The Reformers: A Matt Blake Novel (The Matt Blake legal thriller series Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

inner demons of radical Islam.”
    “Ben, I can’t prove that I didn’t do it. I can’t deny that the guy in the video is me. As I explained to Matt Blake, I’m sure the time and date on the video were changed. I can’t explain the thumbprint or the DNA. All I can say is that it wasn’t me. I did not commit those crimes.”
    “Okay, Al, then let’s talk theory. If it wasn’t you, then somebody did an Academy Award level frame-up. The only explanation, based on what you say, is that somebody formed an elaborate plot to get you accused, locked up, and maybe executed. Who would do that?”
    “Hey, Ben, I’ll give you a few guesses, and the Boy Scouts of America isn’t one of them. Obviously it’s al-Qaeda or ISIS or both.”
    “Still doesn’t compute, Al. The jihadis are never shy about taking credit for a bombing. Why didn’t they just round up a couple of their willing suicide martyrs, blow the shit out of the place, and then claim credit? What do they need with you?”
    “I can’t answer that, Ben, I simply can’t go there.”
    “Do you mean that you can’t go there or you won’t go there?”
    “Both.”
    “Dr. Weinberg, your time is up” came the announcement. “Please complete your conversation with the prisoner.”

Chapter 7
     
    With everything she crams into her busy life, it amazes me that Diana is such an excellent cook. I suggested that we take Bennie out to a nice local restaurant, but Dee insisted she wanted to host our friend at our place. She made poached salmon, which we both know is one of Bennie’s favorites, with saffron rice and asparagus spears.
    Dee loves to cook. She’ll tell anybody who’ll listen that after years of getting wasted on booze, pizza, and gallons of ice cream, she figured she’d explore the secrets of good-tasting food, not just as something to consume in enormous quantities. She’s also a perfectionist, a Martha Stewart-like hostess.
    I pinched her firm little ass while helping her set the table. “Hey, later, baby. We have a distinguished guest coming.”
    “Agreed, later.”
    The doorbell rang. It was Bennie. This was the first time he had been to our apartment.
    “Holy shit, this place is beautiful,” said Bennie as he walked in with a bouquet of flowers. “I can’t believe the view of Lake Michigan,” he said as he walked over to the living room window. This is even better than that place the FBI found for you when you were in the Witness Protection Program. Do you still carry a gun, Diana?”
    “Let’s change the conversation to a more pleasant subject,” I said. “but to answer your question, Dee still carries a gun, like me.”
    Dee served seafood salad as a starter. It was delicious.
    “How about some white wine, Ben? I believe you like pinot grigio, yes?” Diana said.
    “Sure, but let me ask you two a question. Since you’ve both been clean and sober and riding the wagon for a few years, does it bother you to serve alcohol to somebody?”
    “Not at all, Ben. I just swig from a bottle of vodka I keep under the sink.”
    We cracked up. Dee loves to make fun of her past substance abuse.
     

After our main course, Dee served a mouth-watering crème brûlé. Definitely going to have to hit the stationary bike after this, I thought.
    “As you know, my wife Maggie is a college professor at NYU,” Bennie said. “I never thought you academic types could be such great cooks, but you both are. And I’ve got the waistline to prove it.”
    “I love that your wife’s name is Maggie, Ben, the same name as Matt’s late fiancée, his guardian angel. Somehow it makes our friendship with you even more special.”
    A tear ran down Bennie’s face. Gotta love this guy. He’s totally in touch with his emotions and isn’t afraid to let them show.
    ***
    “So, Ben, tell us what we’re dying to hear. How did your interview go with the guy Matt calls Mr. Scumbag?”
    “Hey, I told you I’d never call him that again. Stop picking on me.”
    Dee