by Caine, Candy
Now standing next to Scott, with his arm around her and holding her close, she could envision having her own family. Then she realized she was rushing things. Even so, the thought felt nice. There seemed to be enough happiness and joy in that church to light the city.
* * *
Following the ceremony, everyone was invited back to Frank’s home in Glen Head, a sleepy suburb on Long Island’s affluent north shore, for food and drink. Louise had a nice spread of cold cuts and pastas catered in. No one ever left one of her parties hungry. She was a dieter’s nightmare.
Louise approached the non-eaters, picking them off like a sniper, making certain their plates were full. She spied Scott and Marnie talking with Frank in the corner of the room. She knew they were probably talking shop and should be admonished, but she was glad Scott seemed to be finally settling down. She, like Frank, loved him as if her were her own son and only wanted the best for him. She’d liked Marnie from the first day she met her. Now, watching him and Marnie standing together across the room, their body language revealed much to her. She smiled thinking how nice a couple they made. Glad they found each other, she hoped it would last.
Her gaze traveled to her husband. Frank was a good man and a wonderful father. With all the divorces and goings on with her friends and acquaintances, she considered herself a very lucky woman to be married to a man like Frank. Had he ever cheated on her? She didn’t know for certain—there had been those late nights and business trips, but she doubted it. Certainly their marriage had the normal highs and lows, but basically she was happy. Wasn’t that was life was about, anyway? Sharing such wonderful family gatherings such the christening tonight.
Smiling, she walked over to the threesome. “Everyone eating?”
Marnie spoke for the group. “Yes. The spread is wonderful as usual. You’ll get my alteration bill in the mail.”
“Ah, sweet music to my ear,” Louise replied. “Thank you for coming.”
“I’m so glad you invited me. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. The ceremony was beautiful. Jarrett is a very lucky little boy to be born into such a warm and loving family.”
“I’m so glad,” Louise said lightly touching her shoulder. She then gave Scott a wink and smiled. Turning to Frank, she raised an eyebrow and said, “No more shop talk.”
Frank shrugged. “Somehow she always knows.”
“That’s okay, I was about to leave, anyway. Work tomorrow,” Marnie said.
“I’ll make sure she gets home all right,” Scott said.
Marnie and Scott kissed Frank and Louise goodnight and made the rounds wishing the other guests goodnight, as well.
Scott followed Marnie home and walked her to her door. “There’s something I’ve wanted to do all night,” he said, watching her open the door.
“What’s that?” she asked.
He raised his eyebrows up and down quickly as he followed her inside. Closing the door behind him, he said, “This,” taking her into his arms and kissing her.
“Hmm, motion adopted,” she said returning his kiss.
Lips locked, they shrugged out of their coats and kissed their way into her bedroom, shedding articles of clothing along the way. They toppled onto the bed and Scott covered her body with his. “Why do I want you so?”
“Whatever it is, keep it well-fed and watered.”
His reply came in the form of a kiss as he found his way inside her. Eyes closed, Marnie moaned from a place deep in her throat. His lips grazed hers neck as they initiated their intimate dance of love.
Chapter Twenty-Five
By the time jury selection had begun on the DeMarco trial months later, the case had already been decided in the media. The more conservative papers were unsympathetic to Victor DeMarco painting him nothing less than a brutal murderer, while the more liberal rags held this case up as a litmus test calling for tort reform and more rights for the terminally ill. Again, no surprises. It was as if things were running along a special track engraved for cases of this kind.
Most law firms, including Conway, Pasternak and Freed, took juror selection seriously. They hired Justine Lee, one of the best jury profilers on the east coast. Her detailed psychological take on each of the potential jurors would help Marnie pick out those people who would most identify with the victim and be sympathetic to DeMarco.
Rick Thompson also did routine background checks on all of the prospective jurors, including their economic, social, and political situations and as much personal information as he could find to further complete the juror profiles.
Armed with this information, Marnie would carefully question each prospective juror. This process for determining which jurors were suitable to hear the case is known as voir dire, which is Latin for “to say the truth”. Both sides were allowed to question each juror to determine whether or not they could be fair and unbiased.
Two jurors had been seated by the time the court broke for lunch. Frank took Marnie to a quiet diner a few blocks from the courthouse.
After they had been seated and ordered, Frank looked directly at his protégé. “You’ve been unusually quiet. Anything on your mind?”
“This voir dire is going to take forever.”
“Nobody wants to blink. After a few more “peremptory” challenges, things should heat up a bit.”
“I hope so. I don’t want to find myself eligible for Medicare by the time we’re done.”
Frank chuckled. “Things still going well with my godson?”
Marnie felt her cheeks heat. That question had come from left field and had caught her just as unaware. “Fine.”
“I’m glad. You make a nice couple. It’s time he settled down and—”
Marnie raised her hands defensively. “Slowdown. At the rate you’re going, you’ll have us married with three kids.”
“Is there anything wrong with that?” he teased.
The waiter brought their food and gave Marnie a reprieve.
