“You did okay,” Trapper replied.
“Okay?” he repeated with affront. “I was brilliant.”
“Where is Duncan’s old lady? Did you ask him?”
“Yes, but anything Mr. Duncan told me is privileged, Trapper. You know that.”
“I need to know what he said.”
“He’s my client.”
“And I’m financing his fee. Now tell me what he said.”
“That’s grounds for disbarment.”
“Oh, for crissake. You choose now to turn ethical? Kerra’s not gonna tell on you. Are you?” Trapper looked at her, and she shook her head. “See? And I’m not gonna tell on you. So talk.”
Carson only assumed a more obstinate stance.
Trapper bore down on him. “I’m not gonna tell anybody that you violated attorney-client privilege…but I might let it slip that your law degree is counterfeit.”
Carson started. “How’d you know?”
Trapper just looked at him and smiled, and when Carson realized that he’d been had, he swore.
“Now that we’ve got those pesky ethics out of the way,” Trapper said, “what about Duncan’s old lady?”
Carson sighed with resignation. “She’s been passing bad checks. They thought it would be advisable for her to clear town for a while.”
“When did she go? Was she with Duncan Sunday night?”
“Definitely. They were going at it all night long, he said, and had a sad parting Monday morning.”
“Where was she off to?”
“Galveston.”
“Duncan may need her to provide an alibi. If you know anybody in south Texas who could track her down and bring her back—”
“Already on it.”
“Good.”
“Except…” Carson grimaced.
“What?”
“He may not want to bring her into the picture even if it means sacrificing his alibi.”
“The bad checks?”
“That, but there could also be an issue regarding her age. But he’s fairly sure she’s turned seventeen.”
Trapper looked pained. “Does this guy have any redeeming qualities?”
“He has a heart tattoo with ‘Mom’ scrolled across it.”
“That’s something,” Kerra said.