“I don’t recall,” the officer bit out.
“Here, your honor, the defense would like to submit this piece of information that was withheld in discovery.” Amanda marched to her desk, took a folder, and brought it to the clerk.
In the pause that followed, where the prosecutor was given a copy, Amanda seemed to hold her breath.
“The court admits this new evidence. Document it,” the judge agreed.
I leaned forward, wishing like hell I could see the words on that page.
“What you will see, ladies and gentlemen,” Amanda said, turning to the jurors, relief easing the lines from her forehead, “was that my client not only didn’t threaten the would-be victim, he was the one who called the police.”
A rapid burst of murmurs spread through the courtroom.
I fought to keep my features neutral. Any flicker of surprise would betray her.
I sure as fuck didn’t make the call. But if Amanda had papers that showed I did, that a call was made from my phone to the police station, then it must have happened.
Taking a second in the chaos, I scanned the crowd. I didn’t see the invisible threat, but it was there. I felt it. And it knew as well as I did that no call originated from my phone, even if there were records saying it did.
“Order!” the judge shouted.
Amanda seized the moment to launch the attack. She spun and pinned the officer with a hard look. The sweetness was gone from her beautiful face. In its place was the agent of wrath.
“Officer Guterner, did you find anything showing he planned, intended, or even expected violence that night?”
The officer shook his head.
“Answer,” the judge barked.
“No, your honor. The report is complete.”
Amanda didn’t waste a second dealing the next blow. “So, the only thing linking my client to this alleged attempted murder…is that he showed up at a place someone else told him to go?”
“Yes,” the officer forced through his teeth.
“No weapon. No motive. No violent behavior. No evidence of preparation. Just his presence.” Amanda held up a finger with each count on it.
“Correct.”
“Officer, based on everything you’ve testified today — do you have any evidence that my client intended to kill anyone that night?”
The court held a collective breath.
The officer sent one more look into the sea of faces before he bowed his head. “No.”
“I have no further questions, your honor,” Amanda said over the buzz of the court.
The judge banged his gavel.
Amanda returned to her desk and sifted through the papers again. Her whole body vibrated with energy. The papers shivered under her touch.
“Well? Call your next witness,” the judge demanded.
The prosecutor rose. Cleared his throat. “The intended victim left the country this morning, your honor.”
Maksim Varga was…gone.
Unease slithered through me. This wasn’t over, then.
