by Lexi Blake
In the hours since she’d nearly gotten herself killed, he’d done a bit of research on her. She’d been Trey Adams’s personal attorney for years. She’d interned for the Guardians’ front office to get some business experience under her belt and then gone to work for Trey straight out of Yale Law. From what he could tell, she’d become very close to Portia Adams over those years, and when Trey left the league, she left with him. She had a total of six clients, but Trey was absolutely the most important person she represented and the one she spent the most time on. She also represented two other football players, an MLB pitcher, and a famous competitive ice skater, and she handled a team owner’s personal business.
She knew this family inside and out. She was going to be invaluable, but he had to make sure she trusted him.
“This is why you wanted me to get the medical records.” Noah shook his head. “I thought that was weird when you asked me to do that this morning. I should have known you had a reason.”
“I need to keep all our options open.” Even one where he used CTE as grounds for an insanity defense. He turned back to Isla. “How many people know Trey has CTE?” He was surprised they’d managed to keep it quiet this long. From what he’d seen, Trey was pretty far along in the disease.
She bit her bottom lip and her eyes shifted as though she was counting mentally. “Not many. Maybe ten people. His medical doctors, his psychiatrist, Port . . . obviously his wife knew, and Miranda and Oscar, his kids. I’m fairly certain a couple of his old teammates know, but I don’t think they talked to him about it.” She took a deep breath. “Carey Kendrick.”
That was interesting. “The owner of the New York Guardians knows about the diagnosis?”
She nodded. “He’s not a bad man. I know he’s flamboyant, but he cares about his players. Portia went to him when it first became clear something was wrong. Carey was the one who brought in the doctors. He was very concerned. I’ve already talked to him today. He offered to pay your fees, but Portia was careful with the money Trey made. There’s more than enough for his defense.”
She likely would have said more, but the door to Trey’s room opened and a doctor came out.
He turned toward the doctor, determined to find out something. Anything. Noah stepped up beside him.
“Doctor?”
The white-haired doc stopped, folding a clipboard against his side. “You must be the defense attorney.”
“Yes, David Cormack, and this is my associate, Noah Lawless. When can I talk to my client?”
“Doctor, when can we talk to Mr. Adams?” Osborne strode up, and David had to wonder if someone had texted him. “It’s imperative that we get some information out of him. I also want a full toxicology report done. I want to know every single drug that man is on.”
Noah frowned at the ADA. “You can’t talk to our client without one of us in the room.”
Osborne looked positively smug. “I don’t know that he’s your client, Lawless. I’d like to hear that from him. From what I understand, Cormack here hasn’t even had a conversation with him yet. Also, he hasn’t asked for an attorney, so we’ll have to see about that.”
Isla stepped up. “I have the right to hire representation for him. I have his power of attorney.”
Osborne frowned at her. “We’ll see about that. Doctor, what’s wrong with Adams? How long before the drugs leave his system?”
The doctor shrugged. “I don’t think it’s going to be safe to let the drugs leave his system. According to the medications he’s on and what his personal physician told me, that could be dangerous. He’s asleep right now. When he wakes up we’ll have pysch come and evaluate him.”
“I need to get my forensics team in,” Osborne complained. “We weren’t able to finish processing him. I don’t know if he’s got defensive wounds or DNA under his nails.”
“You can bring them in,” the doctor said. “He’s heavily sedated at this point. The room is large enough that you can have a witness in there as well. We’ve taken blood and tissue samples. I will tell you he’s got some cuts on his feet, one of which was significant and needed several stitches. I don’t know when it occurred. I had to suture the wound to stop the bleeding.”
Osborne shook his head. “I bet you fuckers planned this. I bet you told him to pull that stunt to get the body evidence thrown out.”
“I certainly didn’t, but I will absolutely bring that up when we get to court.” David would use anything and everything he could.
Noah picked up on his line of thinking. “How many cops hit him? You know you can’t use his clothes now as evidence. They’ve been compromised.”
“Compromised? Because officers had to put your guy on the ground? He wrestled a gun away from an officer. How many cops should I have allowed your client to murder?” Royce asked.
“He was only a danger to himself.” Now, that he was not completely sure of, but he wouldn’t let the ADA know.
“Or he’s actually quite smart and he and his attorney planned things out this way.” Osborne stared at Isla like she might grow fangs and bite him at any moment.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Isla settled her purse over her shoulder, facing down the ADA.
He nodded to someone behind David and his hand came out, gesturing for them to join the group. “It means it’s time to start getting to the bottom of this. Officer, please escort Ms. Shayne to the station house. Take her out the front.”
David stepped in front of her. “Excuse me? What exactly do you think you’re doing? Are you arresting her? Under what charges?”
“I don’t need a charge,” Osborne said. “She’s a material witness. She’s the one who found the body, and I’m going to find out if she’s the one who scrubbed evidence and made certain her client knew exactly how to get potential evidence against him thrown out. And you better hope I can’t connect her to you, Cormack, or I’ll have your license, too.”
