I grab the back of Thomas's jacket to slow him down. Might as well use this impromptu press conference to cast a shadow over the DA and this case. "As far as I know, there were no other suspects questioned."
"Why do you think that is?" Blondie asks.
"I don't know, but it appears the DA's office is picking the easiest candidate for prosecution and has foregone an actual investigation in lieu of sensationalism."
"For what purpose?" Some other reporter asks. I don't recognize him at all.
I shrug. "The DA is up for re-election this year…"
Pandemonium breaks out, and reporters are once again yelling at me. Why they think this is a good strategy, I will never understand. There is zero percent that the person they want to answer their question—or any question—can comprehend what is being asked.
Thomas opens the rear door to the SUV, and places his arm behind me as a barrier. I pause before climbing inside, and turn back to the reporters. "Here's what is truly disturbing—the DA's theory is that Mr. Wells was killed at an unknown location and then moved to the estate. Now, I ask you, who would do that? Why bring the body to a place that is guaranteed to put suspicion on you? It just doesn't make any sense—to a rational, reasonable person."
I slide onto the seat and ignore any of the questions being screamed at me. I made my statement, and that's all they get from me. Thomas closes the door, slides behind the driving wheel, and pulls away from the blood thirsty press. The streets are already lined with news trucks. Not just the local TV stations, but all the big shots—CNN, Fox, ABC.
If they're already camped out here, they're probably at the house, as well. Thank God we have a twenty acre estate that has a state of the art security system, and high fences. Once we pull through the gates, the world disappears.
Twenty-Four
I pull a new legal pad from my desk drawer in the library. I've already filled two with notes, things I need to do, and items I need Jake to check out. I love preparing a defense. Being a criminal defense attorney is so much a part of me, I wonder if I wasn't born to do this. Some mutated gene that predisposes me for criminal defense work.
This case is so different than any I have worked on. Yes, I've had murder trials before, even won a first degree murder trial last year. The case takes on a entirely new level of importance because Alex is the defendant. I can't lose this case.
Period.
Acquittal is the only option. The defense has to be flawless. Every piece of evidence gone over with a fine toothed comb, every option considered. Every witness questioned. No mistakes. I have to be perfect.
The sound of a television drifts into the library. I wander across the hall to Alex's study. He's sitting on the couch staring at one of the giant flat screens on his wall.
"I thought you were sleeping?" I ask, and slide next to him. He lifts his arms so I can curl up against his chest, and rest my head on his shoulder.
"I was," he says, "but my bed mate left. You know I can't sleep without you there next to me."
I gaze into his face. He looks more than tired, he looks as if he's aged a couple of years in a day. I'm worried the frown lines around his mouth will become permanent if this case goes on much longer. "I'm sorry, babe. Too many things going on inside my head. Thought I'd get a jump on things."
My voice fills the space. I glance at the TV and watch a replay of my exodus from the courthouse earlier in the day.
Alex kisses the side of my head. "You stole the show, baby."
I chuckle and shake my head. Alex knows my disdain for the press and their unofficial role in the judicial process.
A man's voice catches my attention. Matt is standing in front of the podium in the press room at the District Attorney's office. "We feel we have a very strong circumstantial case against Mr. Stone. We're awaiting the results of the forensics tests and are optimistic that they will further support the charges."
"And what of Ms. Stone's allegations against your office?"
Matt snickers. "Well, he's her husband. What do you expect her to say?"
I sigh, and shake my head. "What a bastard." I know the games that are played between the DA and defense attorneys, but when it's my husband being charged, I'm less amused by them. "Where's Jake? We should probably start talking strategy and get a plan of attack underway in the event I’m unable to convince the judge to dismiss the case."
Alex stands. "I'll get him." Leaning over he kisses me. "Although, I have complete confidence in you, and know you will be successful getting this thrown out."
A lump forms in my throat and drops into my gut like a lead ball. Alex's confidence is usually an adrenaline shot for me. Sweat slides down my back, and my anxiety shifts into high gear. My sight falls onto the crystal decanter of scotch on the mini bar.
God, I could use a drink.
I shake that thought from my head. No alcohol right now. I need my head clear. But later tonight—I'm tossing back some of Alex's fifty year old MacCallan.
Jake and Alex return. Alex hands me a cup of coffee. The man knows me too well. I take a long sip, and wait for the jolt of energy when the caffeine hits my system. We move to the desk to work.
"Okay, so I jotted some things down that we need to focus on," I say, and look at Jake sitting in the chair next to me. "If you think of anything I've missed, let me know."
Alex peers at us from across the desk, and quirks an eyebrow. As much as he wants to be involved in the investigation side of this case, he can't. And he will fight me on my involvement. We've been through this before. I can't risk further implicating him in anyway.
I look down at my legal pad resting on my lap, and ignore the heat from his laser vision. "We need to get a timeline of James's movements since he left Colorado. Maybe someone is helping him—was helping him."
Jake snorts. "Helped him right into the grave. With friends like that…"
"Maybe someone from his time in prison had a vendetta against him," Alex says.
I nod. "Good idea. He was there for a long time. With his winning personality, and the fact that he killed his wife in front of his kid—I'm sure he was not well-liked and made some enemies."
