I sat down on the edge of a desk. “We won because technology changes, society changes, everything changes but one thing: people. We never change. We’re still hunter-gatherers out there on the plains. And one thing you can count on in people is ego and insecurity. Chad Irwin is the type of guy that would rather get convicted of a drug charge than admit in open court that he’s a coward. You just gotta read people and find that one thing. That little point in them that they try so desperately to hide from everybody. You find that point, and you’ll get your Perry Mason moment on the stand. Witnesses will forget they’re in a courtroom and shout at you like you’re in the street.”

Jia sat down. “That was pretty remarkable. Have to admit.”

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t compliment often?” I checked my watch. “Better run. Clock-out time.”

“Not for me,” she said. “I got motions to write.”

“Me too,” Will said.

“Well, shit rolls downhill for a reason. Have a good night.”

When I left, it was getting dark. I headed to a furniture store. The place was all bears, cowboys, Indians, and sunsets. I bought a painting of wild horses and then pointed out several couches, chairs, a table, a bed, and a few other things. The owner said they could deliver them in a few days, and I told her I’d throw in an extra five K if they delivered it tonight. I thought her eyeballs might fall out of her head. I gave her the key to my place, and when I was leaving, my cell phone rang. It was Gates.

“Hey,” I said.

“So I heard an interesting story about court today.”

“Oh yeah? Did it involve a devilishly handsome Miami attorney displaying his genius in front of the world?”

“Maybe. Or maybe someone that just got lucky.”

“No such thing as luck, Gates.”

“Maybe.”

I hesitated. “What are you, um, doing for dinner tonight?”

“Nothing. You hungry?”

“I am.”

“Come over. I’ll make something.”

“You sure? We can just eat out.”

“No, come over.”

“Okay. See you in a bit.”

I hung up and couldn’t wipe the silly grin off my face.

Gates’s ranch was on the outskirts of town and had been in her family for four generations. It looked about the same as I remembered it, maybe a bit more run down, but still up and running.

I parked in front of the house and strolled up to the door. Gates opened it without me having to knock. She wore jeans and a slim button-down shirt and was wiping her hands with a dish towel.

“Come in. Dinner’s almost done.”

The house smelled like old wood. It was decorated exactly the same. Nothing had changed. I sat down on the couch and watched her stirring food in a pot over the stove.