The judge and prosecuting attorney land on a preliminary trial date, three weeks from today.
Rosalie nods. “That’s acceptable, although I’m giving the court notice that Mr. Sokolov is going to appeal the court’s ruling denying the motion for an overturned conviction with prejudice. I doubt I’ll be heard by the trial date.”
The judge sighs. “Let’s leave this on the docket for now and file a motion for a continuance when you have more information.”
“Of course.” Rosalie smiles.
The prosecuting attorney glares at her, at me, and then turns and bustles out of the courtroom.
“That was fun,” I whisper to Rosalie.
“Behave yourself,” she whispers back. “We’re not done yet. I like that we’re getting all of my hearings done in one morning. If anything, the judge is efficient.”
I glance to my side as Lillian, dressed in a loose-fitting long skirt, walks inside next to Samuel La Vinci, who’s been her attorney for as long as I can remember. Apparently, her days of wearing tight dresses are over. She looks at me evenly, glances at Rosalie, and then takes her seat. The woman seems smaller than I remember.
“All right,” the judge says, shoving folders to the side before grabbing another one, this one gray, unlike the other blue ones. Must be an easy way to differentiate between criminal and civil matters. “Let’s take out the civil motion to unfreeze the funds of Alexei Sokolov.”
“Thank you, Judge.” Samuel stands, his voice firm and strong. The guy’s around fifty and there’s heated warmth when he glances at Lillian. So they’re more than business acquaintances? Not that I care. He gives a pretty decent argument about my days as a playboy and how I wasted money, and he adds the fact that I’ll be tried for first degree murder again, so the money should be preserved.
Rosalie makes a couple of objections, and the judge mostly rules against her. I lose interest in the byplay until Rosalie stands up and starts to speak.
“I find it unnecessary to address the fact of whether or not Mr. Sokolov wasted money, considering it washismoney.” She looks down at the documents. “Your Honor, as it stands right now, my client has been charged with a crime. He has not been convicted, and there’s a good chance he’ll never be tried again once I appeal your earlier ruling.”
I hide a smile. It’s enjoyable watching her poke the judge. Though I really do need money. Sooner rather than later.
“Therefore, there’s no legal reason for Mr. Sokolov to be cut off from his own money.” Rosalie then launches into a series of legal terms that bore me, so I start to plan the rest of my day in my head. Finally, she sits, her scent of vanilla wafting toward me.
My cock wakes up, wanting another taste of last night.
The judge ruffles through several file folders and a couple of books before looking up, her eyes sparking again. Man, she really doesn’t like me. It’s rare. Most women do. She’s probably read the trial transcripts. Truth be told, I look guilty, but many people had conspired to make that happen.
The judge once again looks like she is chewing on lemons. “I agree with Mrs. Sokolov that irreparable harm might come to the funds if the court allows them to be wasted. However, Mr. Sokolov makes a good point that the funds are his to waste. Thus I grant the motion.”
Relief relaxes my spine.
The judge grabs her gavel and slams it on the counter. “The court’s adjourned.” Standing, she slips out of the courtroom without looking at any of us.
Rosalie turns. “Apparently, you’re loaded again.”
Lillian and her attorney disappear down the corridor, and he has an arm over her shoulders in a protective stance.
We follow slowly into the hallway, and I make plans to head to the bank immediately after we leave the courthouse.
A uniformed officer breaks off from a group whispering quietly, a box in his hands. He winks at Rosie. “Hey, Rosalie. I brought you copies of the evidence from the Sokolov case, although your firm should already have it all.”
I find I want to smash it in his face.
She reaches for the box, and I take it before she can, noting it’s fairly heavy. “Thank you for bringing this over, Saul. I planned to drop by the station later today.”
He sniffs and doesn’t notice the slight jerking of her head. “No problem.” He glances at me. “I hope you’re free for lunch.”
The whispering gains volume from the group.
She nods her chin toward the uniforms. “What’s going on?”
He leans in too close to her. “There’s a gang war. The head of Twenty-One Purple was gutted last night.”
“Oh,” Rosalie says. “Are the streets going to become unsafe again?”
