Page 132 of Winning Bid

Tanner glares at me. “Convenient excuse.”

“No part of this trial could be described as convenient, Mr. Walsh.”

“Your little story sounds romantic enough, but the problem I’m having with it is the part when you said you were stalking your ex because, to me, that sounds more like a man who lost control when he saw his ex with another man.”

“Neil Johnson is the one who lost control. Moss told you about the bruises on her neck?—"

“The word of an admitted murderer is what you want to hang your freedom on?”

I laugh. “You’re hanging your entire case on him, so which is it? He’s trustworthy or not?”

Tanner grunts, “No further questions.”

June is silent when I return to the defendant table. It’s a good thing because closing arguments are up next, and I should pay attention to that. But it’s hard.

I told the truth. Let the chips fall where they may.

I tune out Tanner’s closing. It’s a bunch of lies, making me sound unhinged and June sound slutty. But when Dana speaks, I try to listen. Still, I’m in and out, too shellshocked that it’s all out there. I made the choice to tell and I don’t regret that, but now I have to face the judgement of the jury. I hope it wasn’t too little too late. Even if it was, Dana’s one of the best. If anyone can turn things around, it’s her.

“… newlyweds. And so I ask you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, to fully grasp the concept of reasonable doubt. My client is here on first-degree murder. But the facts of the case do not warrant a first-degree murder charge. In fact, they warrant no charges. Mr. West acted in self-defense of Ms. Devlin, and even if you don’t want to believe that in spite of Mr. Kravchenko’s testimony, you must ask yourself this, can I, beyond all reasonable doubt, say this was first-degree murder? Can I separate two people who clearly love each other for the rest of their lives on a hunch?”

My body goes sick at the thought.

“The answer should be no. The law does not operate on hunches. It operates on facts, and the fact is that even the key witness for the prosecution brought up the bruises on Ms. Devlin’s neck. He told you what happened was not murder. My client told you it was not murder. The only person in this room who thinks it was murder is Mr. Walsh, a man who needs a high-profile conviction for his re-election campaign. The prosecution could not establish beyond a reasonable doubt that my client intended to murder Mr. Johnson.”

She pauses and falls quiet. Somber. “There was a fight. Mr. Johnson lost that fight after he tried to strangle Ms. Devlin. The loss of life is always tragic. I won’t deny that. But a loss of life does not equal a murder. Justice means Mr. West goes free. The prosecution failed to prove their case beyond a reasonable doubt. That is the standard you must uphold. The standard of the law is reasonable doubt.”

With that, she sits next to us. I don’t know how her words affect the jury. They’re inscrutable. The judge sends them out for deliberation, and court is adjourned. But when it gets late, the judge sends everyone home for the night.

June closes the door behind us and says, “I cannot believe you did that.”

“Telling the truth is the only way out after Moss.”

“You’re being an idealist! I never?—"

“Why are we lawyers, June?”

She blinks at me. “What?”

“If not justice, then why? The world needs to know what happened! They need to know Neil was a piece of shit who should be dead! They need to know I did the right thing!”

“I perjured myself for you! I put my neck on the line for you first, and you gave that pissant DA all the ammunition he needs to come after me next! You think you were protecting me by telling the truth? You damned me!” The muscles in her neck strain. She’s pissed, and I get it, but she’s overreacting.

“No, I didn’t?—"

She grunts at me, then heads for a bottle of whiskey, swigging from the bottle. “I cannot believe you are this fucking naïve!”

“He can’t prosecute you!”

“The fuck he can’t!”

But I almost smile. “If he prosecutes the woman who was attacked and nearly killed, he will tank his re-election chances straight into the toilet.”

She starts to speak, but stops herself.

“Besides, you lied to protect your husband after your husband killed to protect you. If anything, we seem like a couple in love.”

“As much as I’d love to believe anyone cares about that, I can’t. You fucked us. We’re both going to prison, so thanks for throwing yourself on your sword today. You’re a real hero.” She saunters to the bedroom, whiskey in hand, and slams the door.

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