He didn’t normally pull strings to get special treatment. It just wasn’t his way. But this wasn’t a normal situation. He waited, his foot tapping a bit nervously, as the guard brought the prisoner to him. The overhead lights glinted off Daniel Duvato’s red hair. The guy was dressed in the usual orange prison garb, and a dark line of stubble covered Duvato’s jaw. When he saw that Clark was waiting for him, the guy’s eyes narrowed in fury. “Not the freaking ADA again.” Duvato jutted up his chin. “Not supposed to talk with you unless my lawyer is here!” Right, that was the drill. And that was also why— The door burst open. Phil Dunnway rushed into the room, suit rumpled, tie unknotted. “Don’t say a word!” Phil blasted to his client. “If there’s a deal on the table, I want to hear it.” Christ. Clark shook his head.
