Mister didn't like my answer, and he was not about to be denied. Yeah, that's it. Get me the tax records for everybody here. And he used the gun when he shouted. I called Rudolph, who also hesitated, and so I shouted at him.
Last year's only.
We stared at the fax machine in the corner for fifteen minutes, afraid Mister might start executing us if our 1040's didn't hurry along. Excerpted from The Street Lawyer by John Grisham. Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.