Read Online Evidence of Guilt by Jonnie Jacobs - Free Book Online Page A
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)
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"Jesus, don't you listen? I didn't do it." He banged on the door for the guard. "Enough of this crap. I'm out of here."
'Think about it," I told him.
"Hey, guard!" He beat on the door with his open palms.
"Please, Wes. At least think about your defense." My voice had an urgency that surprised me.
It must have surprised Wes too. He turned to look at me.
"Sam and I know the law," I told him. "But you're the one who knows where you were that night, what you did or didn't do. It would help the case if we had a coherent scenario that would explain away the evidence against you." I paused. "And we certainly don't want to be surprised in court."
The guard opened the door and nodded in my direction, ignoring Wes as though he were invisible. 'You finished here?"
I nodded. "I guess so."
The guard thrust Wes against the wall face first, then reached into his pocket for the handcuffs. I turned away, embarrassed to watch.
"Remember Mr. Alridge's history class?" Wes asked over his shoulder. "You sat two rows in from the front, on the left by the windows."
The handcuffs snapped shut with a sharp click. Glancing back, I could see the hard metal edge dig into the flesh of Wes's wrist.
"Bet you don't remember where I sat," he said. |
The guard turned him around and propelled him toward the door. Wes stopped and twisted back to face me. "In fact, what I remember most about that class was watching you. It was a whole lot more interesting than history. You'd sit there with that look of rapture on your face, like
you were interested as hell in all that stuff about George Washington and the Continental Congress. But you used to spend an awful lot of time tugging at the crotch of your jeans." He grinned. "I always wondered if you had your mind on history at all."
After the guard ushered Wes out I stuffed my papers into my briefcase and stomped down the hall to the elevator. The only thing worse than an uncooperative client was one who was also hostile. As far as I could tell, I'd just grabbed the brass ring.
He was also wrong. I had liked history. Alridge was one of those teachers who made the subject come alive. Could I help it if tight jeans had been the fashion?
Angrily, I poked the elevator button. Wes had been wrong about something else too. I'd known exactly where he sat. In history and every other class we had together. It was always in the last row, at the back of the room. And it was always the first spot my eyes were drawn to each day. Gypsy magic.
I shifted my briefcase to the other arm and took a deep breath to calm myself. Most of what I needed to do in preparing the case didn't directly involve Wes anyway. With luck, I could do my part without having to interview him further.
Still, I thought it would be helpful if he'd give us something more to work with than "I didn't do it."
Unless, of course, there was nothing more to give because he really hadn't
The elevator arrived and I got on. Two floors down, I was joined by Curt Willis, deputy DA and prosecuting attorney in the Harding case.
"Hey, Kali," he said byway of greeting. "It's been awhile."
I couldn't honestly say whether it had been or not, but I nodded anyway. Curt's a master of small talk and doesn't much care what you say in return. He's about my age, honey-blond hair with matching brows and lashes. Good-looking without actually being attractive. At least not in my book. I find him a bit too polished to be considered sexy, although we'd dated a couple of times when I first got to town.
"I visited your old stomping grounds last week," he said. "San Francisco's quite a place."
I nodded again.
Curt smiled, looked at his watch. "Say, it's just about quitting time; you want to have a drink? It would be nice to talk to a thinking human being for a change. I don't believe I've had a conversation all day with anyone brighter than a toadstool."
"Surely it's not that bad."
"Close."
Although I hadn't actually accepted Curt's offer, we struck out in the direction
'Think about it," I told him.
"Hey, guard!" He beat on the door with his open palms.
"Please, Wes. At least think about your defense." My voice had an urgency that surprised me.
It must have surprised Wes too. He turned to look at me.
"Sam and I know the law," I told him. "But you're the one who knows where you were that night, what you did or didn't do. It would help the case if we had a coherent scenario that would explain away the evidence against you." I paused. "And we certainly don't want to be surprised in court."
The guard opened the door and nodded in my direction, ignoring Wes as though he were invisible. 'You finished here?"
I nodded. "I guess so."
The guard thrust Wes against the wall face first, then reached into his pocket for the handcuffs. I turned away, embarrassed to watch.
"Remember Mr. Alridge's history class?" Wes asked over his shoulder. "You sat two rows in from the front, on the left by the windows."
The handcuffs snapped shut with a sharp click. Glancing back, I could see the hard metal edge dig into the flesh of Wes's wrist.
"Bet you don't remember where I sat," he said. |
The guard turned him around and propelled him toward the door. Wes stopped and twisted back to face me. "In fact, what I remember most about that class was watching you. It was a whole lot more interesting than history. You'd sit there with that look of rapture on your face, like
you were interested as hell in all that stuff about George Washington and the Continental Congress. But you used to spend an awful lot of time tugging at the crotch of your jeans." He grinned. "I always wondered if you had your mind on history at all."
After the guard ushered Wes out I stuffed my papers into my briefcase and stomped down the hall to the elevator. The only thing worse than an uncooperative client was one who was also hostile. As far as I could tell, I'd just grabbed the brass ring.
He was also wrong. I had liked history. Alridge was one of those teachers who made the subject come alive. Could I help it if tight jeans had been the fashion?
Angrily, I poked the elevator button. Wes had been wrong about something else too. I'd known exactly where he sat. In history and every other class we had together. It was always in the last row, at the back of the room. And it was always the first spot my eyes were drawn to each day. Gypsy magic.
I shifted my briefcase to the other arm and took a deep breath to calm myself. Most of what I needed to do in preparing the case didn't directly involve Wes anyway. With luck, I could do my part without having to interview him further.
Still, I thought it would be helpful if he'd give us something more to work with than "I didn't do it."
Unless, of course, there was nothing more to give because he really hadn't
The elevator arrived and I got on. Two floors down, I was joined by Curt Willis, deputy DA and prosecuting attorney in the Harding case.
"Hey, Kali," he said byway of greeting. "It's been awhile."
I couldn't honestly say whether it had been or not, but I nodded anyway. Curt's a master of small talk and doesn't much care what you say in return. He's about my age, honey-blond hair with matching brows and lashes. Good-looking without actually being attractive. At least not in my book. I find him a bit too polished to be considered sexy, although we'd dated a couple of times when I first got to town.
"I visited your old stomping grounds last week," he said. "San Francisco's quite a place."
I nodded again.
Curt smiled, looked at his watch. "Say, it's just about quitting time; you want to have a drink? It would be nice to talk to a thinking human being for a change. I don't believe I've had a conversation all day with anyone brighter than a toadstool."
"Surely it's not that bad."
"Close."
Although I hadn't actually accepted Curt's offer, we struck out in the direction
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