"It'd have to be pretty substantial to want him dead and actually go through with the murder, though?" Jake says while taking notes. "Plus, they would have to know about James' hate for Alex in order to know to frame him."
"The re-trial was all over the news last year. I think it was pretty clear that there was no love lost between Alex and James," I point out. James appealed his conviction and was retried for the murder of his wife, Alex’s mother. I took a leave of absence from the law firm in order to assist the DA win another conviction. While James was found guilty again, he was sentenced to the State Hospital where he escaped.
"Being able to get information about the estate, and casing it would be tricky, though. They'd have to know that the best way onto the property was through the boathouse. It's not always easy to determine which properties are which when coming from the water. It looks different from that angle." Alex rests his forearms on his desk. The muscles in his shoulders relax. Being able to contribute to the conversation seems to be helping.
"It'd be nice if we could find out where James was staying while he was here," Jake says.
"Even better if we could find where he actually died," I add.
They both nod and grunt in agreement.
* * *
I walk into my library, drop into my chair and start flipping through my notes. Did I miss anything? What am I not seeing? This is a whole new realm for me, I'm usually pretty confident in my abilities to see the big picture, and set a course for my preliminary defense. But this case is taking me full speed ahead on a loop-de-loop rollercoaster, and I can't seem to get my safety belt tight enough.
My cell phone buzzes, skittering across the desk. I glance at the screen and answer it. "Hey, Ry."
"Hey, darlin', we just saw on the news that James is dead, and Alex has been arrested for his murder. Please te
ll me that isn't true." His words come out in one long breath.
"Believe it or not..."
"Do you think it will actually go to trial? Can you get the charges dropped?"
"I'm filing a motion to dismiss, but I'm not optimistic that I'll be successful." Stress burns like fuel in my stomach. "I'm pretty sure this will go to trial."
"Geez," Ryan draws out. "How's Alex?"
"Stoic, but I can see the tension building."
"He needs to trust you. If anyone can get him out of this mess, it's you."
The fireball in my stomach is now being shot around like a pinball. "He has complete confidence in me."
"But?" Sometimes I forget that Ryan is not only a psychiatrist and an astute observer, but one of my closest and dearest friends. Of course he can tell there is something more going on.
"I'm so nervous I'm going to fuck this up. I know he trusts me, but I feel like Jack should be handling his case."
"Darlin', do you really think you could sit back and let another attorney—even Jack—handle this case?"
"No…but it doesn't mean it still isn't the right thing to do, Ryan. What if I miss something that makes the difference between acquittal and life in prison?"
"You have this responsibility every time you go to trial. This is the same thing."
"No, it's not."
"Because it's Alex."
"I have visions of him in prison that nearly cause me to vomit. What if I fall flat, Ryan? How will I live with myself knowing I failed him when he needs me most? How will I live without him?"
Tears drip from my jaw onto my lap. When did I start crying?
"This is all normal, believe it or not. But you cannot let what might happen constrain you to the point that your fears become a prophecy. You are a brilliant defense attorney, mentored by the best attorney on this side of the country, and you have excellent motivation. You know what you're doing. So, go do what we all know you can."
"How did I get lucky enough to have you in my life?"
"I don't know, but you have me for life."
I wipe the tears from my face and blow my nose in a very unladylike manner. "Okay, on to more important things. How is my little namesake doing?"
"Growing like a weed. I swear for a child that is not blood related to Paul, he takes after his daddy in the bottomless pit department."
We talk for a while about the joys of parenting and I am once again relieved that I will never be in that situation. I'm quite content to be the favorite aunt that spoils her nieces and nephews rotten and then sends them home on a sugar high.
"You have got to send me a video of Paul singing to Kyle. It just figures he would pick some wholly inappropriate song," I say, and wipe tears from my eyes, this time from laughing.
"Apparently, Kyle is into S&M, although Paul sounds nothing like Rhianna."
"Thanks for making me laugh. I needed that."
"Anytime, darlin'. Do you need us to come down there? We can pack up and be there by tomorrow afternoon."
"No, let's hold off for right now. I'll need you here if we go to trial."
Ryan accepts that and we wrap up the phone call with a chorus of "I love you's". The brief reprieve from the horror story that is my life at the moment was a necessary jolt back to reality. Alex needs me to be the best damn criminal defense attorney. And I need him forever.
Time to stop feeling sorry for myself, and get my ass to work preparing his defense.
Twenty-Five
Pulling into the small parking lot next to my new office building sends a spark of excitement through me. My own office. Sole Practitioner. I never knew I wanted this until it was a possibility. Now, I can't believe it's mine.
Sarah is already at her desk when I hit the landing and walk through the small reception area. The firm was able to find a replacement for her, moving one of the receptionists from another floor, and allowing Sarah to start work here right away. In her usual efficiency, she called the office supply retailer and was able to get them to deliver all the furniture early. I suspect the large purchase of paper, pens, and other supplies was an incentive, as well.
"Coffee's on, and I brought some croissants from the bakery two doors down," Sarah says. "That place is dangerously close to us. I'm going to have to limit my visits there, or increase my workouts."
