Page 19 of Defend Me

He holds up one slender finger. Grayson is about four inches shorter than me, but his attitude can make him seem twice his petit size. “Don’t you dare. Do you know where I was when Harold called?Santorini. As in Greece. Do you know how many hot, gay men there are in Greece this time of year?Countless.I was sipping on ouzo and eating octopus and now I’m in some sort of Anne of Green Gables cosplay.”

He looks around at the room. It’s pleasant, and not what I was expecting. I thought it would be all florals, straight out of a Laura Ashley catalogue. Instead, it’s got pale green wallpaper, a queen bed with a pristine white comforter, a teak bureau and matching desk, and a window with a view of the bay.

“So,” Grayson says, plopping down on the bed and leaningback on his elbows. “What the hell have we gotten ourselves into here?”

I clench my jaw. “I don’t like this judge.”

“Yeah, talk about a dinosaur of the patriarchy. When he called you young lady, I thought you were about to shoot lasers out of your eyes.”

I give him a tight grin. “I wish.”

“And what’s with waiting to set the trial date? Is that how things work out here in the boondocks?”

I ignore the dig. “How should I know? I’ve never tried a case in Magnolia Bay. But I have a sneaking suspicion this trial is going to suffer from a lot of anomalies. And not ones that will tend to our benefit.”

“I’ll say. Did you see that look between him and the prosecutor?”

“I did,” I say darkly. That does not bode well.

Grayson tilts his head to examine me. “But seriously,” he says. “You sure you want to do this? Defend the man accused of murdering your mom?”

“He didn’t do it,” I say.

“It’s that simple?”

“It’s that simple.”

We’ve defended plenty of guilty men. I’ve gotten very good at seeing through their bullshit. Noah has no bullshit. He has no guile. Watching him walk into that courthouse today, seeing him embrace his grandfather, the panic on his face, the reality of the situation finally sinking in as half the damn town sat on the prosecution side of the aisle…he’s not that good an actor. He’s not a good actor, period. If I had any doubts before, they’re gone now.

Who would ever have thought it would come to this. Me defending Noah Patterson. I wonder what Mom would say. Probably something like she’s happy we’re finally on the same team. She always wanted me to get along better with Noah.

“But we need more proof,” I say. This nightmare isn’t going to end until the real killer is caught.

“You know what Harold always says,” Grayson warns me.

I know. “A defense lawyer’s worst nightmare is an innocent client.”

Because if you lose that case, it’s on you. You’ve condemned an innocent person as surely as the jury did.

“Exactly,” Grayson says. “You up for that? Inthiscase?”

I glare at him. “You’re forgetting the second part of Harold’s saying.”

Grayson smirks. “But if you win, it’ll be the best goddamn win of your life.”

I nod. “And that’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to win.”

“Okay,” Grayson says, rolling up his sleeves. “Let’s get started.”

The next morning, I’m making an americano before heading to Noah’s house when Daisy pads into the kitchen, wearing a pair of oversize sweatpants and a cotton camisole.

“Hey,” I say, then notice the circles under her eyes. “You okay?”

She shakes her head, her messy, strawberry-blonde bun quivering. “I’m so worried about Noah,” she says quietly.

“Why?” I ask, in my softest voice, which to be fair is not all that soft.

Daisy looks hurt and I realize I’ve asked the wrong question. Or asked it the wrong way. “That judge didn’t even want to give him bail. All those people, sitting on the prosecution side! Emily Cochran? I thought she was my friend.”

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