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CHAPTER TWO
MARCELLA
"Show me what you got from the owner." I push aside the folder I've been going over and put my hand out for the statement, Micha picked up from the police station. He doesn't even bother to comment on the fact that I've yet to tell him please or thank you. Micha already knows he's on my shit list for roping me into this one.
I usually take my time when I pick a case to work on, with my record it's not like I have to scrounge at the bottom of the barrel to find clients that want to work with me. I've lost three cases in my five-year law career, and those were to some big name defendants. It's hard to beat the United States Government in a court case.
This case isn't something I would've chosen for myself, mostly because the evidence is circumstantial at best. I groan as I re-read the statement one of the workers gave. It didn't match with the owners.
Of course, it didn't match.
"Ugh, Micha, why in the fuck did you take this case. It's a fucking shit show." I complain.
"Because, I know you're the best at this, and the owner is a friend." He explains, and I squint my eyes at him.
At least he's right about one thing. I am the best at this shit. "Fine, I need to get some one-on-one time with the detective that first came to the scene and the owner of the Diamond Warehouse. It shouldn't be this difficult if the thief used a key code." Pulling out my notepad, I jot down a few things I have questions about.
"Yeah, that's what I said. I mean, it shouldn't be…"
"Wait a minute, wait…" I flip back to the previous documentation just to double-check what I'm seeing. "Are you telling me that the man who did the stealing used his own code to get in?"
"Yeah, how dumb is that shit." Micha laughs, but I don't join him.
That's really dumb. Too fucking dumb. There are times when you hear about people just thinking they can get away with things, but for the most part, they try to be a little slick with the crime. Using their own code is just way too dumb for such a high-level robbery.
"This stinks." I mutter, and Micha looks over my shoulder to see what I'm looking at. His closeness unnerves me. Something about him has always made me feel just the tad bit uneasy. I'm sure it has nothing to do with him. It has to do with the fact that I don't trust anyone, man or woman close to me.
My one attempt at fitting in while I was away at college put an end to all that. Everyone always told me that I was too serious and needed to relax a bit. I always thought that it was something that I couldn't do. After all, it was my grades and my serious nature that kept me on the dean's list and able to get the scholarship that allowed me to afford the tuition.
When my roommate and college popular girl invited me to a frat party with her boyfriend, I figured that would be the one time for me to let loose. I couldn't have been more wrong. They bullied me into drinking, drugged me, and then the both of them raped me. When I woke up, I immediately went to the authorities, but there was nothing the school could do since somehow my roommate was able to get my phone and create a text chain that made it seem like I was fine with everything that would happen.
The both of them got off scot free while I was left with a deep distrust for anyone and a burning need to become a lawyer.
I ran through law school and graduated at the top of my class, passed the bar on my first go, and am known as a Pitbull in the courtroom. My distrust works for me in my profession. I don't really care that it hinders my social life.
* * *
"I'm positive it was him. He's a bad seed. I don't know for sure, but I think he must be in a gang or something like that. Every time I see him, he's bruised up like he just got finished fighting." The owner of the Diamond Warehouse says, and I look over the still images he managed to get a hold of.
"Okay, I'll make sure to dig a little deeper into his background to see if I can find out any information pertaining to that." I put my hand out to shake the man's hand and grab hold of the rest of my belongings. So far, everything is going as planned. Rhett Dyer is already locked up behind bars and from what I've heard, his alibi is pretty weak. I would have put money on the fact that he would have been able to clear himself right away. If he truly is the man responsible for this robbery, and he used his own code, I'm going to be pissed that I wasted my talents on this.
Walking out of the small room and out of the police station, I'm greeted by a pacing Micha. He's been high strung since I've met him, but I wasn't expecting him to be here now. I'm just doing the basic legwork, so I don't really understand why he would feel the need to check on me.
"Micha? What's the matter?" I ask before I get to him.
"I just heard some news and thought you'd want to be privy to it." He crosses his arms over his chest, but his foot continues to tap giving away the fact that he's not as calm as his voice sounds.
"Oh? Please do share." I transfer my briefcase from one hand to the next and give him my undivided attention.
"I just found out that Mr. Dyer is putting in for bail, and he has himself a lawyer." Micha raises an eyebrow and I do the same. I have yet to face a lawyer that would strike any kind of fear in my heart when it comes to the work I do in the courtroom. Micha knows this, so unless Mr. Dyer is being backed by the dept of justice itself I don't actually know why he's telling me this.
"Well, I'm damn sure not going to let him get bail. Not with the amount of jewels that are still floating around. He's a complete flight risk. I'll talk to the judge about that, but who is this lawyer that you think I need to be warned about?" I ask.
Seems like Mr. Dyer is good friends with Counselor Kai Yang.
Butterflies and sparks race through my body.
Kai “BabyFace” Yang.
