Life Sentence

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Life Sentence Page 4

by Carolyn Arnold


  “That night at Leroy’s, I was there.” She shifted in her chair. “I know what happened.”

  Bryan knew it was a bad idea to meet with her and this confirmed it. “I don’t need to know. Tomorrow I give my closing argument, and the case is out of my hands.” He placed both his hands on the table and went to get up. She reached across the table and placed her hand on his.

  “Please, this won’t take long.” Her eyes beseeched him.

  He sat back down in time for his drink to be placed in front of him.

  “Your wings will be just a moment longer,” the waitress told him.

  Bryan ran his fingers through his hair with the one hand and raised his drink with the other. He took a large gulp and savored the soft burn at the back of his throat. “I don’t really need to know any of this. In fact, I’d prefer not—”

  “You need to know.”

  Those four words sat out there for a good twenty seconds.

  “I shot Leroy.”

  Bryan’s stomach tightened. His chest heaved rendering him speechless. He wondered why this woman would feel the need to confess this to him. She wasn’t being investigated for the homicide. Then it struck him, the unidentified prints and female DNA. Their owner sat right across from him. His glare intensified, and he didn’t know what question to ask first.

  “Dimi—” She stopped there when the waitress placed his order of wings in front of him.

  “There you go. Anything else I can get you?” The waitress asked.

  He could tell by the flirtatious overture to her voice that the waitress desired an opportunity to match eyes with him, but he refused to give her the satisfaction. He kept his attention on Maxine when he told the server he required nothing further.

  With her gone, Maxine continued, “Dimitre made me.”

  Bryan took another swallow of his drink. “Now, why would he make you do something like that?”

  “I was doing Leroy. He found out. Classic case, I guess.”

  “Classic case,” Bryan mocked her last words. “Most people who are cheated on don’t make their unfaithful partner shoot their lover.” His words were sharp, but the volume low. This disclosure changed nothing for him but confirm Dimitre’s innocence.

  “He made me! You don’t believe me, do you? I mean why should you? You come from your flawless life where nothing goes wrong. No person would dare piss on the shoe of Mr. Bryan Lexan.” Her jaw went askew. The fire in her eyes challenged him.

  Bryan admired her attitude. Yet as bold a front as she presented, she shook. That must be what it’s like to be liberated of your confessions, Bryan surmised. Personally, he couldn’t relate.

  “I don’t know why you felt the need to tell me this,” he said.

  She gave him a cold glare. “I just thought you might want to know that if Dimitre walks you’re really setting the killer free.”

  “You just said that you fired the gun.”

  “Only because he made me!” She hunkered down near the table and lowered her voice when she continued, “He stormed into that apartment because he knew I’d be there. He brought the gun. He stood behind me, his arms around me, and held his hands over mine. If I didn’t pull the trigger, he would have anyway. But this way, I get to live.” She straightened, and the fury in her eyes gave way to remorse and pain.

  Bryan didn’t know what she expected of him. Dimitre was his client, and he could defend him in good conscience. He hadn’t pulled the trigger. Maxine had. Her confession just took any trace of doubt from his mind. His client was innocent. This meeting could have come at a better time, earlier in the case, but he would still use it to strengthen his summation.

  His eyes glanced down at the full plate of food in front of him. He hadn’t even touched it, and now he wasn’t hungry. Maxine had taken his appetite.

  Maybe he should feel heartbroken for her, and the traumatic ordeal of shooting her lover, but his mind only found solace in the fact it exonerated Dimitre.

  MEANWHILE THE ENTIRE TIME BRYAN and Maxine were talking, they had an interested audience at the bar. The older man of the two, in his late forties, slugged back a shot of vodka. “He ain’t gonna be happy to hear this.”

  His companion simply shook his head but was otherwise engaged.

  Sergey and Anatolli followed at a distance careful not to be spotted. They were there only for the purpose of observation. Dimitre needed to trust the people in his circle, but he always provided them enough leash to hang themselves.

