Dark Moonlighting Read Online Free

or Furcht had been involved in the mysterious
disappearance of Ruine three years earlier. While I had no love for
either man nor any illusion about their moral standing, I tended to
believe they were innocent of the crime. Men like Hass and Furcht
wielded loopholes as their weapons, not knives and shovels. Whether
it was true or not, I had been happy with the accusation at the
time. It had taken media and police attention away from a
particularly brutal murder I had committed against an employee of
the Department of Motor Vehicles.
    The law firm did not have an underground
parking garage, but I was assigned a special parking spot near the
entrance of the office. A hastily constructed canopy stretched out
from the side of the building and provided just enough shade for me
to avoid the unbearable pain of exposure to sunlight. I am sure it
was an inconvenience for Hass and Furcht to make the special
arrangements. I often wondered if they tolerated my employment
because I was such a good defense attorney or because it allowed
them to bask in the diversity of having an albino on the staff. I
exited my SUV, slid my posterior along the car door to stay in the
shade and proceeded into the building. The receptionist barely
acknowledged my presence when I nodded at her and made my way to
the senior partner’s office.
    Caleb Hass was on the phone when I entered
the room. He smiled and waved me into the chair in front of his
desk. I returned the smile while thinking, if you weren’t so
influential I would have made a point to eat you years ago .
Hass was fat with graying hair and an elaborate array of liver
spots from his regular deep sea fishing excursions. He looked
pretty much exactly how you would expect a scheister to look.
Though he rarely sat in on trials after becoming a senior partner,
Hass built a reputation early in his career for winning at any
cost. He once got a drunk driver acquitted of running down a
bicyclist at night on the technicality that one of the reflectors
on the bike was a quarter inch smaller than regulation size. In
another high profile case, he saved the neck of a priest accused of
molesting an altar boy by insinuating that the boy had been asking
for it by dressing slutty. He then successfully countersued the
boy’s family and got the priest a $250,000 settlement for emotional
damages. Overall, he is a real douchebag. As a lawyer, I am very
much aware that the comments I make about Caleb Hass could be
considered libelous. Since I am soon going to be executed by the
state of Illinois, I am not particularly concerned about Hass suing
me for defamation. Rest assured though, if he could sue a corpse he
would. The man perfected his craft so well that almost everything
he said was disingenuous. For the sake of clarity, I will attempt
to translate his words to the best of my ability.
    “Nick, it’s good to see you (I don’t really
care if you live or die),” Caleb said to me after finishing up on
the phone.
    “I’m sorry I couldn’t be visiting with
happier news,” I said. “I’m sure you’ve already heard about the
outcome of the Stephens trial.”
    Caleb nodded his head solemnly. “That’s very
unfortunate for poor Robert Stephens, Jr. (Robert Stephens, Sr. was
ridiculously powerful, and I really would have liked it if he owed
me a favor). Oh well, I suppose we can’t win them all (You suck. I
totally would have won that one).”
    I took the liberty of pouring myself a glass
of Scotch whiskey from a bottle that Caleb had carelessly left on
his desk. He had a fully stocked liquor cabinet in his office but
had not even once offered me a drink. My cover story as an albino
often made people believe I was weak or fragile. He might have
assumed I was too soft to drink. On the other hand though, perhaps
he was just a cheap asshole. It was not until I was returning the
bottle to the desk that I glanced at the label and realized the
Scotch had been aged for sixty years.
    Caleb’s eyes narrowed ever so