“To be continued,” Frank said and winked as they began to eat.
Things were going very well for Scott and her. The months that had gone by had brought them closer together. Both of their careers were on the rise. And if she somehow pulled off an acquittal or acceptable plea bargain for DeMarco, a partnership might be on Marnie’s horizon.
* * *
By the third day of the trial, eight jurors had been selected. Though Frank had been there with her each step of the way, he’d left the final selections to Marnie. This spoke volumes to her and made her feel more confident about her choices. Though she knew she could do a good job, there was always that tiny voice whispering in her ear questioning her, reminding her, “Don’t screw up.” She realized she’d never truly be free of her occasional nightmare of not being prepared.
As the judge’s gavel hit the black sound block on his desk signaling the end of court for the day, Marnie felt beat. It had been an extremely tedious day. Frank patted her arm. “You did good, partner.”
Instead of thanking him, she wanted to say, “The ‘partner’ part sound nice.”
“No choice is a foolproof vote for our client, but I think you made good selections today.”
“It was a long day,” Marnie said gathering her yellow pad and files together.
“Just think, tomorrow’s another one.”
Marnie gave out a short laugh as they walked out of the courtroom together.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The late news was on TV in the background as Marnie looked through cancer case studies. She was making note of the dosages of various medicines used to combat the pain caused by uterine cancer, hoping to glean something useful when hearing the name, DeMarco interrupted her reading. She looked up at the screen. The news reporter was talking, “…Fatal car crash that took the life of District Attorney Edward Chalmers earlier that evening, who was preparing to prosecute one of his most important cases to date.”
“Oh My God!” Marnie said aloud. The poor guy, she thought. Despite the last meeting she�
��d had with the smug know-it-all, when he told her that there’d be no plea bargaining and “The best he could do was see that her client was out of prison before he was 55 if he pleaded guilty,” no one deserved to die in a fiery auto crash. Then it hit her. Who was going to replace him?
Even though it was late, she grabbed the phone and keyed in Frank’s number hoping he might know. He answered the phone on the first ring. Louise stirred next to him. He got out of bed and took the phone out into the hall.
“I knew it was you,” he said, following her apology for calling so late.
“I guess knew you heard the news about Chalmers? Who’ll take over the DeMarco case?”
“They’ve got Ken Solomon. He’s a good litigator.”
“But is he flamboyant enough for this case? They’ve already built it up in the media.”
“I honestly can’t say, Marnie. We’re going to have to wait like everyone else to find out.
There’s nothing you can do now except get yourself all worked up. For what it’s worth, try and get some sleep.”
After saying good night to Frank, the little voice that had been whispering in the back of her head grew louder. Though she didn’t want to think about it, there was always the chance that Scott would replace Edward Chalmers. He was a newcomer, but an impressive one. He was rising through the office of the DA quickly. She began to imagine what would happen if he got the case. For her, it was probably the worst thing. She was in love with Scott. Whether she won the case or not, opposing him in court had the potential to ultimately destroy their relationship. Did she want to risk that? Better still, did she have any choice at this point? It always boiled down to love or career, didn’t it? Why couldn’t there be a happy marriage of both?
When Frank told her it was her case, she’d gladly accepted it, even though she had some reservations. She knew she had to work around those second thoughts, keeping her eye on the big picture. Above all, she wanted to become a partner. This was her chance to go up against the big boys and Chalmers was the biggest of them all. Though she’d never gone up against the District Attorney, she was familiar with how he conducted his cases. And this was the just the type of case she needed to win if she wanted to become a partner sooner. Unfortunately, this type of case was one of the most difficult to win.
Everyone knew her client was guilty of shooting his wife. No one was going to refute that fact. The only way for her to come out on the winning side would be to get the jury to see the crime through DeMarco’s eyes. She had to persuade the jurors that DeMarco took his wife’s life because there was no other choice.
* * *
Sleep had eluded Marnie and she dreaded going to work that morning. She found Frank in his office staring at the dregs in his coffee cup. That was not a good sign.
He looked up at her approach. “No, I don’t know. I guess it’s easier to read tea leaves. But, you look like hell.”
“And a good morning to you, too. Actually, I feel like hell. I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”
“Whoever it turns out to be doesn’t really matter, Marnie. You’re ready. Even the jury looks decent enough, so don’t worry. And stop putting the cart before the horse.”
“I wish it were that easy. I knew Chalmers and how he worked a case. The unknown is what scares me.”
“Find a way to use it to your advantage. Always look for an edge. I have confidence in you and I know you’ll do fine.”
“With you in the second chair I will.”
Frank’s smile faded and Marnie felt her throat constrict as her brain translated his expression.
“Paul Wiedner’s sick and a few of his appointments can’t be cancelled or rescheduled.”
“Today of all days, I wish you were coming with me today.”
“Me, too. You’ll be fine—regardless of whether or not I’m there.”
“What about Kantor? Is he replacing you?”
Frank shook his head. “He’s not free today, either. Sorry.”
Marnie sighed. She never expected to have to go solo that day.
