Every Reasonable Doubt

by Pamela Samuels Young

  We locked eyes until she finally looked away. “I’m only trying to help you, Neddy,” I said.

  “We’ll, don’t go doing me any favors. I can handle my own problems.”

  “Fine, then,” I said.

  The minute she stormed out, I headed for David’s office. On my way, I brushed past a paralegal, nearly knocking her into the wall. “Sorry,” I said without slowing down.

  I barged into David’s office and slammed the door shut behind me. “I don’t appreciate you trying to undermine my relationship with Neddy,” I said.

  Starbucks mugs, hats, and other coffee-related souvenirs littered his office. There had to be at least four empty cups in the trash can next to his desk. He even had a poster-size picture of the Starbucks founder hanging over a short bookcase. He was too weird. As much money as he spent on Starbucks coffee, I hoped he owned stock in the company.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, glancing up at me for a quick second, then turning back to the brief in front of him.

  “I’m talking about you telling Neddy that I was jealous of her relationship with Tina Montgomery. Where’d you get that crap from?”

  “Did I lie?”

  I could feel a lump of fury forming in my throat. “I know what you’re trying to do, David, and it’s not going to work.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

  “You’re trying to ruin my relationship with Neddy so you can end up trying this case. But that’ll happen over my dead body.”

  “Ummm,” he said. “Is that what I’m trying to do?”

  “We may have to work together, but we don’t have to like each other. I’m sorry I overshadowed you on the Hayes case. But whatever jealousy you have, you need to deal with it.”

  His laugh was much too loud. I knew that I’d hit a nerve and that knowledge pleased me. He leaned back in his chair and smiled up at me. “What reason would I have to be jealous of you?”

  “I could list them for you, but it would take too much time. Just understand that I know what you’re up to.”

  He looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Get out.”

  “Gladly.”

  CHAPTER 42

  Nowadays, when O’Reilly entered my office, I could tell almost instantly from his body language whether the news was good or bad. From the slump of his shoulders and the way his eyes avoided mine, this news was bad, really bad.

  It had been three days since my square-off with Neddy and I hoped O’Reilly hadn’t gotten wind of our spat.

  “We need to talk,” he said, closing the door and taking a seat across from me.

  “Okay,” I said, eyeing him cautiously.

  “I’m putting Neddy back on the Montgomery case.”

  Before my confrontation with her, I would have considered this good news. Right now, I wasn’t so sure. “You’re not concerned anymore about her being a suspect in her husband’s death.”

  “My sources at the D.A.’s office tell me that’s no longer the case,” he said. “And I think you deserve the credit for that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Neddy was wrong about the time she told the police she left the office the night her husband was killed. Those reports you had Building Security dig up provided the alibi she needed. She drove out of the garage at 10:37 P.M. The security cameras even have her on tape. It would have taken her a good twenty-five minutes to make it to Leimert Park. Lawton was already dead before she’d even pulled out of the garage. And it appears he had a pretty big gambling problem. He owed money, a lot of it, to some very mean dudes. That’s where the police are focusing their investigation now.”

  I was relieved at the news, though I wished it had come before my big blowup with Neddy. “Okay, judging by the look on your face, there must be some bad news along with the good,” I said.

  He looked away. “I’m taking you off the case.” O’Reilly blurted this out as if he were bracing for a verbal barrage from me. “I think you need to regroup from the Hayes case. I’ve put a lot on your shoulders lately. You need a break.”

  “O’Reilly I thought we already had this conversation.”

  “Well, we’re having it again.”

  “So who’ll be handling the case with Neddy?” I asked.

  “David.”

  I briefly closed my eyes and looked away. “No,” I said.

  O’Reilly stared at me. “What did you say?”

  “I said no.”

  “You don’t exactly have a choice in the matter,” he said sternly.

  “I don’t care. You’re not taking me off the case. There’s no reason to.”

  O’Reilly must’ve been as shocked as I was at my defiance. He wasn’t sure what to say next. We’d always had a pretty cool relationship, but I had never seen him tolerate anyone talking to him the way I just did and I knew he didn’t like it.

  “You need a break,” his tone was paternal. “You’ve been under a lot of pressure. You never got a chance to take a breather after that Hayes trial.”

  I was probably kissing partnership goodbye, but I didn’t care. His decision had nothing to do with me needing a break. This was all about my handling of the prelim. “If you’re putting Neddy back on the case, then why take me off? I don’t even think Tina Montgomery likes David.”

  “Frankly after that lecture Judge McKee gave you, I don’t think Tina’s feeling too warm and fuzzy about you either.”

  “So did Tina initiate this?”

  “No, I did,” he said, asserting his authority. “Look, I had no business putting you on this case in the first place. I’d love to give you an opportunity to learn criminal law. But you were right. I was wrong to expect you to cut your teeth on a high-profile case like this.”

  I didn’t respond.

  “And David’s a little concerned that you can’t be objective. He thinks you believe Tina Montgomery is guilty and that may be clouding your judgment.”

  “David’s a prick,” I said.