  Sergey lit a cigarette and took a long drag off it. His lips wrinkled around it from years of the same treatment. He tapped it into his empty glass and followed the gaze of his partner. A young blonde sat alone at a table.

  “Should have known it was a piece of ass,” Sergey said.

  “Hey, I’m going to have to ask you to put that out.” A waitress pointed at Sergey’s cigarette. “No smoking in here. Read the sign.” She nodded her head in the direction of the posting before walking away.

  “Oh, my sincerest apologies.”

  Sergey’s words were dry and filled with sarcasm. He took another large inhale from the cigarette.

  Anatolli smiled. He loved Sergey’s view of life, not a care in the world, only doing what moved him at the moment. His attention went back to the corner booth.

  “Who is the black lady standing at their table?”

  A HAND TOUCHED HIS SHOULDER. “Bryan?”

  He had been so focused on Maxine he never noticed Nella walk by him. She had been in the washroom and caught a glimpse of him on her way out.

  “Hey, hi.”

  He knew he must have come across guilty of something simply by her facial expression.

  Nella’s eyes shifted to Maxine, and back to Bryan. “I hear you’re a busy boy these days.”

  Partially hesitating, Bryan admitted to that assessment. He smiled at her. She kept passing glances at Maxine, but he wasn’t about to introduce her. Then it struck him, Nella’s being there meant Jessica would be. His pulse sped up, but he got it under control.

  “So Jess is here?” He tried to relay excitement in his tone.

  “You should come see her,” Nella said, her eyes on Maxine.

  Bryan looked over his shoulder toward the bar and the dance floor. Jessica’s back was to him.

  He addressed Maxine, “Thank you for your time tonight.” He feigned a curt smile and stood. He made it sound like a business meeting—in a way it was.

  Maxine’s eyes implored him to stay, but he had to leave before Nella went on ahead and pointed him out to Jessica. He had to keep his lives separate. He didn’t want Jessica exposed to this side, for her own safety.

  He stood beside Nella and bent his arm for her to slip hers through. “Lead me to her.”

  -

  Chapter 5

  JESSICA SAT ON HER BALCONY with coffee, her feet hunched under her. It had cooled down considerably from yesterday—the temperature reflected her mood. A breeze blew through her bed-tousled hair. She had called into her work to tell them she’d be in later today.

  She meditated on what Nella had told her when she called last night. She provided her with a full recap of how she had found Bryan. She heard about the back corner booth and the beautiful woman with full lips and a tanned complexion. Nella had said Bryan had appeared guilty like he was found and shouldn’t have been. Apparently, he rushed to leave the table once Nella approached him.

  Her paranoia tightened its grip and rushed her thoughts to conclusions, but it was the excuse he used last night that bothered her the most. He claimed he had to work late. Had he blatantly lied about needing to get some things done? Possibly he had met the woman for business reasons, but then why hadn’t he just mentioned that? Why not openly discuss it when he came over to her? Instead, he said he came for the wings and the whiskey before heading to the office, but as the night went on he
never excused himself. They stayed until around midnight, and it had been her idea to leave.

  She cradled the hot mug in her hands and blew on the coffee before taking a sip. The man she wanted to marry could ultimately end up breaking her heart. She hated it when uncertainties about their relationship went through her mind. It brought with it guilt over the fact he had been there when she was at her lowest point in life.

  IT HAD BEEN THE NIGHT of junior prom when they first connected. Before that he was the rich kid who was just whispered about in the hallways. He wasn’t close to anyone because he didn’t think he should be in the public school system. He told people he belonged in an Ivy League private school. Jessica surmised the reasoning came from his father, not his mother who was more down to earth than dirt.

  It was the end of the night and Jessica’s date, Donnie, was trying to talk her into going to a hotel room, but she had decided days before she wasn’t ready to take that step. His ego bruised by the rejection, he left her standing at the curb with a wilted corsage and a broken heart.

