Page 65 of His Surrender
He’d said he was falling for me. As I kissed him in the shower, the water raining down on us, I knew I was falling for him too. And it scared the fuck out of me.
***
Wednesday afternoon, I sat in the conference room with my prosecution team, going over the argument for trial the next day. Expert witnesses were coming in shortly to go over their testimony, and I’d give them a rundown of the questions that would be asked by me in court. I’d also prepare them for questions Emery might ask during the cross examination.
“Up to this point, both sides have presented a good argument,” I said to my team, flipping through the pages of notes I’d taken so far during the trial. “But tomorrow has the potential to sway the jury in favor of the prosecution. The crime scene specialist will testify that the defendant’s claim of how the attack happened doesn’t match the physical evidence. Add that to the text message between the defendant and her sister, and it could shine doubt on the self-defense claim. We need—”
A knock at the door cut me off.
“Mr. Foley?” Andrea said, stepping into the room. “I apologize for the interruption, but Emery Cross is here to see you. I told him to wait in your office.”
Emery is here? Why?
“Thank you, Andrea.” I looked at the people around the table. “Excuse me.”
I left the conference room and went down the hall toward my office. It was unlike Emery to show up at my work unannounced, unless it was important. We hadn’t talked for a while either, so the feeling of dread only strengthened. When I entered the room, Emery stood beside the set of windows that gave a view of a tall oak tree and small courtyard.
“Hey, Cross.” I closed the door behind me.
Emery turned to me, his face set in a grim line. “Good afternoon.” He had a folder in his hand and lightly tapped it against his leg. “We need to talk.”
“Those are the worst four words in the English language,” I said, approaching him. “Are we about to break up?”
Emery scoffed and scratched at his jaw. A nervous tic of his I’d picked up on in the years I’d known him. He’d cut his black hair shorter on the sides since I’d last seen him, and the top was slicked back in a sexy, classic look. Blue eyes focused on me before dropping to the folder in his hand.
“I’m here on business, Foley.” He tapped a finger against it before handing it over to me. “My response to the evidence you intended to present in court tomorrow.”
Intended? Past tense?
I flipped it open and scanned the document. Then my blood ran cold. “A fucking motion to suppress?” My gaze bore into his. “What the hell, Cross? It’s already signed off by the judge! That evidence was legally obtained, and you know it.”
“No, it wasn’t,” he countered, keeping a better hold on his composure than me. “It was a violation of my client’s constitutional rights.”
“Don’t feed me that bullshit. On what grounds? The police had a valid search warrant.” I had made damn sure of that too. One stupid mistake could completely fuck up a case. I’d seen guilty men walk free before because of errors made during the search and seizure, and I’d checked all the right boxes and done everything by the book to avoid something like this.
“The search warrant didn’t cover search by electronic means,” Emery answered.
“Like hell it didn’t,” I snapped, walking over to my desk to grab a copy of the warrant to prove it to him. “I covered all my bases, Cross.”
After rifling through the papers, I found the warrant and looked it over. Everything looked correct. And then I saw it. The section that listed the scope of the search had left out electronic devices. Ialwaysincluded that.
“How did this happen?” I slammed my hand on the desk, scattering the papers that had been in a nice little stack. The only thing I could think of was that my paralegal had either accidentally omitted the word by mistake or had used the template for an old warrant that didn’t cover an electronic search.
“I’m sorry, Foley.” Emery’s expression reflected his remorse. “It’s nothing personal. But my client has rights, and it’s my job to—”
“Save it for someone who cares, Emery,” I interjected, too frustrated to even function. That text conversation had shown intent. I could still make my argument without it, but Emery had really screwed me over. “You saw that text and freaked out because you knew you were fucked. So you got desperate and played dirty.”
“Played dirty?” Now, Emery was letting his own frustration slip through the cracks. “I did my damn job. It’s not my fault you made a mistake. That text conversation was ‘fruit of the poisonous tree’ whether you admit it or not. By allowing it into evidence, I’d be turning a blind eye to the justice system.”
“Justice? How can you speak of justice? You know it wasn’t self-defense. A good man is dead, and you’re protecting the one who killed him. How can you stand there in good conscience and pull this shit when it very well could mean that a murderer walks free?”
“Simple. I leave my conscience out of it.”
“Said like a good defense attorney.” I glared at him.
“I’m not going to waste time arguing with you, Jay.” Emery walked toward the door.
“Yes, we’ll leave the arguing to the courtroom,” I shot back. “Unless you come up with another underhanded scheme to derail my case.”
