Page 125 of Free to Judge
“Eight years. Last two, I was a handler while my partner went undercover at Velvet Vice.”
“Velvet Vice,” he repeats like he was tasting it. “A gentleman’s club.”
“If you want to call it that.”
“Then you left the FBI?”
“Yes.”
“And did what, exactly?”
“I went to work at Hudson Investigations.”
Allister turns to the jury. “A private firm. Not affiliated with law enforcement. No jurisdiction. No oversight.”
“We work with local PDs, state agencies, even federal when asked. We handle cases they can’t. Or won’t.”
“Right. The noble mercenary.” He flips a page in his notes. “You’ve testified before, haven’t you? But not like this. Not against your former contacts.”
I don’t respond. Not yet. He wants me to fill the silence. “Why is that, exactly?”
“There were concerns about whether or not my partner was killed as a result of information I provided to my superiors.” I pause. “For the record, an internal investigation by the agency has cleared that.”
“But you still went rogue?”
“Yes. I wanted answers.”
“What did you do, exactly?”
“I became a defense attorney for the Byrnes’ family interests.”
“Money?’
“Yes”
“Violence?”
“On occasion.”
He leers at me. “Girls?”
“Never.”
“Never? Never is an awfully long time.” He pauses. “Did you or did you not have your photograph taken at Velvet Vice?”
I stare Kalie directly in the eyes when I lean into the microphone and admit, “Yes, I did.”
The jury titters among themselves.
“Yet you say you were never involved with the girls?” he jeers.
“I never was. The VIP room was used for business meetings.”
“Your honor, I would like to enter photographic evidence from Sexy & Social showing Mr. Conian receiving a lap dance at Velvet Vice.”
“Objection!” shouts the prosecution. “Those photos are being taken out of context.”
“I’ll allow the evidence. You’ll have the chance to challenge the context shortly.”
