Read Online Unlucky in Law by Perri O'Shaughnessy - Free Book Online Page A

table. “Yes, that is a fine idea. Get your toes wet.”
    “But . . .” She thought, What is going on here? She picked up the yellow lined papers he had given her and inspected them harder this time. A flowery greeting covered the first page, half-illegibly. The other pages, other than some fountain-penned chicken-scratchings of notes, were essentially personal reminders that could speak only to Klaus.
    She rocked back, thoughts racing. Why had he fobbed the opening off onto her? He might mean to toughen her up for the long race by demanding an opening sprint. He might be overreacting to her doubtfulness. Or he had reasons she couldn't yet fathom.
    She looked at him. Klaus had lost not a shred of dignity through the years. Though physically small, he gave the overall impression of enormity, which was never so apparent as when he was interviewed or photographed by the press. He was the local legal colossus, as historically significant in his own world of Monterey County as Ernest Hemingway and Franklin Roosevelt were in theirs. He had won cases that couldn't be won and had made law along the way. Who was she? By comparison, she was a pipsqueak mouse skittering in the corners of the courtroom, hardly one to question him. And yet . . .
    Calmly awaiting her reaction, he tugged on his goatee.
    “We'll reserve our opening statement,” she said, summoning her resolve, frightened for Stefan. “We'll present it after the prosecution has put on its case, when we put on the defense.” She didn't want to do it, but they had that right. What a shame, and what a mess. She had spent two weeks getting ready for the witnesses, picking up fallen pieces Klaus apparently had not noticed. She had depended on one of his famous, rip-roaring opening statements today.
    She pictured Stefan, as displaced from his normal life as an ocean fish plopped into a fishbowl. He had been in jail before and seemed resigned, but she could see the toll the months away had taken. He was beaten down, upset at losing the girl he loved, and taking on the debilitated air of a loser beyond hope. He needed them to do their best work to get him freed and back on track with his life.
    “No.” Klaus shook his head. “We have to establish a good relationship with the jury. The judge barely let us talk to them during the selection process. You will be fine. I will be right there at the counsel table to advise you.” Somberly, contemplatively, he went on. “I have been trying cases for fifty years. I know we will win this one, so please, straighten up. Do not walk into the courtroom like a beautiful partridge in a gun sight, Miss Reilly. Emanate confidence.”
    “I
was
confident a few minutes ago.”
    “You will do fine,” Klaus repeated, smiling warmly.
     
    “All rise.” The courtroom unsettled. The audience in the pews, the spanking-new jurors in their weekday best, and the principals at the counsel table stood up. Judge Salas appeared at his dais.
    “Oyez, oyez, the Superior Court of the County of Monterey, Judge José Salas presiding, is now in session.” The audience adjusted itself, already sounding like a chorus of critics to Nina, who sat up front at the counsel table nearest the jury box on the left side of the room, Klaus on her left, and nearest of all to those who would judge him, the defendant, Stefan Wyatt.
    Stefan wore a sleek suit from the men's store on Alvarado in Monterey. He tugged on his tie trying to loosen it, pulling it tight instead. His shoulders bulged immoderately. He belonged outside, digging up streets in the hot sun, a young workingman who looked so good in his scruffy leather belt and jeans that women wanted to hoot as they passed by.
    “The People of the State of California versus Stefan Alex Wyatt. The defendant is present. State your appearances,” Salas said in his high voice. He had spent years wangling a judgeship and intended to stay and make the most of it. He liked to preserve all the niceties, and Nina, who had