“No. Just an answer, please.” She smiled.
Jerome smiled back and popped the cinnamon-flavored mint in his mouth as he continued. “Like the fact that she’s trying way too hard. I believe she’s frightened about the possibility of going to prison, ’cause trust me, I know how scary that thought can be. But she sits at that defendant’s table, looking like she just walked out of a haunted house, eyes all big, shaking like somebody just carjacked her or something. That’s some straight-up acting.”
Erica frowned. “I disagree. She looks that way because, like you said, she’s frightened. Not everyone can put up a strong front. If she was guilty, she’d probably be as cool as a fan, because that’s how slick criminals think.”
“What do you know about how criminals think?”
Erica didn’t have a good answer. She had to admit that she didn’t have up close and personal experience in matters of criminal activity other than the police dramas she’d seen on TV. But she trusted her gut, and just as her gut told her that Jerome was a good man, it told her that Ms. Slater was an innocent woman. “I know what my gut tells me.”
“It’s important to trust your instincts. That’s how I make most of my decisions. But my instincts tell me she’s guilty. Have you noticed that she’s never, and I mean not once, looked into the eyes of one single person on this jury? She barely turns her head our way.”
“That’s not true. She looked at me the very first day of the trial, during opening arguments.”
“You sure she looked at you or just in your direction?”
Erica thought for a moment, her mind churning as she replayed the courtroom scenes from the last two days. She remembered the defendant looking her way, but she couldn’t say with certainty that she’d seen Ms. Slater make direct eye contact with her or any of the members of the jury.
“Think about it,” Jerome continued. “When people have something to hide, they usually can’t look you in the eye. Plus, there’s other things she’s done that got me suspicious.”
“Like what?” By now Erica had abandoned her coffee and was listening intently to Jerome’s assessment.
“When the prosecution witnesses are testifying, every now and then she’ll start nervously tapping her pen on the pad in front of her. I think it’s because what they’re saying is true and she wants them to shut up.”
Erica hadn’t noticed that detail, but she made a mental note to look for the gesture from this point forward. “Is that the only other thing?”
“No. I’ve also noticed that she stares down every eyewitness the prosecution calls.”
“But I thought you said a person who has something to hide can’t look you in the eyes.”
Jerome smiled. “See, that’s where a criminal mind comes into play. She ain’t gonna look at us, because she wants us to believe the lie she’s hiding. But those people who worked with her, who are testifying against her, she already knows that they know her ass is lyin’, so she can look at them ’cause she don’t give a damn about what they think.”
“You make some good points. But, Jerome, I believe her. Some of the electronic time sheets that the prosecution says she turned in could’ve been doctored by someone in her department, or they could’ve had someone in IT do it. You can do anything with a computer. And trust me, I know how easy it is for people to set a trap for you on the job.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that. But even if they changed up her time sheets to make it look like she was double billing, why did she accept all that overtime money if she knew she didn’t earn it? The records showed that a fat direct deposit went into her bank account every month, and she knew it was more than she was supposed to be gettin’.”
Erica had to admit it was a question she’d asked herself. “I guess she felt like, ‘Hey, I’ll give it back if I get caught, but if I don’t, then I’m gonna keep it.’ I know that’s not ethical, but it’s also not illegal, and it’s not embezzlement or deliberate fraud, which is what they’re trying to pin on this poor woman.”
Erica was expecting a quick rebuff. She’d learned last night that Jerome was quite the debater, and she loved hearing his point of view. But instead of responding to what she’d just said, he was silent.
“You’re not saying anything?”
Jerome leaned in close. “I like that you see the good in people. That’s a real nice quality.” He moved a little closer, placing his mouth so close to her ear, she could feel his warm breath on her skin. He breathed in deeply, and then exhaled. “I love the way you smell.”
Erica nearly melted in her seat. His warm, cinnamon-scented breath was intoxicating. She drank in his dark, clean-shaven face, which was as handsome as any magazine model’s, and his penetrating eyes, which made her feel shamelessly horny. She wanted to brush her tongue across his full lips and taste the cherry-flavored ChapStick she’d watched him apply when they first arrived this morning. She could feel the heat rising between them, but all of a sudden their moment was stolen when the door opened.
“Well, good morning, you two,” Maude said with a generous smile.
Erica quickly sat back in her chair, pulling herself away from the kiss she’d fantasized about placing on Jerome’s mouthwatering lips.
“Good morning, Ms. Maude,” they both said in union.
“How’s it going?” Erica asked.
“Wonderful! I’m really looking forward to today’s testimonies. I thought I had a pretty good idea about how things were shaping up until yesterday afternoon. But now I just don’t know what to think. One thing’s for sure. This case has surely proven that there can be two very different sides to the same story.”
Just then, four other jurors arrived, with Sasha leading the way. The brazen bombshell walked around the table, casting her sights on Jerome. Erica knew what the woman was up to, and she didn’t appreciate the bold show of disrespect one bit. She’d read the woman’s sneaky intentions from day one, and she knew that Sasha was a shark swimming in the tank, looking for smaller fish to devour. And although Erica found her to be overly made up and a bit obnoxious, she knew that men, particularly those on the jury, found her attractive. She looked at Sasha’s overflowing breasts and slim features from head to toe and wondered if Jerome found her attractive, too.
