Hear No Evil

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My husband was murdered.”

Lindsey Hart spoke in the detached voice of a young widow still grieving. It was as if she still couldn’t believe that the words were coming from her mouth, that something so horrible had actually happened. “Shot once in the head.”

“I’m very sorry.” Jack wished he could say more, but he’d been in this situation before, and he knew there really wasn’t anything he could say. It was God’s will? Time heals all wounds? None of that would do her any good, certainly not from his lips. People sometimes turned to strangers for that kind of comfort, but rarely when the stranger was a criminal defense lawyer billing by the hour.

Jack Swyteck was among the best Miami ’s criminal trial bar had to offer, having defended death row inmates for four years before switching sides to become a federal prosecutor. He was in his third year of private practice, steadily building a name for himself, despite the fact that he’d yet to land the kind of high-charged, high-profile jury trial that had vaulted plenty of lesser lawyers into stardom. But he was doing just fine for a guy who’d withstood an indictment for murder, a divorce from a fruitcake, and the unexplained appearance of the naked, dead body of his ex-girlfriend in his bathtub.

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