“No, I’m not sure who does it, but it basically dishes on everything going on in Pulaski, Giles County, and the college. There are a bunch of articles in it denouncing General Lewis and your accuser.”

“I’ll have to check it out.”

“Well, I hope the charges are dropped soon,” Thad said, beginning to move for the stairs.

“Thank you.”

Zannick turned his attention back to his computer, where his tweets had now been reposted hundreds of times. Casimir’s Vine would submit a recap of General Lewis’s arrest and the current status of the police investigation later tonight along with an even bigger bombshell. He ran his index finger along the scar on his upper lip and then clicked on his Facebook page. On his personal page, he had over three thousand friends. His business pages, Z Bank, Zannick Storage, and Zannick Construction, all had at least a thousand followers each. Pulling up the “Create Post” box on his personal feed, Zannick wrote: “What’s on my mind? Beyond shocked that the district attorney general of Giles County, who’s maliciously charged me with a crime I didn’t commit, has now been charged herself with the brutal murder of my friend, attorney, and colleague Butch Renfroe. RIP Butch.”

Zannick read and reread the message and then pressed “Post.” Although the responses took longer to accumulate, Zannick knew that he would eventually have hundreds of “likes” and several comments. He shared his personal post on the business pages for the bank, the storage company, and his construction outfit and then logged out.

He closed his computer as his waiter was placing his food on the table. “Thank you, Henry,” he said, and the man, whose beard hung well past his neck and whose hair was tied in a ponytail in back, nodded.

“Anything else, Mr. Zannick?”

“I’m fine,” he said. As the waiter turned to walk down the stairs, a plump figure trudged past him going up.

Zannick faked a smile as Lou Horn approached him. Lou was supposed to meet him for lunch at noon, and the criminal defense attorney was late. “Well?” Zannick asked before Lou could even sit down.

“Your trial has been rescheduled for June first,” Lou said, plopping down hard in the seat. Even from a couple of feet away, Zannick could smell the alcohol on the man’s breath. Lou coughed and leaned his elbows on the table. “Sack should still be the district attorney general then, and once some time has gone by, I’ll approach him again about settlement. I mentioned it to him last night, and he said it was too early to talk deal.”

“A deal?” Zannick asked, throwing in some exasperation in his tone. “How about an outright dismissal?”

Lou grimaced. “Let’s be patient for now and see what happens.”