Page 126 of Free to Judge
Allister, the slime bucket he is, tries to get me to admit the dance Nerissa performed was more than just an information drop. But he fails. Spectacularly. Especially when I point at his client—Jack Marshall—and explain how he murdered one of the other strippers in cold blood that night.
Allister can’t let it go. Won’t let me go. “While you were undercover, you attended parties. Conducted legal transactions for my client’s people. Were lent out to another crime organization to resolve their cases. Took part in legal transactions.”
“While collecting evidence, yes.”
Allister gives a casual shrug. “You admit, then, you lied.”
I keep my voice calm, the way Keene grilled into me during witness prep. “You don’t get to frame it like that.”
“How should I frame it, Mr. Conian? You were in deep with my client and his network. You acted as their lawyer of record to stay under. Now you’re breaking your oath to come clean.”
I let the silence sit for a moment, then give him credit, “You’re right about one thing.”
The courtroom stills.
“I knew testifying would cost me. I have no doubt that the bar association is going to revoke my private license. Hell, I’ll be lucky if the penny ante crap I actually prosecuted isn’t overturned. Certainly, the Byrnes should be concerned whether the villas I purchased for them in Cork and Tuscany are legal. But I didn’t come here to protect my career.”
I glanced at Kalie again. She hasn’t moved, but her eyes aren’t as fierce as they were before. They’re as warm as they were when we woke up in bed together this morning. “I came here because I will not sit by and let these men walk.”
Allister scoffs. “So you claim you’ll sacrifice everything. For justice.”
“No. There’s only one thing in the world I have worth protecting. It’s not justice. Not anymore.” I motion with my eyes toward my wife. “She’s sitting right there. The woman I gained because she punched me in the face at the courthouse two years ago. She didn’t know I wasn’t just a two-bit attorney bent on protecting criminals. It was her sense of justice that led me to where I am today.”
A couple of jurors exchange glances. The older woman in the back leans forward.
“She forgave me when I didn’t deserve it for harming our relationship when I got scared over too many things related to her and this case. When I finally understood what being undercover meant. Not once did she ask me to give up justice formy partner. My wife just gave me a new purpose when it was all done—love.”
Allister opens his mouth, but I don’t stop.
“We bought a house together. Tons of bedrooms, creaky floors, a backyard with a stubborn pine tree. We painted the kitchen together, even though we fought over the cabinet color. We run together first thing in the morning, sometimes after dinner. She reads contracts on the couch while I work cases that still matter—finding missing persons. The people who have fallen through the cracks.”
A lump lodges in my throat, but I push it down.
“My wife’s not just my future. Kalie’s my redemption.”
Allister frowns. “Your Honor, I’m not sure how this is relevant?—”
“It’s relevant,” I say, cutting him off, “because you keep trying to convince this jury your client’s somehow not guilty of attacking my wife—his own granddaughter. That I’m here to save my own skin. That I’m betraying some sacred code by throwing away a career I give two shits about when the truth is, I already gave all that up. The only thing that matters to me if I ever lose it is her. Nothing else matters but that.”
The judge studies me for a long second. Then nods. “Continue, Mr. Allister. But tread carefully.”
Allister tightens his grip on the podium. “Mr. Conian, are you or are you not aware that testifying today could compromise ongoing investigations related to the Byrne family?”
“I cleared my testimony with federal oversight. Anything I’ve disclosed is admissible and isolated from classified operations.”
Allister clicks his pen once. Twice.
“I have no further questions, Your Honor.”
“You may step down.” The judge gives me a nod.
I stand slowly. My legs feel heavier than they should. I turn and make my way down the steps from the witness stand, each footfall stronger than the last.
I don’t glance at the jury. I didn’t bother with Allister.
I have eyes only for Kalie.
Her gaze connects with mine with the look that wrecks me every time—equal parts love and pride. When I saw it in her eyes on our wedding day, I knew I’d do anything and everything to see it again.