“Keep me posted. And Marnie…”
“What?”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks. I’ll speak to you later.”
Marnie left, stopping into her office. Debbie greeted her with a steaming cup of coffee. “You look like you need one of these in the worst way. Did Scott take you out dancing to all hours last night?”
“Nope. Just couldn’t sleep. Besides, does Scott have to occupy my every waking hour?”
“Whoa! What’s eating you this morning?” Marnie sighed. “Sorry. It’s the DeMarco case. Someone else has to take over the case for the prosecution.”
Debbie narrowed her eyes in thought for a moment. “Okay, cutting to the chase, you’re petrified that person will be Scott, aren’t you?”
Marnie nodded. “Am I that obvious?”
“Uh-huh. Drink your coffee and listen to some advice. In the ultimate scheme of things, everything always works out for the best. So, no matter what, go out there and do your best.”
“Just like that.”
“Yup.”
“I think I’ll finish my coffee before I rush right out and win one for the home team.”
Debbie didn’t take offense. She knew Marnie well enough to know that her sarcasm only reflected how upset and worried she was over the trial and nothing more.
Marnie looked at the time and began to gather the things she’d need to take with her to court that day. She met Frank in the hall. He immediately gave her the victory signal. But nothing anyone did or said could calm her pounding heart that threatened to break right through her chest.
She found a parking spot in the lot at the courthouse and turned off the engine of her car. She sat there momentarily gripping the wheel as if trying to will the energy still left in the now cooling engine to flow through her wrists. The usual queasiness of self-doubt was fluttering in her stomach like butterflies. Taking one deep breath after another, she looked in the mirror and reminded herself why she was there. She was smart and capable. She could do this. There were people depending on her. To admit failure was to show her parents they were right. Her eyes narrowed and glared back at her in the mirror. “No way!”
Grabbing her briefcase, she got out and locked the car. As Marnie entered the building and walked through the metal detector, she had a sudden terrible urge to turn around and run. She applied the brakes to that thought process. No way could she ever do that now. It would be nothing less than career suicide. She got into the elevator and rode to the third floor. Marnie got out and headed toward the courtroom.
Breathing deeply, Marnie stared at the closed door. The little voice in her head was screeching at a feverish pitch warning her not to go inside, but she ignored it, knowing all too well that she must. She pushed open the door and as she walked toward the defense table, Marnie looked across to the prosecution’s table. A tall woman in a gray suit was standing behind the desk shuffling through papers. Marnie recognized her as one of the ADAs gossiping about Scott. Her heart jolted at the mere thought of him. Before another thought entered her head, she heard her name and turned.
“Marnie, good morning.” Her heart caught in her throat at the familiar sexy, deep baritone that pleasurably haunted her nightly dreams and heated her blood.
There was only one reason why Scott was here. Her eyes met his. She tried to read his expression, but for the first time, couldn’t.
“Let’s step outside a moment,” Scott said.
Marnie followed him out and into an empty corridor. Her heart was doing jumping jacks inside her chest as the sound of her own blood thundered in her ears. She was struggling to reign in her galloping emotions as she listened to what Scott had to say.
“When the news broke of Chalmers’ death, the entire staff was called in by Wallace Irving, the highest ranking ADA. However, because the voir dire was still in progress he didn’t want to ask for a continuance. And with his plate filled with two high-profiled cases,
he didn’t want to take on the DeMarco prosecution.”
Marnie was dying. Would he ever get to the point?
“So he gave the case to me. I’m the lead prosecutor.”
The blood rushing in her ears was so loud now she could hardly think. This was the last thing she wanted to hear—the very last thing. “Could you have turned it down?”
“Why would I? I want it. This case could make it for me in the department. You, of all people, should understand that.”
“And us? What happens to us, Scott?”
He shook his head. “What about us? My taking over the prosecution has nothing to do with our personal lives, Marnie.”
“How can it not? We’re human.”
“And humans have the greatest capacity to love,” he said, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “We’ll talk later, okay?”
Marnie nodded. She believed in love and hoped theirs would prove strong. But would it be stronger than Scott’s drive for success?
They walked back to the courtroom and Marnie watched Scott greet the other ADA, hoping that the sinking feeling she still had in the pit of her stomach would dissipate. DeMarco was now sitting in his chair at the defense table and she greeted him.
“Who’s going to prosecute me?” DeMarco looked more haggard than he had the last time they’d spoken.
“His name is Scott Langley.”
“All rise!” The bailiff’s voice rang out announcing the arrival of the judge.
Marnie patted DeMarco’s arm. Everyone in the courtroom stood up as Judge Amos Hewitt, a tall, African American wearing black-rimmed half glasses, entered the room. Sitting down in the large, padded, black, leather chair, he nodded to the bailiff. The bailiff called the court into session.
All thoughts of anything other than the trial were swept from mind as she heard Scott’s voice address the court.
“Your Honor, at this time, I wish to inform the Court that I have no problem with the jurors already selected by my predecessor.”
