had taken Patrick under his wing.

"Good. I want to talk to you about this sim union thing. I'm not sure it's consistent with the image of the firm."

"It's pro bono," Patrick said. "Aren't we always being encouraged to take some pro bono cases? This is one of mine."

"That's all fine and good, but I don't like seeing the firm's name mentioned in connection with fire bombings."

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Patrick stiffened. He was well aware that when Alton Kraft said "I" he was speaking for the senior partners.

"Alton, believe me," Patrick said, smiling in the hope of lightening things up, "I like it even less when it's my own name mentioned in connection with a fire bombing."

Kraft grinned. "I can imagine. But Patrick..." The grin faded. "You're an excellent attorney and you've got a big future with this firm. I admire your tenacity - when you're handed a problem, you stick with it until it's solved."

Tenacity, Patrick thought. Better than "stubborn as a mule," which was how his mother used to characterize him.

"But that same tenacity cancause problems too. When a situation looks like trouble for you or the firm, you have to know when to back away and cut your losses."

"I hear you, Alton. Loud and clear. But I'm sort of stuck with the sims for now."

"Not for long, fortunately."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I guess you haven't had time to sift through your messages yet. Judge Boughton has been assigned to decide on the declaratory judgment."

"Henry Boughton?"

"The one and only."

Patrick felt as if he'd been punched. Shit. What else could go wrong today?

"I think I'd better go talk to my clients." pqdm.com