Tell No Lies by Julie Compton Page B

his arms. "What I am doing? Well, let me see." He spoke slowly. "I'm trying to figure out what it's like to be Jack Hilliard. I'm sitting here, and I'm thinking, Now, what could be going through his mind? What could he be thinking? How does he view the world? He's got this boss who practically wants to hand him his job on a silver platter—a job that, by the way, any of the other attorneys in his office, and some others around town, would kill to have—but Jack doesn't seem to want it." He paused and propped his feet up on the desk. "At the same time, though, he hasn't taken any calls, or returned any calls, from the reporters who keep trying to reach him, so that he can tell them he doesn't want the job. For some reason, he hasn't told them that he's not going to run. And he also schedules meetings with the very people who can help him get the job—you know, the job he doesn't want." He tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling. "So what is Jack Hilliard thinking?" He shrugged. "I don't know, maybe you can tell me."
    Jack closed the door. "I don't know, either."
    "Well, if you don't know, I think we're in trouble."
    Jack remained standing. From his spot against the door he could hear voices in the hall, some secretaries back from lunch.
    "Tell me, Jack, why'd you go to law school?"
    Jack shrugged and let out a short laugh. "I don't know, why does anyone go to law school?"
    "Come on, seriously. I know you. I don't think it was for the money."
    "I don't know, Earl." His voice was louder now. He knew Earl was leading him down the primrose path, but he also knew he needed to go there. "Like I said, probably for the same reason everyone does. We all have this romanticized idea of what a lawyer does, don't we? You know, like we're all going to become Atticus Finch, fighting the good fight."
 
    "Do you feel like you're fighting the good fight?"
    He nodded. "Yeah, most days."
    "Give me the name of a politician you admire, one you respect. Past or present."
    "Can't think of one."
    "You haven't even tried."
    "Well, if you're talking about recent memory, I liked Jimmy Carter."
    Earl grinned, as Jack knew he would. He knew he hadn't chosen the most effective one he could think of. But that hadn't been the criteria.
 
    "Because of his honesty?"
    "Yes."
    "He was a good man?"
    "Is. Yes."
    "Anyone else? From the past, maybe?"
    Jack finally sat down in one of the two chairs in front of his desk.
    "Truman, I guess. It's hard to grow up here and not respect Harry Truman."
    Earl looked pleased with Jack's choice. "Despite him having dropped the bomb?"
    "You're the military man. I shouldn't have to defend that decision."
    "But you still admire him?"
    "Yes." They looked at each other across Jack's desk. "Look, I know where you're going with this."
    Earl removed his feet from the desk and leaned forward. "Where am I going, Jack?"
    "You want me to say something like 'the ends justify the means,' right?"
    "Do they?"
    God, he'd walked right into that one. "You know what? I'm behind on everything. I have a lot of work to catch up on." He stood. "Can I have my desk back?"
    "Sit down. It'll wait."
    "Easy for you to say." He sat back down. "You'll be out of here soon."
    Earl picked up the rock again and turned it in his hand. "Well?"
    "Well, what?" But he knew.
    "Do they?"
    "I don't think you can compare dropping the A-bomb to deciding whether to run for District Attorney." He couldn't help but laugh, it was so ridiculous.
    "No, you can't, it was a much more monumental decision, wasn't it?"
    "Yeah, just a bit."
    "That's my point, Jack."
    He thought he'd followed Earl all along, had cut him off at the pass, but now he felt stupid, as if he should have already known the point, but didn't. "What?"
    "He made a decision of that magnitude, knowing the terrible consequences, and yet he's still an admired, respected man, even by someone like you. You still think he's a good man."
 
    "Don't you?"
    "What I think isn't relevant just now."
    "He did what he