  Bryan, who had been standing at a distance, came over and told her she was better off without the loser. They shared at laugh at Donnie’s expense and carried on a conversation for the first time. Jessica found out that Bryan’s mother had moved him here, but he always assumed his father would come back for him.

  After a few minutes, he said, “I can get you a ride home if you want. Dad’s sending a limo. He said it’s a special night.” Bryan shrugged, obviously unconvinced of that.

  She remembered at the time he had low self-esteem. He hid behind his father’s name and wealth figuring it would be enough to garner respect from others.

  “It’s all right. My Mom’s coming.” She offered him a smile ready to part company when her aunt’s car pulled up.

  “Jess, you need to get in this car right now.” Her Aunt Sandra had a sense of urgency about her when she got out of the car and came toward her. Tears welled in her eyes.

  “What’s—”

  “I’ll tell you in the car, sweetie.”

  At that moment, Jessica’s heart sank and she sensed it tear apart. Something horrible had happened.

  Her mother was supposed to pick her up at any time now. “Where’s Mom?”

  Her Aunt Sandra covered her mouth with her hand and sobbed heavily behind it.

  “Sandra?” Jessica moved in and wrapped her arms around her.

  “I don’t know how else to say this—” She sniffed and pinched the tip of her nose. She passed a look at Bryan, who Jessica had forgotten was there.

  She took Jessica’s hands in hers. “They’re both gone, Jess. They’re both dead.”

  Strength left Jessica’s knees, and she buckled to the concrete.

  Both Sandra and Bryan moved to help her up, but she dismissed them with waves of her hands.

  “What? Why?” Tears poured down her cheeks. “How?”

  “There was a car accident. It happened quickly. They wouldn’t have suffered.”

  “No!”

  Jessica had sat on the ground for minutes after being told her life as she knew it had come to an end. It took all her inner strength to will herself from that spot. She could have stayed on the sidewalk forever.

  The world stopped spinning for her as time came to a halt.

  It was Bryan who set it back into motion.

  BRYAN SAT IN THE COURTHOUSE hallway waiting to deliver his irrefutable closing argument. His concentration should have been on the matter at hand, but he couldn’t get his mind off Jessica. Anxiety over what could have transpired last night gnawed on him. He had no doubt Nella would have filled her in on the details. He knew from Nella’s eyes that she had read the situation incorrectly. She would have blown the situation out of proportion when relaying it to Jessica. But in some ways he was happy for the buffer of being found by the friend and not directly by Jessica. Despite Jessica wanting to project herself as a strong and independent woman, he knew better. Her feelings would have been stung to the point of compromising their relationship. She would have ended things. As it stood he would have to reassure her, dote on her.

  Also causing him torment was worry over Dimitre finding out about his meeting with Maxine. Clear focus on the case escaped his grasp, and only minutes from now he’d be standing in front of a jury. On the positive, thanks to Maxine for cleansing her conscience, his closing argument would convey ironclad conviction. He now knew the man was innocent. He didn’t pull the trigger on Leroy Adams. It had been Maxine, and that technicality provided sanctuary for his conscience.

  “Hey, Bryan, I hope you’re ready to bring it to the table today.” Martin came to a stop in front of him. He was carrying his briefcase and had an armful of files.

  Glancing at all the excess Martin was toting with him gave Bryan a boost of confidence. “Guess we better get in there.” He stood, but caught a glimpse of Dimitre. “You go ahead, Martin.”

  Dimitre’s demeanor revealed contempt, and his nose was wrinkled up. Bryan prayed it was the early hour and he knew nothing about his meeting with Maxine.

  “Good morning.” Bryan held out his hand to Dimitre, but the motion was rebuffed.

  Or not so good morning.

  He brushed past Bryan into the courtroom.

  “Woman problems,” Dimitre said in a low voice.

