DECEMBER
December 1st
Emmett and I stopped by the Honorable Daniel T. Webster's chambers today.
When I greeted him as "Judge Webster," the large man waved it off. "We're no longer in the courtroom. Please call me Daniel."
His spacious sunlit office looked out on the parking lot where my old car sat. Hanging plants dangled from hooks in front of the windows and the walls were paneled. A huge collection of old books filled the shelves that lined the opposite wall. A glance at a couple of spines revealed that many of them were fiction. I wondered if he read them or just collected them.
He directed us toward a large red leather couch placed beneath the window, seating himself at one end, inviting Emmett to sit near him. Though he was dressed in a red polo and slacks, and wearing—of all th
