The Summons John Grisham Novels & Stories

Every word had scraped my throat raw. But the phone call? That was something else entirely. I reached across the nightstand with a clumsy hand, the phone vibrating angrily against the wood. For a moment I considered letting it ring out, burying myself back under the sheets, but instinct made me answer. “Stella Harrington?” The voice was crisp, official. No warmth. No hesitation. “Yes.” “You’ve been summoned to a hearing regarding unresolved inheritance claims. Courthouse, downtown. Noon.” No explanation. No names. Just a summons, dropped like a stone into my morning.

And I want to know why my father believes he has the right to tell my tale without asking. "Okay. Then that is what we will do. "We?" "Grace, if your father is correct about Santos, then we were both duped by someone we trusted. If he's incorrect, he's spreading misinformation about a federal agent who saved our lives. Either way, this affects both of us. That evening, they drove to the major bookstore downtown, where Patricia had stated that advance copies were available for media inspection. The book was titled "Justice Delayed: A Prosecutor's Memoir," and Richard Patterson's portrait on the back cover depicted a man Grace scarcely recognized……... .older, grayer, and wearing the kind of sa

Just when I was about feeling bad that Jason Black could not give me all of his attention as needed, a call came in on my phone; it was Medley, who told me she would like us to meet with her family doctor, Professor Grisham, an orthopedist. I immediately agreed, and so, she asked me to wait for her at the base while she and her new driver, Jason Black, who also looked like a bodyguard, would come over to pick me up. Meanwhile, at the station, her superior officer called upon Jessica Strauss. He asked her ‘I hope you ain’t digging up the Black Jackson’s bones and carcasses, that case is a top federal case?....’ ‘Andwho made it federal,’ Strauss immediately interrupted.

Damon's POV The summons arrived before noon. The legal secretary delivered it in person, refused coffee, and waited for my signature to confirm receipt. The message was brief but final. Reconcile fully before the next board session or lose my structured inheritance and every tie to the family trust. I read it twice, because the tone carried her old precision and control disguised as care.

My heart stopped. "What is it?" I inquired, my voice barely a whisper. "A court summons?" I reached for the envelope. "Not exactly, Ma’am," Grace said with a smile. "It's a judicial notice from the high court of Knightstorm Pack. The top court, Boss.” The top court. My breath hitched. My hands trembling, I tore the envelope open. The paper inside was crisp, the ink still smelled fresh. I scanned the writing, my heart hammering in my chest.

Expression carved from stone. “This is what he wanted,” she said quietly. “Yes.” “Are we in trouble?” He didn’t answer immediately. He walked over, took her phone gently, and turned it off. “Not the way he thinks.” That wasn’t reassurance. That was strategy. And she knew the difference now. By noon, a federal summons arrived. Not an arrest. Not an indictment. A request for testimony. Lewis read it once. Then handed it to his legal counsel. “It’s happening faster than expected,” his attorney said quietly.

I walked straight to it and pushed open the door. Damian’s office was exactly what I had expected: cold, polished, and utterly impersonal. The dark leather chair behind the desk was empty. I almost sighed in relief. But then I saw the documents stacked neatly on his desk, the summons I had just received resting on top. He hadn’t even bothered to look over it yet. I slammed the summons onto the desk, my breath coming fast. “You don’t get to take her from me, Damian,” I said, my voice a sharp edge of fury. “You have no right.”

Of how easily I could turn and let his arms close around me again, even knowing what those arms have cost me. Adrian’s phone vibrates on the desk. Once. Twice. A third time—sharp and insistent. He glances at the screen, and I watch the last traces of color drain from his face. “What is it?” I ask quietly. He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he picks up the phone with a hand that isn’t quite steady. His thumb scrolls once. Then he goes very still. “A summons,” he says at last, voice low and rough. “From the court. Preliminary proceedings on Margaret Lawson’s appeal.”

Cordy couldn’t resist asking. "It's going well," John said. "Just received the court summons on the 27th, which means I have twelve days." "Don't lie to me, John," Cordy said. Her heart skipped a beat, as she was suddenly afraid to face the outcome of the trial because she lacked confidence. She had no idea how confident John was, either. What if it was game over for everyone? "I'd never dare," John said humbly. "I'm being serious." "Don't worry," John assured her. "If I'm really locked up for the rest of my life, I'll let you marry someone else."

Grinch exhaled through his teeth as though he’d been counting the seconds, “Sombra Azul Sundance Eve is tomorrow. John is coming back.” “And you waited this long to say it?” Antonio demanded. Grinch didn’t react. “Breanna’s people already caught scent and She’ll tear through your walls with his information” Without waiting to be dismissed, he turned and walked out. Seconds later, everyone heard a car's engine roar and zoom off the precinct. Antonio stood motionless for a beat, then uncurled his fist, knuckles white. “Get the cars operational— we’re intercepting John tomorrow.” —--