  In the pit of his gut, Bryan knew Dimitre had been informed about last night. He would remain silent and simply defend his client. Dimitre would be cleared of all charges, and Bryan would go about the carefree existence he led prior to making the acquaintance of the mafia boss. He hoped for Maxine’s sake that her deceitfulness would be forgotten. Otherwise, she would be a dead woman.

  But better her than me.

  The thought rushed through his mind so quickly, he experienced no regret. He followed his client into the courtroom. Dimitre released the door after he walked through, and it sprung back in Bryan’s face.

  Once court commenced, Martin presented his closing statement. He stood in front of the jury gesturing for emphasis and bringing their attention to Dimitre at every opportunity.

  After minutes of presenting his summation, he recapped. “This man, Dimitre Petrov, has a history of violence. He had the means and the motive to kill Leroy Adams. The gun found at the scene is covered with his fingerprints. You heard testimony from an eyewitness that placed Dimitre in Leroy’s apartment at the time he was murdered. He contemplated and planned the attack, storming into Leroy’s apartment on a mission. Therefore, I move you find the defendant Dimitre Petrov, guilty—guilty of murder in the first degree.”

  Martin stepped back from the jury and strode toward his chair.

  Bryan sensed rage emanating from Dimitre on his left. His caricature would have depicted steam pouring from his ears. If only Martin had known the true motive behind the killing. Up until his meeting with Maxine, he had also assumed, like some others, Leroy had crossed him by causing him a financial drain.

  Bryan made his way to the jury.

  “Over the past several months you have heard the facts in this case. Does my client have a bad reputation?” Bryan allowed a few seconds’ pause before answering his question. “Yes, he does, but we cannot judge a man by the acts of his past. We must judge him on the present charge. It is true the murder weapon had Dimitre’s fingerprints, but it is also vital to remember there were unidentified prints on the same gun. These unmatched fingerprints belonged to the killer! The only eyewitness was an ex to my client, out to seek revenge for him leaving her. She can only state under oath she saw him go into Leroy’s apartment. She cannot attest to watching my client pull the trigger. She was so fixated on my client she left the instant he did. If she felt so confident he had committed a murder, why didn’t she call nine-one-one? Or is it not more likely that she was stalking my client and found it convenient to pin a murder on him after hearing the news?”

&
nbsp; Bryan gestured to his client while keeping his focus on the jury. It was imperative to make a connection.

  He made eye contact with a woman in her mid-twenties. She was slender with brown hair and her eyes were a dark blue. They narrowed slightly and she touched a cheek.

  Bryan fought a smile. This was too easy.

  “If you cannot place the gun in Mr. Petrov’s hand and be convinced, without a doubt, it was he who pulled the trigger, thereby putting the deadly bullets into Leroy Adam’s chest, then it is your duty—no, your responsibility to find this man innocent.”

  When Bryan finished, he pulled out on his jacket and communicated silently with the brunette. The tip of her tongue brushed her lips and she bit them. He just hoped she would fight for him in that deliberation room. He tapped the front counter of the jury box and went back to his chair.

  Judge Flannigan said, “Bailiff, please escort the jury to their meeting room for deliberation. Court will reconvene once the verdict has been reached.”

  He banged his gavel and left the bench for his chambers. The jury members were led from the courtroom assuming the weight of guilt or innocence.

  DIMITRE SAID, “Now our fate lies in the hands of damn nobodies. Call me once they have a decision.”

  Bryan realized the stress he added to the words, our fate, and swallowed dryly.

  “Of course.”

  Dimitre left and Martin stood beside Bryan.

  “Bryan, good job, no matter what the outcome. You had a tough one to represent.”

  His words pulled Bryan’s thoughts from a dark path. He glanced down at his watch. “That I did.” His mind registered the time. He could surprise Jessica and go for lunch if he could arrange things that way. First he had to go back to his office. “I better get going. Hope to see you soon.”

  Bryan wished in his soul the jury would deliberate quickly and maybe even make their decision later that day. His experience told him it was improbable, but he clung to the hope.

  He smiled at Martin, nodded and walked away.

 

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