Page 59 of Cause of Action

“You heard me, detective. I cannot and will not issue a warrant for a wire without evidence that Gregory Williamson committed the crime.”

I heard my phone ding from my purse. When I pulled it out, I received an email I’d been waiting for—perfect timing.

“Here’s part of your proof, your honor.” I shoved my phone in his face. “As you can see, Gregory Williamson was the father of Grace’s baby. We have his car parked outside the restaurant the night of the murder, the receipt of the diamond necklace Grace was wearing, and the baby was his. I’ll also be able to provide more evidence soon.”

“Miss Ashley, what do you not understand? There’s no proof he committed the crime.”

“There will be once he confesses. There’s also a gap in his alibi. I believe he drugged his father during dinner, and as soon as he fell asleep, he left the house and went to that restaurant, murdered Grace, and then went back to his father’s house before he woke up. I’ll get the security footage from Mr. Williamson’s home showing that Gregory left.”

“Just like you believe he also murdered his mother?” Judge Barrister’s brow arched.

“Yes. He’ll confess to that, too.” I smiled.

“And how are you going to get him to confess?”

“Mind games, your honor. You already agreed to retry the case. Now, I need you to help me to get that confession.”

He stared at me momentarily. “You’re not leaving until I do it, right?”

“Nope. If I have to, I’ll sit in your courtroom all daywhere I will be in your perfect view, staring at you, reminding you that you sent an innocent man to jail.”

“Fine. You have your warrant. Now, get out of my office and let me finish my lunch!” he shouted.

“You’re good.” Simon grinned as we left the judge’s chambers. “You should come to work for the LAPD.”

“Nah. I like being a private investigator. But thanks anyway.” I smiled.

“Where to?” he asked, climbing into the car.

“Roman’s office, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

I entered the building and took the elevator to Roman’s office. As I was walking down the hall, rock music was blaring.

“What is going on?” I asked Olivia.

“It’s what Roman does when he needs to think hard about a case,” she said.

“Oh my God. How can you stand it?”

“We can’t. But we can’t say anything. He owns the firm.”

I opened his door, and Radiohead’s song “Creep” pierced my ears.

“Can you turn that off?” I shouted.

He turned his chair around, stared at me, picked up the remote from his desk, and turned the music off.

“So, I hear you blast music when you’re thinking hard about a case,” I said, sitting in the chair across from his desk.

“I do. It helps me think.”

“It gave me an instant headache. So, thank you for that. Anyway, we’re going to pay Gregory Williamson a visit tonight, where he will confess to the murder of Grace Norway. Judge Barrister signed a warrant for a wire, which I will wear.”

“You saw Judge Barrister?” His brows furrowed.

“Detective Simon Kind and I did. By the way. He says hi.”

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