  “Good lawyers usually are.” O’Reilly laughed.

  I did not laugh along with him.

  “What about all that great publicity you’ll be missing out on,” I said. “‘Two smart, attractive African-American women defending a rich, African-American socialite.’ Weren’t those your words?”

  O’Reilly leaned back in the small chair and allowed it to teeter on its two back legs. “I think this firm’s had quite enough publicity for a while. He rocked the chair forward and hopped up.

  “Wait,” I said, feeling totally hopeless. “I have a compromise.” I stood up and walked up to him.

  He raised a hand to stop me. “Vernetta, the decision’s been made.”

  “Just hear me out.” I softened my voice. Challenging him the way I had was probably a mistake. “Why don’t you let all three of us try the case?”

  He paused. This was not something O’Reilly had considered.

  “We don’t usually staff three attorneys on a criminal case. We—”

  “C’mon, O’Reilly,” I said, pleading with him. “You started this whole thing. I didn’t even want to be on the case to begin with. Now I’m all psyched up about it and you’re tossing me aside. We can consider it a training experience for me. I won’t bill any of my work on it and I’ll still handle all my other cases, too.”

  “Exactly how do you propose to do that?”

  “I have no idea, but I will. I doubt the trial will last more than a few weeks. Judge Graciano runs a tight ship.”

  He paused just long enough for me to know that he was going to grant my wish. “Okay, Vernetta,” he warned. “You can stay on the case. But you better not make me regret this decision.”

  CHAPTER 43

  I was wrong when I thought the verbal spanking from Judge McKee was the most embarrassing moment of my legal career. It wasn’t.

  Early the next morning, I was eating cinnamon French toast prepared by my husband, who was finally beginning to act like his old self again, when a h
eadline on page two of the L.A. Times’ California section made me gag. Lead Attorney on Montgomery Defense Team Ill-Equipped To Handle Case.

  The article went on to basically describe my hearsay screw up during the preliminary hearing and to question why Tina Montgomery would hire an attorney with no criminal law experience. The only good thing about the article was that it ran after my conversation with O’Reilly. If he’d read it first, there was no way I’d still be on the case. Before I could decide whether to scream or cry, the telephone rang.

  “I’m calling to say thanks,” Neddy said, her voice tentative.

  It’s about friggin’ time. “Thanks for what?”

  “For saving my life,” she said gently.

  “I wouldn’t exactly go that far.”

  “I would,” she said, with clear regret. “I’m sorry I went off on you. I’ve really been on edge lately. I know David’s a jerk. I should’ve known you were only trying to help. And thank God you did. I really am sorry.”

  I reached for a bottle of Mrs. Butterworth’s and doused my French toast with more syrup. “No problem,” I lied. It was going to take a minute for me to warm up to her again.

  “You don’t sound so good,” she said.

  “That’s an understatement. I guess you haven’t read the paper yet. Go get the Times and take a look at the front page of the California section.”

  She put the phone down. I heard footsteps, followed by the sound of turning newspaper pages. “Oh no!” she said, picking up the telephone. “What happened?”

  “Well, let’s just say I didn’t exactly know that hearsay was A-OK during a preliminary hearing.” Every time I thought of that stunt David pulled my forehead ached.

  “I can’t believe David didn’t tell you that.”

  “Actually, he basically led me to believe that it wasn’t admissible.”

  “What?” Neddy said. “What happened?” She still didn’t see David as the asshole I knew him to be.

  “I really don’t feel like going into it now.” I stuffed a piece of French toast into my mouth. “I’ll tell you about it later. I don’t know if you know it yet, but you’re back on the Montgomery case. O’Reilly was going to take me off, but I fought the good fight and won. But the consolation prize is David stays on, too.”

  “So there’ll be three of us?”

  “Not really. Two and a half. I’m the half.”

  “Well, I’m just glad you’re still on the team,” she said. “What time are you going into the office today?”

  “I’m not. I’m taking a mental health day and treating myself to a day at the spa.”

  “You deserve it,” Neddy said.

  I cut a piece of French toast and stabbed it with my fork. “As the youngsters say, no doubt.”

  CHAPTER 44

  I could always count on Special to be up for a day of playing hooky from work. We were standing in the lobby of the Burke Williams Day Spa in Santa Monica waiting to check in.

  “You called in sick?” I chided Special. “Why didn’t you just take a vacation day? If somebody catches you here, you could lose your job.”

  “Girl, they’re charging us eighty-five dollars an hour for a massage. Ain’t nobody I work with make enough money to be up in here.”

  “Okay,” I warned her, “I’m an employment lawyer. Calling in sick when you’re not constitutes good cause for termination.”

  “Not for me,” she said. “I got so much stuff on my boss, the day I go, she’s going to have to pack up her shit, too.”

  We both laughed.

  A receptionist handed us locker keys and we walked down a long, softly lit hallway to the locker room. The scent of eucalyptus and sandalwood wrapped us in tranquility. I was long overdue for this treat. We undressed and slipped into plush blue robes and made our way to the Quiet Room.

