The courthouse doors swing open behind us, the noise of the courtroom spilling out before the heavy wood shuts it back in.
“Get Detective Lee in my office as soon as possible,” I say, walking as fast as I can toward the parking lot.
Rachel keeps up beside me, heels clicking in quick succession.
“I already called him and he’s on his way,” my paralegal assures me.
She’s always been very capable and despite the fact that I hired her fresh out of college two years ago, she has yet to make me regret that choice. The afternoon sun is too bright, too warm for the irritation sitting just beneath my skin.
I should have seen that coming.
We get to the lot and I press the button to unlock my Lexus ES 350. My work car. The one I drive in an official capacity because it doesn’t demand attention, and I don’t need it to. It’s quiet, reliable and precise. It gets me where I need to go without turning it into a spectacle. Unlike most things in my life.
I undo the button of the black suit jacket I’ve got on, turning back to Rachel.
“Why was there no mention of possible abuse by the victim?” I ask, my brain going over every aspect of the trial.
“The angle wasn’t considered because of the severity of the violence. Three bullet wounds is a clear sign of a murder,” Rachel answers. “They also didn’t disclose anything. Not in anything we reviewed. Not in discovery, not in?—”
“I know,” I cut in sharper than intended, before letting out a soft sigh. “The defense will want to amend the charge. They’ll be gunning for manslaughter.”
Rachel’s brown eyes widen, “But it’s clearly premeditated.”
“Well, the burden of proof isn’t on them, it’s on us,” I state, pressing the file in my hand to her chest and opening the driver’s seat “I need information on every single person that worked in the victim’s company. We have to get ahead of whatever the defense is planning.”
“Right away, Ms. Beaumont.”
We both settle in the car, ready to head back to the office. I put on my seatbelt, chewing the inside of my cheek. I hate being caught off guard, especially at work. I should have seen this coming.
“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Rachel says, always a positive voice of reason.
I shoot her a small smile. “Of course it will be. We just have a couple late nights on the horizon for us. Let’s go. We can grab coffee on the way.”
Silence settles for a moment as I start the car and drive, the hum of the road filling the air. By the time we pull into the office, the irritation has settled into something sharper. Cleaner.
Useful.
Inside the office building, the air is cooler and quieter. We barely make it past reception before someone calls my name.
“Ms. Beaumont.”
I turn. It’s one of the assistants from upstairs.
“The DA wants to see you.”
I resist rolling my eyes. Of course he does.
Rachel glances at me. “That was fast.”
“Oh, you know our dear district attorney. Always on top of the mistakes I make,” I say, my tone light despite the frown on my face.
She winces slightly.
“Get to work, Rachel. I’ll be there in a sec.”
She nods once and I turn, heading for the elevator.
The doors slide open on the DA’s floor, and I step out without hesitation. His office door is already open. I step inside and he doesn’t waste any time before laying into me.
