Read Online Evidence of Guilt by Jonnie Jacobs - Free Book Online
Authors: Jonnie Jacobs
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Legal Stories, Mystery Fiction, San Francisco (Calif.), Women lawyers, O'Brien; Kali (Fictitious Character)
Ads: Link
like that. She's there most Friday nights."
"Your friends say you were in a foul mood all evening. Was Doreen the cause of it?"
"I told you, the thing with her was nothing. It was just one of those days, you know?" His voice dropped and grew thick with sarcasm. "Or maybe you don't. Maybe for you everything goes the way it's supposed to, like clockwork."
Oh boy, did he have that wrong.
Wes watched me, his gaze unwavering.
"How did you know Lisa Cornell?" I asked.
The muscle in his jaw twitched. "I didn't."
"You sure?"
"I said I didn't."
"Then how do you suppose your rabbit's foot got in her little girl's pocket?"
"How the hell should I know?"
"Take a guess."
Wes shrugged. "I lost it a couple of days earlier. Maybe the kid found it."
"A guy you work with says he saw you with it on Thursday."
"So maybe it was only one day earlier that I lost it. Or maybe the one the police found isn't mine."
"And the dirt on your motorcycle?"
"Dirt's dirt. The stuff at the Cornell place isn't mono-grammed, is it?"
"Dirt's not all the same. Besides, we're talking about more than dirt here. There's vegetation, road oil, that sort of thing."
Another shrug. "I ride through those hills all the time. It must be a coincidence."
'There's an awful lot of coincidence about this."
"You got a better explanation?"
I rolled the pen in my hands, exasperated. The room was hot and stuffy, layered with the odors of unwashed bodies and disinfectant. I wondered if the holding cells were as bad.
Suddenly Wes rocked forward. The skin around his eyes and mouth was tight. "You don't believe me, do you? You think I killed Lisa Cornell and her kid."
"What I think isn't the issue."
His laugh was bitter. "Right, you've got to defend me either way."
"I don't got to do anything."
"You get paid either way too. Buy yourself a fancy new car, go out to dinner. Maybe when this is all over you'll take a little breather at some resort in the south of France. Win or lose, it's all in a day's work to you."
"To a certain extent that's true," I said, with growing irritation. "But I work hard. And win or lose, I'll have earned my fee."
'That's reassuring."
"And I'll have done my best for you."
This time the laugh was more of a snort. "Right, I forgot. You're one of those super-achiever types. Wouldn't dream of doing less than your personal best. I know you
went to a big-name college, and I bet you went to some equally big-name law school. Me, I'm such a fuck-up. It's a good thing I've got you on my team."
I swallowed my anger, which I realized was really more frustration than genuine outrage. And it was directed as much at myself as at Wes. Why had I let him get under my skin?
"Believe it or not," I said carefully, "lawyers are more effective when they don't take a personal interest in their cases. I'm a good lawyer and I'm going to do the best job I can for you. So will Sam. But it will be much easier, and much more effective, if you cooperate instead of fighting us at every step."
Wes's expression was one of clamped-down anger. He looked at me and said nothing.
"Okay," I began again, recapping, "let's see what we've got. Someone killed Lisa Cornell and her daughter. It wasn't you. Unfortunately, you have no alibi and the police happen to have quite a bit of evidence against you."
"Truth is often stranger than fiction."
"We're going to have a hard time selling that to the jury."
His expression was derisive. "The courtroom angle's a bitch, isn't it?" He turned so that he was no longer facing me.
"You know, there's a chance you might be able to plead to a lesser offense. You were drinking that night, and angry about something. Maybe you took a ride through the hills on your way home, got lost or sidetracked and wound up at Lisa Cornell's place. She might have startled you or maybe threatened to call the police, and you panicked. We could make a case for something less than murder one."
Wes slammed his fist against the table and flew to his
feet.
"Your friends say you were in a foul mood all evening. Was Doreen the cause of it?"
"I told you, the thing with her was nothing. It was just one of those days, you know?" His voice dropped and grew thick with sarcasm. "Or maybe you don't. Maybe for you everything goes the way it's supposed to, like clockwork."
Oh boy, did he have that wrong.
Wes watched me, his gaze unwavering.
"How did you know Lisa Cornell?" I asked.
The muscle in his jaw twitched. "I didn't."
"You sure?"
"I said I didn't."
"Then how do you suppose your rabbit's foot got in her little girl's pocket?"
"How the hell should I know?"
"Take a guess."
Wes shrugged. "I lost it a couple of days earlier. Maybe the kid found it."
"A guy you work with says he saw you with it on Thursday."
"So maybe it was only one day earlier that I lost it. Or maybe the one the police found isn't mine."
"And the dirt on your motorcycle?"
"Dirt's dirt. The stuff at the Cornell place isn't mono-grammed, is it?"
"Dirt's not all the same. Besides, we're talking about more than dirt here. There's vegetation, road oil, that sort of thing."
Another shrug. "I ride through those hills all the time. It must be a coincidence."
'There's an awful lot of coincidence about this."
"You got a better explanation?"
I rolled the pen in my hands, exasperated. The room was hot and stuffy, layered with the odors of unwashed bodies and disinfectant. I wondered if the holding cells were as bad.
Suddenly Wes rocked forward. The skin around his eyes and mouth was tight. "You don't believe me, do you? You think I killed Lisa Cornell and her kid."
"What I think isn't the issue."
His laugh was bitter. "Right, you've got to defend me either way."
"I don't got to do anything."
"You get paid either way too. Buy yourself a fancy new car, go out to dinner. Maybe when this is all over you'll take a little breather at some resort in the south of France. Win or lose, it's all in a day's work to you."
"To a certain extent that's true," I said, with growing irritation. "But I work hard. And win or lose, I'll have earned my fee."
'That's reassuring."
"And I'll have done my best for you."
This time the laugh was more of a snort. "Right, I forgot. You're one of those super-achiever types. Wouldn't dream of doing less than your personal best. I know you
went to a big-name college, and I bet you went to some equally big-name law school. Me, I'm such a fuck-up. It's a good thing I've got you on my team."
I swallowed my anger, which I realized was really more frustration than genuine outrage. And it was directed as much at myself as at Wes. Why had I let him get under my skin?
"Believe it or not," I said carefully, "lawyers are more effective when they don't take a personal interest in their cases. I'm a good lawyer and I'm going to do the best job I can for you. So will Sam. But it will be much easier, and much more effective, if you cooperate instead of fighting us at every step."
Wes's expression was one of clamped-down anger. He looked at me and said nothing.
"Okay," I began again, recapping, "let's see what we've got. Someone killed Lisa Cornell and her daughter. It wasn't you. Unfortunately, you have no alibi and the police happen to have quite a bit of evidence against you."
"Truth is often stranger than fiction."
"We're going to have a hard time selling that to the jury."
His expression was derisive. "The courtroom angle's a bitch, isn't it?" He turned so that he was no longer facing me.
"You know, there's a chance you might be able to plead to a lesser offense. You were drinking that night, and angry about something. Maybe you took a ride through the hills on your way home, got lost or sidetracked and wound up at Lisa Cornell's place. She might have startled you or maybe threatened to call the police, and you panicked. We could make a case for something less than murder one."
Wes slammed his fist against the table and flew to his
feet.
Similar Books