Isla’s blue eyes had gone wide and she tried to pull away from where the officer had taken her elbow in his big hand. “If you have questions, I’ll answer them. I’ve already talked to Detective Campbell.”
Osborne shrugged. “I don’t think Detective Campbell is focusing on what he needs to focus on. I don’t think he’s seeing the bigger picture.”
“And I think you’re very into crazy conspiracy theories,” David shot back. “Or you want to distract me so I can’t get in there with my client when the time comes.”
It was right there, the impulse to drop absolutely everything and deal with her. The minute Osborne had threatened her, he’d practically forgotten she wasn’t his client. He’d gone into hyperprotective mode.
He could stay here and protect his client, or he could go with Isla and protect her. Because of the state of his client’s mental capacity, he could easily see Trey Adams getting confused and telling the ADA anything he wanted to hear.
Or he could block the ADA another way.
“Noah, call Henry. Have someone file an emergency motion to have Trey Adams evaluated for mental and medical competence. I want him kept out of gen pop and placed in a medical facility where they can take care of his condition.”
Osborne shook his head. “I assure you the doctors at Rikers have handled drug detox before. They’ll take good care of him.”
“I bet they’ve never handled CTE,” David shot back. He started to follow the officers currently dragging Isla toward the elevators. “Tell Henry to hurry. We fear not only for our client’s health and well-being, but also for the well-being of those around him.”
The ADA looked confused. “Are you talking about the same thing that took out Junior Seau? You telling me Trey Adams has that?”
“Yes, that is what I’m telling you, so let’s can the adrenaline and calm down.” He needed to lower the testosterone in the room. He also needed to get to Isla.
Osborne wasn’t having
it. “You’re bluffing. Two minutes in and you already have a defense. I should have known you would do this. Gentlemen, let’s get down to the station, where we can have a nice chat with Ms. Shayne.” He pulled out his cell. “Kenny, yeah, you’re going to need to read up on everything you can about CTE. I want to know how we keep a CTE patient in with the general population and out of a psych ward. What do you mean you don’t know what that is? Yes, there was a Will Smith movie about it, but that’s not going to help you in legal discourse.” He cursed under his breath. “No, you don’t have time to fucking watch it. Get me someone else. Someone with half a damn brain.”
Noah was already on the phone and had taken up a place near Adams’s room. He nodded David’s way, giving him obvious permission to go and meet Isla.
The cops had her at the elevator. He raced to catch up with her. The elevator doors closed before he could. He cursed under his breath and pushed the button to call another one.
And vowed to find a way to get a pizza delivered to Noah. He was going to need it.
* * *
• • •
Yep, this was a side of the law she hadn’t meant to get closely acquainted with. She preferred the type of legal drama that required her to negotiate multimillion-dollar deals and then celebrate with champagne. She liked princess law.
This was criminal law and it smelled like stale coffee, body odor, and serious regret. Like hyper-bad-life-choices-style regret. And feet.
She found herself in a police procedural, like the ones on TV, and it was apparent she had been cast in the part of suspect for this particular episode.
She glanced up at the two-way mirror and wondered if Royce Osborne was enjoying his day. Was he planning on breaking protocol and questioning her himself?
And it was cold in here. She glanced at the clock. How was it only a bit past one in the afternoon? It should be much later. What a horrible day, and now she was alone and she would have to make things worse because she wasn’t about to talk to the police without an attorney present. They’d taken her cell phone and locked her in this freezing room after parading her in front of that army of reporters.
She wiped away a tear, trying not to think about how scared she’d been as they muscled her through a sea of press. She was supposed to be tougher than this. She’d better be because they might shove her in a cell when they realized she wouldn’t talk without a lawyer. Oh, she would get the whole routine—why do you need a lawyer if you haven’t done anything wrong—but this was too important. She was shell-shocked. Emotional. She needed someone watching out for her rights.
At least David would take care of Trey. Maybe he would send someone down here for her. It had all happened so fast she’d barely managed to look at him before they hauled her off.
He’d been staring down Royce and looking big and manly compared to Royce’s slender metro masculinity. David Cormack was solid. He looked like a man she could count on.
He reminded her a little of Austin before the disease had ravaged his body.
Naturally she would think about him today. Today she’d seen her second dead body.
She didn’t want to think about that. No. Not today. She couldn’t break down again. How long could they hold her? Technically they couldn’t keep her in custody unless there was no other way to gain her testimony. She was willing to comply, so she might be able to argue her way out of a jail cell for the night. If she was willing to give her statement, she could argue that if they could secure her testimony by deposition, they couldn’t legally detain her as a material witness. She intended to cooperate fully, but she didn’t want to be taken into custody.
The door opened and Detective Campbell stepped in, followed by his partner, a woman he’d introduced as Detective Garza.
So Royce was staying behind the mirror. Coward.
She turned to the detectives. “I would like to speak with an attorney. Until I do I’m exercising my Miranda rights.”
