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The moment anyone notices my erection, they’re going to force me to return to the reject barracks. Although I was content there until an hour ago, disappointment squeezes low in my belly when I think I’ll have to return.
Chapter Two
Jo
“Are your affairs in order?” My attorney, April, asks.
Her question slams into me, causing my heart to pound in my chest. “Are you talking… d-death penalty?” As we’ve prepared for this trial for the past eight months, I thought I was looking at four to ten years, which is bad enough.
“No! No, Josephina. We’ve been over this. The death penalty isn’t on the table, but your trial starts in two days, and the DA is bound and determined that you serve hard time for this. What I meant is, have you spoken to your landlord about early termination?”
Early termination? Why did she have to use that word? Now my mind is looping on the idea of the death penalty.
“Have you arranged for people to help you move your things into storage?”
“I thought you said I had a good chance of getting off.”
Where have I been the last eight months as we prepared for trial? Understanding how serious the situation was, I stayed off the dark sites. How did I miss that my own lawyer thinks I’ll be in jail by the end of the week?
“That’s why I asked you to come to the office today. The DA produced a last piece of evidence. It’s a common trick. They are under orders to produce their evidence, but they can ‘find’ something at the last minute, which puts us at a severe disadvantage because we have less than forty-eight hours to prepare.”
She pulls something up on her screen, turns it toward me, and lets it play out. There, plain as day, is my hacker signature breaching Liberty Trust Bank’s back door.
Damn Chris all to hell. Did I not know him at all? We were lovers, for God’s sake. Was he framing me for his illegal activities from the moment we got together? Bastard.
“It’s the smoking gun, Josephina. My assistant and I will do everything we can with the time we have, but… they’ve caught you red-handed.”
“But I didn’t do it,” I tell her for the hundredth time. “What about a continuance?” I know I’m grasping at straws. The court turned down our last two requests for more time.
“I’ve already put in a motion, but don’t count on it.” She scoots her chair closer and leans forward. “If you have any Hail Marys, now would be the time.”
“Hail Marys?”
“Miracles? Someone you know with a similar computer signature that might cast doubt that you were the perpetrator? A friend in high places? Someone with terminal cancer who will take the fall for you? Maybe your uncle is the President?” She sighs, looking genuinely concerned for me. “Otherwise, you’d be best served by at least talking to someone about helping you pack up your belongings.”
The meeting continues for a few more minutes, but I can’t pay attention. I’m too worried. Prison. Maybe I’m crazy, but I never thought it would come to this.
After driving home, I strip down to my underwear, crawl into bed, and contemplate the cold, hard facts.
There is no one who would take the fall for me, no one I can pin this on. I have no friends. That happened when my ex-boyfriend and my ex-best-friend became a couple somewhere between my being charged and my having to sell just about everything I owned to pay for my legal defense.
“I do have a friend in a high place,” I whisper to the empty room. “I guess I need to give him a call.”
Slater. He’s my stepdad, but I never found it in my heart to call him Dad. I resented him when he married my mom. Looking back, I think I was jealous. At the time, I felt he was ruining things with me and my mom. Actually, in twenty-twenty hindsight, I must admit he brought a great deal of needed stability to our home.
I not only think Slater has the connections to get me out of this jam, but I’m also pretty certain he’ll drop everything to do it.
I don’t even realize I’m crying until a tear rolls into my ear. This disaster has been going on for eight months and I’ve yet to shed one. Until today. Everything just became real. Despite my tendency to put on a brave face, I feel as though my whole world is crumbling. I’ve got one chance at a Hail Mary and I’m going to take it.
After washing my face and climbing back into my clothes, wishing they were armor, I dial the bane of my childhood and adolescence, Colonel Jason Slater.
“Hi… Slater.” Why is it still awkward to call him Dad after all these years? It’s not as if I have a real dad. I don’t remember the man. He bailed on us when I was two years old.
“Josie?” He sounds surprised to hear from me. Of course he is; we haven’t spoken in years.
I should take a moment to play the game—banter, small talk. But I don’t. I don’t want to, and the Colonel isn’t the small-talk type.
“I’m in trouble.”
