Page 59 of The Wife

“That’s not going to fly with a jury,” King said. “And if I even hint to Janice Martinez that I’m questioning Kerry’s account, she’ll make me look like a misogynist Neanderthal with the press.”

“So you put on your case, and let Powell do the same. Let the chips fall as they may. Isn’t that what juries are for?”

“That’s not how it works, and you know it.”

It seemed to Corrine as if that’s exactly how it worked—or at least, should work. King seemed to think that it was his job—and his alone—to decide who should be punished and by how much.

“Anyway, I don’t know why I brought all this up. I was calling to tell you I got a subpoena from Olivia Randall, demanding access to our evidence because it relates to the civil case. Plus, she wants to suspend our prosecution until the lawsuit is resolved.”

The implication was clear. If they settled the civil suit, a joint request to dismiss the criminal case would be part of the package. “So what are you going to do?”

“What can I do? I’ll turn over what we have. As far as the timing goes, maybe you’re right. Let the chips fall. If the case goes away, it’s on Janice Martinez.”

As Corrine hung up, she could feel the case slipping away. Whatever was going to happen now would happen. Her work was done.

38

Three Days Later

What do you wear to court for your husband’s rape case?

I stood in my walk-in closet, remembering how absurdly fantastical it had felt when Jason and I first viewed the carriage house with our realtor—Julia, Juliette, Julianna, whatever her name was. The closet was nearly as big as my bedroom at Mom’s house, and it was in Manhattan, where everything was supposed to be smaller.

Now, two years after we’d moved in, the closet was still less than half full. I never was a clothes person. What did I really need? Jeans and T-shirts, some sweaters, a few dresses for special occasions. I opted for my go-to navy Trina Turk jersey dress, with three-quarter sleeves, A-line cut, and above-knee hem—originally purchased for Dad’s funeral.

I made a point to blow-dry my hair perfectly—the attachment aiming down on a big, round brush. I was careful with my makeup, using the expensive brushes pushed on me by the Sephora salesgirl instead of my fingers. I checked the mirror before I left the bedroom. Not bad.

Jason was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. If you didn’t know the context, you might have guessed it was our anniversary or some other special occasion. Sometimes I forgot how merely looking at him used to make me feel.

“Olivia still doesn’t know whether she’ll be there?”

Jason shook his head and popped a Nicorette from his pocket into his mouth.

Therewas the courthouse.Shewas Kerry Lynch.

We held hands as we walked out the door, a driver waiting for us outside.Please don’t let her be there.

When we entered the courtroom, I spotted Janice Martinez at the front of the spectators’ rows, conferring with a male lawyer on the other side of the bar. I assumed he was the prosecutor. A quick scan revealed neither Kerry Lynch nor Rachel Sutton. When Martinez sat alone in the first row as the judge finally took the bench, I allowed myself a sigh of relief. Coming there with Jason had been hard enough. I did not think I was strong enough to be in the same room with that woman.

Twenty minutes and two cases later, I flinched when I heard the courtroom door open. I snuck a quick glance over my shoulder, steeling myself for Kerry’s entrance. The late arrival was Susanna. She had promised to do her best to make it afterNew Dayaired, but her schedule was notoriously unpredictable.

She gave me a light pat on the knee and slid a few inches down the bench. The courtroom was full of reporters.

It felt as if all eyes were on me as the bailiff called Jason’s case and the judge asked Olivia about the pending motion.

“Your Honor, our motion seeks two objectives—one that I believe is uncontroversial, one that may require explanation. In the interests of efficiency—”

“You decided we should err on the side of discussion. Oh joy. Please tell me.”

According to Olivia, the judge, Betty Jenner, was far more defense-oriented than she appeared. In her spare time, she apparently loved wine, art, and the theater. In the courtroom, she enjoyed unleashing her dry wit to keep lawyers on their toes.

I followed along while Olivia recited the dates of Jason’s arraignment and the filing of the civil suit. “I have filed several demands for discovery, including subpoenas to ADA King for access to any evidence pertaining to the lawsuit filed by Ms. Martinez.” Olivia also listed a host of reasons to set over Jason’s criminal case while the lawsuit was pending.

The few times I’d seen Olivia in person, she seemed so normal. Better than normal, really. Sexy, confident, a little bit mean. I even wondered if she and Colin had something going on. Now, in court, she seemed completely different. My mind wandered, thinking about how most people spent their whole lives playing a character. Not me, or at least I didn’t think so.

The judge was asking the prosecutor, Brian King, his position on Olivia’s request for evidence.

“Your Honor, the subpoena was served only three days ago.”

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