  We took neighboring seats in a row of comfy recliners separated by purple velvet curtains. Colorful scented candles provided just enough light. Since we were the only ones in the room, we ignored the “No Talking” sign.

  “So how are you and Jefferson doing?” Special asked.

  I yawned and stretched at the same time. “Better. Much better. We’re even back to semi-regular sex. I’m just trying to figure out how to broach the subject of adoption with him.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Special was slow to respond. “Because he’s not ready yet.”

  “And how would you know that?”

  She began to sputter her words. “Uh–I–uh…because he told me.”

  I sat up in my chair and snatched back the curtain separating us. “And when did he tell you that?”

  “A few days ago. I ran into him when I was out and we chatted a bit.”

  “Ran into him where?”

  “Out.” She pulled the curtain forward, separating us again.

  I snatched it back. “Out where?”

  She stalled for a few seconds. “Friday’s,” she said finally.

  “You’re lying. Jefferson hates Friday’s. Why’re you protecting him? Where was he?” I demanded.

  “I can’t tell you,” she moaned. “I promised him I wouldn’t.”

  “I don’t care what you promised him. You’re my best friend, not his. Where the hell was he?”

  “I’ll tell you, but only if you promise me you won’t say anything to him about it. Swear?”

  I held up her hand. “I swear,” I said.

  “I’m not playing,” Special warned. “Jefferson’s my homie. I want him to know that I won’t go blabbing his business.”

  That was a joke. Special couldn’t hold water if you handed it to her in a glass. “Okay, okay. Now tell me.”

  She winced. “I ran into him at a strip club.”

  “Is that all?” I leaned back in the recliner. “Girl, I thought you were going to tell me you found him with some woman.”

  Special looked at me with a flabbergasted expression. “You’re not mad?”

  “Mad? No. Which one was it? The Barbary Coast in Gardena?”

  “Yeah,” Special said slowly, still in shock.

  “Girl, Jefferson’s been going there for years. Sometimes he comes home from that club so damn horny we have the most incredible sex. I don’t have a problem with him hanging out there.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Special said.

  “I’m not as uptight as you think, huh?” I said, looking over at her. Special’s eyes were as wide as the clock on the wall. “Jefferson has no idea that I know that’s his little hang out. One of my friends told me her husband saw him there about a year ago. Hey, wait a minute,” I said, sitting up again. “What were you doing there?”

  “Just cooling out.”

  “Since when did you start cooling out at strip clubs?”

  She looked as if she were trying to think up a quick lie, then suddenly threw up her hands. “Since I’ve been busy watching your back.”

  “Special, just how were you watching my back?”

  “You told me Jefferson was drinking too much and staying out late. That’s a deadly combination. So I decided to look after your interests and follow him. I told you I was thinking about starting my own private investigations firm. This was basically a practice run. Anyway, all he was doing was nursing a drink and kicking it. He wasn’t even trying to get a lap dance.”

  “Special, you actually went to the Barbary Coast by yourself?”

  “Yep. And you know I had to fight off quite a few brothers who had the nerve to be all upon me like I was some stripper.”

  “Special, you’re crazy,” I said. “Certifiably crazy.”

  She laughed. “Girl, I had a good time. The sisters in there ain’t got nothing on you and me. Most of them weren’t even that cute and I know I could wiggle my ass better than half of ‘em. I couldn’t believe how much money the brothers in there were kicking down. I bet some of them girls are making five, six hundred dollars a night in tips.”

  “Oh, so now you’re thinki
ng about being a stripper?”

  “Maybe. That’s some good money. It’s a helluva lot more than I make now slaving eight hours a day.”

  “Wait,” I said, still amazed at Special’s antics. “Let’s get back to Jefferson. What did you two talk about?”

  “A whole lot of stuff. Me and brother-in-law had a nice, long heart-to-heart. He’s lonely.”

  “Lonely?”

  “Yeah. And he told me all about his little problem. He figured you’d already told me anyway.” Special jumped up, grabbed an apple from a sofa table across the room, and sat back down. “Like I told you when you were working like a maniac at that other law firm, that brother’s not going to be willing to play second fiddle to your career forever. He’s just taken the kind of blow few men could handle, but he’s handling it. You need to be there for him. Let him know you need him as much as he needs you. He told me that, too.”

  “Special, I can’t just quit my job.”

  She bit into the apple and sat back down. “Ain’t there some law firm out there where you can work nine to five?”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” I said.

  “Then you’re going to end up like all these other professional black women, well-educated, loaded, and manless. Jefferson needs a woman who needs him.”

  I could feel one of Special’s lectures coming on. “I do need him,” I said.

  “When’s the last time you told him that?”

  I didn’t respond because I couldn’t remember if I had ever said those exact words to my husband. But certainly Jefferson had to know that I needed him.

  Special hopped out of her chair and stood in front of me, noisily chewing her apple. “You and Jefferson are as different as night and day, that’s why they say opposites attract. He’s totally laid back. You’re Ms. Independent. I’m not saying change who you are. He was apparently attracted to that. But plan some time in your day, or at least in your week, to make your man feel like a man.”