Just as jealousy’s serpent was about to roar, Erica’s question was answered when Jerome focused his eyes and attention on her, leaned in near her ear, and softly whispered, “Did I tell you that I’m really feelin’ you?”
Chapter 20
Erica took copious notes as she listened closely to the eyewitness currently testifying for the prosecution. The prim middle-aged woman was delivering damaging information, alleging that Ms. Slater had routinely goofed off on the one day a week that she came into the office at the company’s downtown D.C. location. According to the witness, shoe shopping, Facebooking, tweeting, and games of solitaire were the defendant’s work assignments of choice during the morning, before taking a two-and-a-half-hour lunch and then leaving an hour early to round out her workday.
“If those were her work habits when she come into the office, I can only imagine what she did at home,” the woman said.
“Leading!” the defense attorney objected.
As Ms. Maude wrote vigorously, taking in the details of the defense’s cross-examination, Erica studied the placid look on Ms. Slater’s face. She searched for subtle gestures and body language that would give clues to the woman’s guilt or innocence. She thought about what Jerome had said, and he was right. Ms. Slater was looking dead on into the eyes of her former coworker on the stand, but not once had she even glanced in the direction of the jury box.
Erica remembered Ashley once telling her that attorneys often instructed their clients to try to make some kind of connection with the jury. That way they became a person, and not just a defendant. “It’s easier to convict a defendant whom you don’t know versus a person who may be innocent,” she had said. Ms. Slater hadn’t looked at one single member of the twelve-person ju
ry all morning, yet her eyes were glued like a laser on the witness sitting on the stand.
Erica felt conflicted, because although Ms. Slater now appeared to be less than credible, there was still the possibility that she was innocent. In Erica’s mind, there were just too many variables to draw a definitive conclusion at this point, and she now understood what Ms. Maude had said earlier—she didn’t know what to think, either.
Just as Erica was about to flip to the next page of her notepad, she felt Jerome’s leg graze hers and then rest there for a moment. She had to stop herself from smiling. She glanced to her right to look at him and was startled when she saw something scribbled on his clean white notepad, which he’d tilted in her direction. She focused in on his surprisingly neat penmanship and read the words, Told you so!
It was early Friday afternoon, and after a week’s worth of documents, evidence, and testimonies, nearly every juror, except Ms. Maude, was pissed. They were ready to wrap up the case and move on with their regular day-to-day lives, but Ms. Slater had thrown a kink into their plans.
Shortly before their lunch recess, Ms. Slater had been scheduled to take the stand in her defense. Everyone on the jury had anxiously been anticipating her testimony, which would be the last of the trial, before closing arguments were made. But that wasn’t to happen, because just as Ms. Slater rose from the defendant’s table to take the stand, her legs became like Twizzlers sticks beneath her, giving way as she collapsed to the floor. She landed on her back, swept her hand across her forehead, and cried, “Oh, Lord, be with me, Father God! Oh, Father God!”
The attorneys for both sides rose from their seats, and Ms. Slater’s lawyer quickly dashed to her side. A few of the jurors gasped at the sight of the woman sprawled out on the floor, calling on the Lord. The bailiff rushed to the spot where Ms. Slater lay, and within a few minutes paramedics were removing her from the courtroom on a gurney.
The judge ordered the court recessed until they were able to determine when Ms. Slater would be able to take the stand again. “The court will be in contact with you,” he said before banging his gavel and dismissing the jurors.
Back in the jury room, a ruckus started to brew.
“Did you see that fake shit?” one of the jurors said, throwing his notepad down on the table. “She didn’t want to take the stand, because she knows she’s guilty as hell.”
“Watch your mouth, young man,” Ms. Maude said. “That woman could be experiencing a very serious medical emergency. Don’t be so quick to judge, especially when you don’t have any facts or knowledge of her health status. Remember, innocent until proven guilty.”
Sasha rolled her eyes. “I agree with him. It looked fake to me, too. She fell down like a no-talent actress in a B grade movie. She even laid her hand across her head and pushed back the front of that jacked-up weave she’s wearing.”
“She should be ashamed of herself for pulling God into that stunt,” another juror chimed in.
Ms. Maude shook her head in frustration. It didn’t take long before a heated debate ensued as juror after juror loudly voiced their opinion about Ms. Slater’s sudden attack. Erica was afraid they might soon need a referee, because tempers were escalating by the minute.
“Let’s all calm down,” Jerome said. His deep voice boomed against the walls, and his commanding authority silenced every person in the room. “We all have our individual views, so let’s be respectful of that. The only thing we can all agree on at this moment is the fact that none of us has any real proof of Ms. Slater’s current medical condition. All we can do at this point is wait for a call from the court about when the trial will resume. Outside of that, we all need to leave and enjoy an early start to our weekend.”
By the time Jerome delivered his last word, Erica was so turned on, she wanted him to take her right there on the jury table. His short speech had settled everyone down, but it had fired her up!
