“Well, for once, you’re not drinking with breakfast. I’m surprised you didn’t get a mimosa.”
“I didn’t know we could have mimosas.” Emmie looked around.
Sadie came over with a bottle and splashed a generous amount into her glass. It had a strong chemical smell.
“Wait. I thought that was window cleaner,” I said slowly.
Sadie blinked.
Emmie took a sip of her orange juice mixed with kerosene.
“That’s what we sell it as to avoid the alcohol tax, but everyone who’s in the know knows.” Emmie tapped her head.
A few tables away, a senior citizen was using the moonshine to light up one of those spinning candle decorations.
“How the fuck am I here for a month?” I asked myself.
The smell of the alcoholic orange juice wafted over to me.
Revolting.
“So, my case. This suspect was in my shop.”
“Yes, we need to talk about the case,” I interrupted her smoothly.
“We are…”
“No. One, you need to stay away from the crime scene, full stop.”
“But—”
“Two, as your lawyer, I highly recommend you hire a different lawyer.”
“But last night, you said…” The tears started, then she seemed to fight them back.
So she had a backbone after all.
“This is going to be a long case for you,” I explained. “These criminal cases drag on for years. I’m going back to New York City after Christmas. You need someone local.”
“No, I need you as my lawyer. And we’re going to solve the case before Christmas. I can’t have being a murder suspect hanging over my head for the holidays. That will ruin Christmas,” Emmie said determinedly.
“If wishful thinking got innocent pleas, no one would be in jail,” I said flatly.
“But you got me out of prison. You’re a miracle worker.”
“For now,” I repeated. “When Theo”—I bit back the curse I usually added to his name—“has had enough drinks with the DA, he’s going to have a judge sign a warrant for your arrest. Guaranteed.”
“Yeah, but—”
“They’re going to send it out to the county, and they’re going to pin it on you. It’s an election year. The mayor is going to want this case wrapped up. You’re the prime suspect in this. You need someone who knows the judges and can get you a good plea deal.”
“I’m innocent!” she cried.
“Up to a jury to decide.”
“There aren’t any other lawyers. The other lawyer in town is Brooks’s friend Theo. He’sawful.” She spat out the word.
I immediately tensed and fought down the possessive urge to grab her and demand she tell me what he’d done to her.