“Where’d the obnoxious one go?” Garza asked, glancing back. “The ADA’s been up my backside for an hour and now he disappears?”
“He said something about coffee,” Campbell replied before looking at her. “You know this is merely a witness statement. I’m not sure why you think you need an attorney, Ms. Shayne.”
“Because she’s far too smart to say a word in a police station without someone protecting her constitutional rights.” David Cormack walked through the door carrying his briefcase and clutching a disposable cup of the aforementioned stale-smelling coffee. She’d kill for a Starbucks tall vanilla latte.
But suddenly she wasn’t weary, because he was here. She couldn’t help how her body seemed to relax now that he was in the room with her. Her thoughts, jangled and ragged moments before, were much clearer because David was here. How could she trust him that way in the brief time she’d known him? “Is Noah with Trey?”
David nodded as he set his briefcase down on her side of the table. “And Henry should be there by now. Our partner Margarita Reyes is drafting an emergency motion and we’ve found a judge who’ll hear it this afternoon. She’s contacted his personal physician and he’s going to testify. Though, at this point, he hasn’t been arrested for the murder. He has been arrested for the scene with the gun, and they do have him on a 5150 hold. But I think we can keep him in a private facility.”
Unless the judge was completely heartless, Trey would likely be held at the hospital for a few days. Isla had been terrified at the thought of him being shipped out to Rikers if they arrested him. He had trouble remembering at home lately. She couldn’t imagine what would happen in a chaotic, foreign environment. “Thank you. And thank you for coming. I know you can’t represent me, but I appreciate you being here.”
He could advise her. He could make sure she didn’t say anything stupid.
“I’m looking out for you, and quite frankly, I’m ready to hear a few actual facts about the case.” He looked down at his cup and frowned. “I only got one. Do you want it?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
He smiled and his whole face lit up. “Good, because this is the best coffee I’ve had in a while.”
Garza shook her head. “Are you insane? That tastes like motor oil, and not new motor oil. Like the kind that’s way overdue for a change.”
David sighed and looked younger than before. “It’s perfect.”
He had horrible taste in coffee, but she was happy to see him. She turned back to the detectives. “All right. What can I help you with?”
“I’d like you to state for the record your name and relationship to the victim,” Campbell said, getting down to business.
Victim. How was Portia the victim? “My name is Isla Shayne and I am the personal attorney to the Adams family. I do everything from managing their business deals to helping them find real estate for the various retail operations they’re invested in to advising them on school choices for their kids. I’m a legal girl Friday.”
“How did you come to be at the penthouse in the early hours of this morning?” The detective stared at her with world-weary eyes.
David stood up and shrugged out of his coat. “Here, you’re shaking. It’s cold in here, but I’ve always run a little hot.”
He placed his suit coat around her shoulders and she was immediately enveloped in warmth. Some of his body heat clung to the designer coat, making it toasty and warm. And it smelled like him. She forced herself not to sniff the wool.
“Thanks,” she said, turning back to the detective. “I received a call at a little after two A.M. from Miranda Adams.”
“That’s the victim’s daughter?” Garza asked.
“Yes, she’s the younger of their two children. Oscar is their son. Miranda is a junior at Columbia University and Oscar is an aspiring artist who lives in Brooklyn. I think they would say not living on the island is his way of rebelling.”
; David put a hand on her arm, just a pat, and she realized she was rambling.
Stick to the facts. Stay calm.
“Miranda called and told me she’d had a distressing phone call from her father. She couldn’t tell what he was saying but she was worried. She asked if I would meet her at the penthouse.”
“And you said this was after two this morning?” Campbell asked.
“That’s easily verifiable with her phone records,” David pointed out. “I assume you’ve already taken her phone.”
She flushed. “I shouldn’t have given it to them. I know that.”
“You’re insanely tired. You’ve had no food and you’re practically in shock. That’s what they’re counting on. And that’s why I’m here. To make sure this meeting doesn’t go on for hours. Ms. Shayne will give an initial account, but I’m walking her out of here in an hour and I’m taking her home. She’ll be available to the police again after she’s slept.”
Garza’s eyes hardened. “Or we can arrest her as an accessory after the fact. Some people think that’s exactly what happened.”
She could hear Royce saying all those things.
David started to stand. “That’s an entirely different conversation. We will need to obtain proper representation. Until then, she will be at her home.”
Campbell held up a hand, the obvious voice of reason. “Garza, don’t let that ADA get you in a froth. Can we get a timeline, please? We’re all tired. I don’t want to be here any more than you do. Could you please continue, Ms. Shayne? And I personally thank you for letting us examine your phone. It certainly goes a long way to make me believe you’re telling me the truth.”
She looked at David. She didn’t want him to think she was a total idiot. “It was my personal line. I have two cell phones. One is purely business and the other is for friends and family. They would have pried my business phone out of my cold, dead hands no matter how tired I am.”
“I wasn’t judging.”
