AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And she was right. It was kind of fun, but we all knew it was only going to last the duration of our cab ride.
The Nash case was set for the week before Christmas, then there would be a short break before Levi would be back in court.
Where had the year gone?
LEVI
“A juror was tweeting during selection? Are you fucking kidding me? Which one?”
“Juror number four,” Tristan answered.
“Damn it.”
Good God, this case was driving me insane.
“Who’s replacing juror number four?”
They just looked around at each other before dashing for their notes. How the hell could I win a case with these idiots?!
“Who’s replacing juror number four?” I yelled.
“Deborah Padovano,” Thea said, as she walked in holding two trays of coffee.
“You, get up and take the coffee,” I pointed at one of my associates, and then to her, “You, sit down and talk, since no one else here seems to know a goddamn thing.”
They switched, and she rushed to the seat, grabbing one file from th
e stack in front us, and handed it to me.
“Deborah Padovano, age 72, her husband died six years ago of a heart attack and she never remarried, nor has any kids,” she recited off the top of her head.
“Where does she work?”
“She owns a small bakery and I think she might be good for us— you— this case,” she corrected herself.
“Why?” Tristan asked her, leaning forward.
“Her husband lost their entire life savings on a scam, forcing them to go back to work. He had a heart attack six months later, and she now owns her own bakery with the money she gained from his life insurance. I’m not saying she killed the man, nor am I saying that she was sad to see him go. There are thousands of women all across the country that hate their husbands. All we need is one, right?”
“Stay seated,” I said to her. “Everyone else, I want to know every horrible thing that Mr. Nash has ever done in his life, and I want it before the end of the day.”
“You, come with me,” I called to her.
She hesitated for a moment, then followed me out of the conference room.
“What do you need, Mr. Black?”
She walked with space between us as we headed to my office.
Betty gave me a look, the wrinkles under her eyes standing out more as I held the door open for Thea.
“Hold my calls for an hour.”
“Yes sir,” she said, with a hint of attitude.
“Is something wrong, Betty?”
“No sir,” she replied, as she pretended to type away on her computer.
