When out-of-work lawyer Steve Winslow enlists himself as a New York City cab driver to pay the bills, he thinks he's hit rock-bottom. That is until Sheila Benton, heir to a multimillion dollar fortune, finds his number in the yellow pages and calls upon Steve to defend her. Of course her case is only a minor one. It seems that a blackmailer was found in her apartment in an uncomfortable position -- with a knife in his back. Only Sheila can't seem to convince anyone that she isn't responsible for killing this man. So without even the smallest bit of evidence, the ex-actor, now lawyer/cab-driver begins a series of legal maneuvers to take Sheila out of the light of suspicion while bringing himself back into business, all in a day's work.
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
December 01, 1999
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from The Baxter Trust by J. P. Hailey
SHEILA BENTON pushed the long, blond hair out of her eyes and peered at the clock.
She rubbed her eyes, sat up in bed and turned to the man sleeping next to her. She grabbed his arm and shook him.
"Johnny!" she said. "Johnny!"
John Dutton, twenty-eight, lean, muscular, pretty boy, stirred slightly and said something noncommittal like, "Mumph."
She shook him harder.
"Johnny! Wake up! You'll miss your plane."
"Good. Good. Miss my plane," he muttered.
She pulled the pillow out from under his head.
John grimaced, twisted his head around, opened a bleary eye and found himself staring at a magnificent pair of bare breasts.
The thing is, he hadn't seen them quite this way before. At times when he had been awake, they'd seemed impressive. In the early morning, they impressed him not at all.
"Johnny!" said the breasts. "Wake up! It's seven-twenty!"
"Fuck it," Johnny mumbled. He rolled his face into the sheet, away from the breasts.
Sheila hit him with a pillow. "Get up!"
John rolled over onto his back, opened his eyes, squinted at her and gave her the smile she found totally endearing.
"I haven't got the energy," he said.
She smiled back. A warm, friendly smile. A smile between lovers. But more than that. Between conspirators. Between people enjoying an in-joke.
Sheila turned and reached over to her night table. On it was a round shaving mirror. On the mirror was a pile of white powder, a razor blade, and a straw. Sheila took the blade and fashioned some of the powder into four white lines. She picked up the mirror and held it out to John. He took the straw and snorted two of the lines. She took the straw from him and snorted the other two. She put the mirror back on the night table, then turned back to Johnny.