Page 29 of The 1 Lawyer

“You’re right. I know that.” I backed off, but the conversation about Jenny’s marriage and my own was making me uncomfortable. I wanted to put space between us, but the room was too small, so I sat on the very edge of the mattress and changed the topic. “Did you meet with our character witnesses today? Are they lined up?”

She nodded. “Some of them. That’s why I called earlier. Some of the staff from Caro’s medical practice had contact with Aurora Gates when she was his patient. Do you want to scratch them?”

Jenny had raised a touchy point. Aurora became Caro’s patient as well as his lover, which was a breach of professional ethics. Gordon-James would jump on it in cross-examination. The jury wouldn’t like it. I knew that, because I didn’t like it.

“I need you to feel them out. At the top of each witness summary, make a note. If the potential witness encountered the victim in the office, I don’t want to call them. I don’t care how loyal they are.”

She nodded with a sober expression. She’d hardly touched her burger and now she picked up the coffee but set it down on the dresser again without taking a drink. “Okay, but how should I break it to them? Maybe I could just tell them we’ll put them on call? Or I could—”

My in-room air conditioner kicked on with an earsplitting squeal. Jenny jerked back, almost knocking the coffee off the dresser, and clapped her hands over her ears. When the noise dwindled to a rumble, she said, “Good God, Stafford Lee! How can you work in here?”

“You’d be surprised at the conditions a guy can adjust to.” The AC sputtered as if to prove my point.

Jenny glared at the window unit, then looked at me. “We’re old friends. You’re welcome to the spare bedroom in my house.” With her forehead wrinkled, she said, “That doesn’t sound weird, does it?”

My eye had started throbbing with a vengeance. I reached across the bed and picked up the soggy ice pack I’d dropped on the bedside table when Jenny knocked on the door. As I pressed it to my face, I said, “Thanks for the offer, but your spare room doesn’t have a commercial ice machine right across the hall.”

It was a reasonable explanation. I didn’t add that if I took up residence with a woman other than my wife, all hell would break loose.

CHAPTER 23

BEFORE COURT the next morning, I stopped by my office. I was in the back of the building, watching pages shoot out of the printer, when I heard pounding on the front door.

When I opened it, Jenny charged into the reception area, looking fired up. “What’s going on?” I asked.

Without answering, she walked into my office.

I went to get the hard copies of my motion and suggestions, which were still in the printer tray, and when I returned to my office, I found her seated and rubbing her forehead—her tell that she was thinking through a problem.

I sat across from her, behind the desk, and spread the printed pages across the surface. “I’m about to proofread my suggestions. Something we need to talk about first?”

Her hand dropped to her lap. “Yeah. I’m pretty freaked out.”

That got my attention. She wasn’t disposed to overreacting. “What happened?”

“I had an early meeting at Daniel Caro’s office, remember? To talk to one of the nurses. Her name’s Darinda Johnson. Have you met her?”

When I shook my head, she continued, “She’s been on staff for eight years. She’s sharp, well-spoken. Loyal.”

I picked up a pen and started to read through the document. “Sounds like she’ll be a Caro-stan. Say he’s a peaceable and nonviolent guy, right?”

“Stafford Lee.” Her voice was strained. I looked up. “There was another incident. Another victim. Did you know a patient of Caro’s was murdered a couple of years ago?”

“No, I don’t think I’d heard that.” I looked down, spotted a typo, and marked it.

She said, “It was another Black woman. Young. Pretty.”

I turned to the computer and corrected the error. “Yeah, well. The man’s got a lot of patients.”

“Are you hearing me?” she asked, her voice rising. “The MO is similar. They found the body in Gulfport.”

I scanned the document on the monitor, looking for more errors. When I glanced down at the clock in the corner of the screen, I saw that it was 8:36 a.m. Court convened at nine o’clock. “I really don’t have time for this right now.”

She stood and leaned over the desk. “Stafford Lee, listen to me. Another murder. Also Caro’s patient, same MO. It’s still unsolved, a cold case. What if he did it?”

I saved the document and hit Print. I needed to e-file the motion before court, but Jenny refused to let this go.

“What if he did it?” she repeated.

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