Poor guy. His face was red, there was sweat on his brow, his hands were wringing together as if he was trying to get water out of a towel. Maybe she was feeling the same way, but she’d never confess that to a client.
Nope. She had to be the cool, levelheaded one. That’s what she was paid for.
“And it’d be on your record. Is that what you want? Especially for something youdidn’tdo?”
Did clients lie to her? Yep, they did. All the time. Sometimes she didn’t care if they were lying as long as it didn’t hinder what she could do for them.
But she’d like to think she was good at sussing out fact and fiction. Dave Mason was only guilty of being on the trail and rescuing his cat.
“No,” Dave said, shaking his head. “But if they find me guilty, I’ll have to go to jail.”
She sighed. He wasn’t wrong, but her gut told her things were leaning their way.
Her hand reached towards his, lay on top of it, and gave him a tiny reassuring squeeze. “We’ll appeal if it gets to that.”
As much as she wanted to tell him not to worry, she couldn’t. She didn’t know how the jury would vote and never did.
There was a knock at the door, and she turned when it opened. “They are ready to start soon.”
She nodded at the clerk, pushed the chair back and stood. “Let’s go do this.” She reached for the tissues on the counter. It’d be a nice touch if his eyes were damp, but he’d want to walk out there without that. “Remember what I told you. Make eye contact and be you.”
She’d never tell her clients to act some way they weren’t... unless they were cocky and it’d blow her case. Then she’d ride their ass to get their shit together or expect the worst.
The last of the testimony was done an hour later, and the prosecution got up and gave their closing argument. Not very long either. Interesting. They did little more than point out the facts that Dave was there at the time of the assault, seen by many witnesses, fit the description, and picked out of the lineup by the accused.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. What is the first thing we’re taught about justice? That every one of us is innocent until proven guilty. Correct?” Several heads nodded. “That’s right. So let me tell you exactly what Dave Mason is guilty of. He’s guilty of having a mischievous cat who loves to escape out of second-story windows. He’s guilty of caring enough about that cat to chase him down at any hour of the day or night. Now, does that sound like the behavior of a man lying in wait to assault a stranger on her morning run?” She paused, letting the words settle. “That morning, Dave Mason was on the trail wearing mismatched sneakers, Christmas-themed pajama pants, and an old black T-shirt, not a hoodie. Sounds like a criminal mastermind, doesn’t it?” A few jurors smirked. “He is guilty of being on the trail at the same time Sheryl Hinders was attacked. But Sheryl described her attacker as taller than she is. She’s five-eight. Dave Mason is five-six. She testified that her attacker had to bend down to whisper in her ear to be quiet. Dave Mason didn’t. He couldn’tbenddown since he’s shorter than her. Sheryl fought back, kicking and clawing at her attacker. And yet, the only marks on Dave Mason’s body were four scratches in the form of a paw from his cat, who clearly didn’t appreciate his morning adventures being cut short. The prosecution has not given you proof of guilt. What theyhavedone—ironically—is give you proof of innocence. From the height difference tothe clothing, to the complete lack of injuries consistent with her description.” She went on for another minute, then said, “The prosecution hasn’t given evidence to convict, they’ve given evidence to clear him.”
She took her seat next to Dave, his eyes glassy just like she’d thought they’d be.
“That was great,” Dave said.
She patted his hand. “And now we wait.”
She just hoped it wasn’t too long.
When they were dismissed for the jury to deliberate, she stood and turned only to see Rory seated in the gallery. She hadn’t noticed he was there. Hadn’t bothered to look at the people in the room other than the judge and the jury.
She’d been waiting for Rory to reach out to her.
A dozen donuts and some conversation got her his full name on the form from Barb. Easy enough when leading Barb to give some gossip since she’d asked for the favor. Her mother’s old friend wouldn’t know Rory was a stranger to her.
With the knowledge of his name, she’d spent last night looking him up.
Five bestsellers in the past three years. Several books prior that did decent but not as well as the ones from a major publishing house.
The more she went down the rabbit hole of the internet, the more she was positive that Rory Rene was actually Rory Connors, Rene Connors’s older brother.
The boy who was supposed to be watching out for his sister when she disappeared.
He’d been questioned as if he were guilty. The same with the parents. She knew how it went and felt for the families that went through it.
But it was the process of eliminating suspects as quickly as possible.
The kid had no alibi other than a text saying Rene was returning and then never did. A search of his cell phone back then proved he’d been chatting with multiple friends at the time his sister was murdered.
Funny, joking banter between teenage boys that was a mixture of sports, girls, and horrible jokes. Nothing that would indicate he’d spent minutes stalking his sister and murdering her, then throwing her on the side of the road and pretending she was in her room the whole time.
Nor would he have the strength to pull off that brutal of a crime.