The jurors began to quickly gather their things in preparation to leave. Erica walked over to Ms. Maude to check on her because she still seemed a little upset. She knew that the dear old lady was the only person who’d been noticeably invested in the trial from the start. “Are you okay?” she asked.
As Erica listened to Ms. Maude’s lament over the case, she looked out the corner of her eye and saw Sasha slither across the room to where Jerome was standing.
She watched as Sasha smiled coyly, tilting her head to the side as she gazed up at Jerome through heavily frosted, amber-colored eyelids. Her move was classic seductress style, and Erica recognized it because she’d seen Ashley lure man after man with the same not-so-innocent gesture.
“You can’t judge when you don’t have all the facts,” Ms. Maude said. “That was at the top of the list of instructions they gave us on the first day.”
Erica smiled and nodded her head, but she was only half listening, because her attention was mostly focused on the interaction across the room between Jerome and Sasha. She watched Jerome as he smiled politely and then looked in her direction, as though he’d been caught cheating on a test. As soon as their eyes met briefly, he looked away, turning his attention back to the woman in front of him.
Erica immediately remembered the discussion they’d had earlier in the week about how a guilty person couldn’t look you in the eye. If that was the case, she wondered what he was hiding.
Just as she’d made a mental note to check out Jerome’s courtroom observations, she made one to remind herself to ask him about Sasha. Her gut, along with his body language, told her that there was definitely more to their interaction than what met the eye.
Jerome was glad he’d been able to calm the flaring tempers in the jury room, but when Sasha walked up to him, he sensed a new kind of trouble was about to erupt.
It wasn’t until yesterday that he’d finally put his finger on why she had unsettled him from her first hello, and now he wanted nothing more than to get the hell away from her. But he knew he had to be as polite as possible because anything could pop off when dealing with a woman like Sasha Moore. Plus, he was all too aware of Erica’s watchful eyes. Even though she appeared to be talking with Ms. Maude, he knew she was watching his every move from across the room.
“Since it’s lunchtime, why don’t we grab a quick bite?” Sasha suggested. “My treat.”
Jerome smiled and shook his head. “Sorry. I won’t be able to do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t.”
Sasha folded her arms as her lips grew into a pout. “That’s not a reason.”
“It’s the only one I’ve got.”
“I’m not good enough for you to eat with?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He had a feeling that she knew he’d figured out who she was, and within seconds she opened her mouth and confirmed his hunch.
“Why you tryin’ to play me, Jerome? I could tell you didn’t remember me at first, but I know you do now.”
Jerome wasn’t one to stress, not even in tense situations that would have sent most men into a sweat. He always tried to remain in control of his emotions, no matter the challenge facing him, including the one in front of him now. The only problem was that he couldn’t control Sasha’s actions.
He hoped she had matured over the years and that she wouldn’t show her ass in public, which, from what he could remember, she was very capable of doing. But in the unfortunate event that she did go off, Jerome knew they were in the right place, because he’d just take the escalator downstairs and file a compliant against her quicker than she could blink.
“Well?” she said, waiting for his response.
“Yes, Sasha, I remember you. But that doesn’t change my answer.”
“Oh, I see. Now that you got a job with the city and a little construction hustle on the side, you think you all that. You ain’t got no love for a neighborhood chick, huh?” She rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue against her teeth. “You tryin’ to roll uptown now,” she smirked, glancing in Erica’s
direction.
She’d just let him know that either she’d done some checking around about his current status or she’d never lost touch with his life’s movements. Whatever the case, Sasha was trouble, and he didn’t want any part of it.
Jerome held her gaze with a slightly hard edge. “What I do and who I choose to do it with are my business, and no concern of yours. I’m trying to be respectful, so let’s just leave it at that and wish each other a good weekend.”
Instead of getting loud and drawing attention to them, as he’d thought she might do, Sasha took a deep breath and formed her lips into a vindictive smile. “You’re still the same smooth-talkin’, two-timin’, triflin’ muthafucka who drove my cousin crazy.”
“Tawanna was a nut job before I met her. And by the way, she’s the one who came after me, remember?”
“Only because you tricked her into thinking you loved her, and then your sorry ass betrayed her, and that’s what drove her crazy. You’ve never loved nobody but yourself.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know more than you think. You just like all the other dogs out there, always chasin’ behind a new bitch.”
Jerome’s voice grew quiet as he spoke. “You don’t know shit about me, so I’ma straighten you out about a few things right now. The last time I laid eyes on you, you were in—what? Tenth or eleventh grade?”
Sasha looked away, then down toward the floor.
He went on. “Yeah, I remember you alright, you were on my tip even back then. So don’t try to act all righteous, like you were so concerned about your cousin.”
“Yo ass ain’t all that.”
“Maybe not. But like I said, who I am or what I do isn’t your concern.”
“You couldn’t handle a woman like me, anyway,” Sasha smirked, flipping her long tresses with her hand.
“I overlooked you back then because you were just a girl, and I’ma do the same thing now because you still are. So now that we’ve both laid down our piece, why don’t we let it go at that?”
Breaking All My Rules Page 15
