Page 9 of Defend Me

“Are you seriously questioning my credentials?” she demands. “I graduated summa cum laude from Columbia. I work for one of the top corporate defense firms in New York City. I?—”

“Okay, okay,” I say, holding up my hands before she can give me her entire resume. “I get it. You’re good.”

“I am,” she says. Then she eyes my rumpled shirt and pants. “You can’t wear these clothes to the arraignment.” The sheriff took my blazer along with my keys, wallet, and phone. “Do you have a suit?”

I gesture to myself. “Thisismy suit.”

“Another one, I mean.”

“This is my only suit,” I say.

Von closes her eyes briefly in impatience, like I’m being stupid on purpose. “How can you have been friends with my brother for so long and not have more than one suit?”

“He doesn’t buy my outfits,” I snap. My already frazzled nerves are fraying even further. “Can’t you get me out of here now? If you’re such an amazing lawyer, isn’t there some way to force the sheriff to let me go? Or just do the arraignment now?”

“I thought you understood the criminal justice system,” Von says, her words laced with sarcasm. “Courts are closed on weekends.”

“Idounderstand,” I shoot back. “It just seems pretty unfair. I don’t belong in here.”

“We’ll get you out,” Von says. “There’s no way you won’t get bail. It’s your first offense. You’re a cop, for god’s sake.” She cocks her head. “Do you know the prosecutor?”

I nod. “Wilbur Jenkins. He’s tough but fair.” That brings me some comfort. Surely, someone like Wilbur will see that I’m innocent. This will all be over on Monday. The judge, whoever getsassigned this case, will see that the evidence is so flimsy, that the sheriff never should have made the arrest, and more importantly, that there is no way I could have killed Marion Everton. He’ll dismiss it outright.

Von’s gaze strays down to my shirt again. “I’ll see if Alistair has something that might fit you.”

“No,” I say. “I have another pair of slacks and some button downs at my house.” I’m not showing up to court in Alistair’s clothes. I know it’s not the most important thing at the moment, but I need to feel like myself. I don’t want to walk into that courtroom in a borrowed suit.

Anger flares in my chest. I should not be walking into a courtroom at all. Because I didn’t fucking do this.

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll tell Caden to get them for you.”

“Can you please ask him to check on my grandfather?” I ask. “And Penny.”

Von frowns. “Who’s Penny?”

“My dog.” My throat tightens and my eyes fill with sudden tears, as a desperate panic crawls up my chest. I just want to go home.

Von’s face remains expressionless. She seems to pause for an eternity before giving me a curt nod. “I’ll see you Monday morning.”

She turns and her heels click down the hall. I hear the door open and close. The silence she leaves in her wake is deafening.

I stumble back down onto the bench, sink my head into my hands, and let the tears fall, where no one can see.

CHAPTER FOUR

VON

The following morning, I take my coffee out onto the back terrace with my laptop.

It was strange seeing Noah behind bars. Uncomfortable in a way I wasn’t expecting. Hearing the panic creep into his voice. Watching him try to hide his tears.

I’ve never had a personal connection to a client before. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever had an innocent client before. But I’m extremely good at compartmentalizing.

I turn the emotional side of my brain off and get to work. This is where I feel most alive—losing myself in data, in knowledge, searching for the key that will get my client off. This is what I love about being a lawyer. Putting the pieces together or finding the holes in the other side’s case. The fingerprint is the prosecution’s only hard piece of evidence. So I start with that.

I begin by looking into how fingerprints are pulled from bullet casings. I find out this is a relatively new technology. That’s good—new tech is unreliable. It hasn’t had years of testing andscientific studies. This means we can get our own expert to dispute it. I make a note to find someone to talk to about this asap.

My phone rings with the call I’ve been expecting.

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