I chuckle and head into the break room. Sarah is mid-twenty, fit, and has a great personality. Her blonde hair, perfect make-up, and professionally manicured nails mask the extremely smart woman beneath. I'm lucky to have her on my small team.
Pouring my large cup of coffee, I examine the box of evil deliciousness. "Oh, God, is this a chocolate croissant?" My achilles heel. Probably should make a mental note to add a bit more time to my workout, as well.
"Yes, and it's every bit as scrumptious as it looks."
Of course.
I grab a napkin, and carry the croissant and my coffee into my office. When I got the corner office at R&D, I had enjoyed how much it fucked with the other attorneys who didn't think I deserved to be there. But it was not a happy occasion. It was a "I'll show you I belong" middle finger at them.
Entering my new office in my own firm makes me want to jump up and down and squeal in delight. If Sarah wasn't here, I probably would. Instead, I slide my coffee and pastry onto my brand new mahogany-veneered desk, and swivel in my desk chair so I can stare out the window down to the bay.
"Just set them down here," Sarah says. I turn to look out of my office, and see a man delivering two flower arrangements. Sarah looks at the cards on both, plucks the envelope from the smaller of the two, and reads it. A wide grin slides across her face, and stays there while she brings the larger arrangement into my office. "Your husband is such a charmer."
"Yes, he is."
Alex. Of course he sent flowers on my first official day at the new office. And I'm not surprised that he would include Sarah on the welcome. Most thoughtful husband in the world.
"Starting to feel like old times, "Sarah says as Jake crosses to her desk. "Hey, Jake."
"Sarah," Jake answers, his voice professional. "I heard you had moved over here. I'm sure you'll be a great asset to Kylie." So very different from Alex's engaging personality.
"Thanks. How's Lisa?"
"Uh, good," Jake answers, and even from across the office I can see the ticking in his tightly corded neck.
Oh, Sarah. You are cruel to play with him this way.
"Well, if anything ever happens, and you're back on the market, give me a call." She turns away from him and stands at the door. "Mrs. Stone, Jake is here to see you. Shall I send him back?" The cheshire cat has nothing on Sarah.
"Not fair, he's not on your level," I murmur.
She winks and smiles. "That's what makes it so fun."
"Stop playing with your food, Sarah." I chuckle. "Jake, come on back."
At least there will never be a dull moment around here.
Jake takes the chair across from me, and looks around. "Impressive—doesn't look like the same place. Well done."
"Thanks, I'm pretty pleased." I take a deep breath. "Do you have some information for me?"
He nods. "I talked to some of my contacts at the state prison. No one pops as having any issue with Wells while he was incarcerated." He consults his notes. "According to the guards, he kept to himself as much as possible. Landed a job in the prison library. When he wasn't working, he was doing legal research. He spent a lot of time keeping tabs on his family online. Most of the searches involved Alex, until last year, when you became his new favorite to stalk."
I should have known it wouldn't be that easy to wrap this up. Finding someone in prison who wanted to harm or kill James would have taken some of the air out of the prosecution's case. A convict is more likely to re-offend, and possibly escalate their crimes, than a man who has no criminal record. "Maybe we're attacking this backwards. What if the person is someone James got along with? They worked out a scheme to get money from Alex, and James got the added bene
fit of getting some payback. The co-conspirator may have gotten greedy, killed the kidnappers in Colorado. He discovers there's no ransom, gets upset at James and kills him. James would have filled him in on his hatred for Alex, so he frames Alex for James' murder."
Jake is quiet for a moment, takes a deep breath, and nods. "Possibly. I'll go back to my contacts and ask if Wells was close to anyone who has been released recently." He stands, and puts his notepad in his jacket pocket. He still uses the same type of notepad he used while on the police force. I guess some habits die hard. "I'll let you know if I find out anything."
I nod, and watch him leave.
"Bye, Jake," Sarah calls as Jake descends the stairs.
Jake doesn't answer.
"Sarah, get ahold of the DA and have them make copies of everything they have on Alex's case."
She stands and walks to my door, and writes on a stenographer pad.
"I want to set up the conference room to use as a war room. When we start getting stuff from Matt, let's get it organized in there, so we keep everything in one place."
"You got it, boss," Sarah says, and heads back to her desk.
The copier was getting a hell of a christening. Matt had his secretary email most of the documents he had, which meant Sarah had to print everything out. I'm going to have to have to go to Alex's office to print those. He has a printer that can print out photos in any size I want. Plus, I don't want his secretary, Amy, to have to look at the gruesome scene.
Matt confirms in an email that I have all the photos. I grab my purse and briefcase, load up my laptop and head out the door. "I have my phone on me," I say to Sarah as I pass by her. "Call if anything comes up."
"Yep. Will do."
As I walk across the parking lot to my Porsche, I notice my back tire is flat. Damn. Normally, I wouldn't mind changing a tire, but I'm in a suit and heels today. I pull out my cell phone and call Jake. "Hey, where are you?"
"Stone Holdings."
Vindication: Of Demons & Stones: Tri-Stone Trilogy, Book Three Page 15
