“I’m an exception, but that’s not something you learn. You’re born with it. I have it, and Russell Pritcher has it, too. He’s never lost a case either, you know. That isn’t something they teach you in law school.”

“So you’re saying I don’t have it?”

I shrugged. “I’m saying you’re not going to find out if you got it or not by prosecuting horse thieves. You need to test yourself.”

“Well,” she said, taking a bite of burger, “lucky for me, we have a rape and murder case thrown in our laps, right?”

I watched her eat a minute and then finished my drink.

“What do you know about Patty’s love life?”

She shrugged, taking a napkin and wiping at her lips. “Just what you told us. I didn’t know her. When we got this case, I asked a friend of mine that does hair that knew her, and she said Patty dated a lot. All older guys. She didn’t like guys her age.”

“She give any names?”

Jia shook her head. “No, but honestly, if she was charging two grand a night like you said, and she only went on dates with guys from River Falls, there’s not that many people here that can swing that. Top of my list would be Nathan Ficco, Horace Webb, and the mayor. How the hell do you even get rich as a mayor? He makes like twenty-five grand a year.”

“Being mayor of anywhere has perks. Like buying worthless property and then getting it zoned commercial and selling it for ten times what you bought it for.” Outside the window, a woman was walking her large black dog without a leash. I watched the dog a moment and then said, “Do me a favor; when you get back to the office, get me an appointment with our dear mayor. And don’t tell Gates for now.”

30

30

The mayor’s office wasn’t in the City and County Building like the other city administration offices, but in an old Victorian-style home that had been converted to office space. The home was redbrick with white pillars out front and an American flag by each pillar.

Inside, law books took up massive floor-to-ceiling shelves and the furniture looked imported. A receptionist led me back to the mayor’s office; he was at his desk, on the phone. He held up his finger, indicating he’d be just a minute. I stood by the window, watching his reflection in it.

He was a large man that overflowed from his chair, and sweat glistened on the thick mustache that decorated his upper lip like a small rug. He wore an immaculate suit with a pocket square and had a ring on three of the four fingers of each hand.

When he hung up, he came over and thrust out his hand. “Roy Dawson, so nice to finally meet you.”

“Tatum Graham. Likewise.”