Page 54 of License to Kill

I placed my bets on the former.

Anxiety sickened me, and I had to keep swallowing to keep from throwing up in the courtroom and humiliating myself, my boss, and our client. I struggled to concentrate, using the notepad and pen as a lifeline while Pauline laid out the circumstances surrounding Jessica Hemshaw’s disappearance and recovery.

I found it interesting she didn’t provide the full evidence, merely laying out a general timeline and key points. Neither attorney would be able to do much without a briefing session, which would be given to both at the same time to keep the FBI’s involvement as neutral as possible.

Jessica had been found alone, and while Mrs. Hemshaw had been roughly in the same area, there was no hard evidence she had been involved in the kidnapping. The investigation was ongoing. Judge Taylor ordered the preliminary hearing to take place in six days before dismissing the session.

Pauline spoke to my boss and the rival attorney, scheduling in a briefing session for later that afternoon, which I booked on the office calendar using my phone. The entire time, I felt Jake’s gaze on me.

By some miracle I refused to question, I made it all the way back to the law firm before I threw up.

Mr. Desjardins had noticed the key similarity between me and the Thomas family: our last name. As soon as I emerged from the bathroom, barely in control of my stomach, he ambushed me. “How are you related to them?”

There was no use in hiding anything. “I’m married to James Thomas, the younger man on the team, sir.”

The admission almost cracked my fragile control over my stomach.

“Divorced?”

“No. Separated.”

“What stage of the divorce are you in?”

“We’re not in any stage of a divorce, sir. We’re just separated. He lives and works in Baltimore. I live and work here. We needed some space.” I needed the space, and Jake needed to learn he couldn’t just expect me to be a net ready to catch him, not when he’d let me fall because he valued his pack and family over me.

It still hurt. I had no doubt it always would.

“Is this going to be a problem?”

My inability to share the same room with them without throwing up would be a problem. “No, sir.”

“I think you’re lying to me. I’ll have to look into the legalities of your involvement. As you’re interior staff not directly related to the operation of the case, and they are only providing evidence on behalf of the FBI, it is probably not an issue, but I will inquire with the state.”

Familiar numbness settled over me. “There won’t be a problem, sir.”

“Make sure of it. Mr. Hemshaw is insistent I represent him for as much of his cases as possible.”

I shrugged, grateful for the chance to discuss anything other than Jake and the mess he’d made of my life. No, we’d made a mess of our lives, but he tended to land on his feet while I smacked face-first into the concrete. “He knows you’re inexperienced with criminal prosecution, and he will refuse to work well with the assigned prosecutor, giving the defense a substantial edge.”

“And how does that help him?”

“Plea bargaining. If the defense believes the circumstances are favorable for Mrs. Hemshaw to have kidnapped Jessica, they’ll encourage her to plead guilty to lessen the sentencing. If Mr. Hemshaw is wise, he’ll offer a pittance of what she’s owed in exchange for minimal sentencing and custody. An inexperienced attorney may not realize there’s more to the story, resulting in Mrs. Hemshaw paying for a crime she may not have committed. If Mr. Hemshaw did commit the crime, her opting to bargain rather than take on a risky, expensive trial benefits him. Mrs. Hemshaw probably can’t afford a good lawyer, so the defense won’t want to risk a full trial on what looks like an obvious lose. In a case like this, a state-provided defense attorney could be problematic. Some of them are talented. Some are not. She won’t be able to decide her attorney, so it depends on the luck of the draw for her.”

“It’s a shame, really. I suspect you would make a very fine attorney if you decided to expand your education. Make sure you’re ready to handle this afternoon, Mrs. Thomas—without throwing up afterwards this time.”

Why did brilliant men so often have to be assholes? I waited until he turned his back to flip my middle finger at him.

The briefing took place when I normally would have gone to lunch. Instead of nausea, I battled lightheadedness and dizziness, which made the problem of sharing a room with Jake and his parents insignificant in comparison. It took every bit of my concentration to take notes, leaving no time or energy to worry about Jake or what I should do about him and his parents.

Well, I spared a few moments to fantasize about strangling them, particularly Pauline.

Forty-five minutes into it, I reached for my glass of water and woke up on the floor, vaguely aware of a paramedic situating an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth. Blurred figures moved around me, but my eyes refused to focus. The next time I blinked, the sterile white of a hospital room surrounded me, and pain shot up my arm from someone inserting a catheter near my elbow. I yelped.

Somehow, the nurse managed to install the catheter and IV line despite my semi-conscious protests startling her. As soon as she had the drip started to her satisfaction, she began questioning me, and I struggled to produce the answers she wanted, ranging from my name, date of birth, place of employment, and circumstances surrounding how and why I had fainted.

A mix of dehydration and malnutrition took the blame for my fainting spell, with stress coming in a close third. The hospital wanted to keep me overnight for observation. Considering I couldn’t stand without becoming dizzy and running the risk of passing out again, the doctor and nurses won the argument without having to say a single word.

Being stuck in the damned hospital again made me easy prey for the various assholes in my life. Since we weren’t divorced and Jake had no scruples about using our marriage license to gain access to my room, I ended up with an unwanted, huffing visitor.