“Do you believe that hugging a client after an acquittal leads to moral turpitude, oh, for example, sleeping with her male clients?”

“Objection! There’s so much wrong with that question I don’t know where to start,” Nolan said, on her feet.

“Why, Counsel, isn’t that exactly what you were trying to imply?” Jack said innocently.

“Rephrase it, Counsel,” Judge Brock said, amusement twitching the corners of his mouth.

“Well, you know that Ms. Reilly is accused of sleeping with one of South Lake Tahoe’s finest, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think she gets too intimate with her clients?”

“She befriends them. She hugs them.”

“Shocking, isn’t it.”

“Counsel, let’s move on,” Brock said.

“Just one last thing. When you found Ms. Reilly’s vehicle, it was full of papers and used coffee cups?”

“It was pretty trashed.”

“Do you attribute that to Ms. Reilly’s generally being a trashy person?”

“What kind of question is that?” Nolan said. “I object. Counsel is making fun of the witness.”

“She’s calling my client trashy, Your Honor.”

“Move on.”

“Was the truck locked when it was found?”

“No.”

“Anyone could have had a few Gatorades and left them in the back. The thief could have gotten thirsty while riding around in the stolen vehicle, isn’t that correct?”

“Correct or incorrect, it’s irrelevant and it’s frivolous,” Nolan said.

“Anyone could have left that trash,” Jack said. “I feel it’s a relevant point.”

“Objection sustained,” the judge said.

“Did you have the Gatorade bottles tested for DNA? Trashy people drink out of the bottle, you know.”

“We don’t have the resources to go that far for a simple auto theft.”

“How about the coffee cup?”

“It looked like it had been there a long time.”

“You assumed it was Ms. Reilly’s cup?”

“Well, it seemed to be.”

“So let’s see if I can summarize your testimony up to this point,” Jack said. “You took the report, you can’t stand Ms. Reilly or criminal-defense lawyers in general, you did a half-assed investigation and got lucky and finally stumbled across the truck, and you think Ms. Reilly must have slept with Kevin Cruz because you saw her hug a female client after an acquittal by a jury?”

“Objection!”

“Sustained.”

“Ever see Ms. Reilly and Officer Cruz together, Officer Scholl?”

“No,” Officer Scholl said flatly.

“You’re darn right you haven’t. I have nothing further, Your Honor.”

“Jack,” Nina whispered after he sat down. “What about the fact that she hates me for making her look like an idiot on the stand? What about the fact that she may have cooked up this whole malicious plot?”

“Let me ask you a question. Should we rock Brock to sleep with harebrained theories about what happened, or should we try to win this case?”

21

G AYLE NOLAN WALKED to the courtroom door and opened it. Stepping inside, she called her next witness. Bruce Ford entered, moving quickly to the stand. His date of birth put him in his late twenties, although he seemed older to Nina. Bristly hair fringed his face, and dark curls were cut tight to his head. Like almost all lawyers, he had to correct his eyes with specs, but these were a hip green-tinted pair. He appeared well ironed into an expensive suit, but not happy to be here.

She had heard Nolan had twisted his arm to come. He didn’t want to come out publicly against a fellow attorney, although mean-spirited letter-writing was apparently acceptable practice. She shifted in her seat as Ford described his tax practice and educational background.

Gayle Nolan remained seated as she asked questions, the black notebooks on each side of the table framing her like big guns. Here was the chief trial counsel’s place of power, Nina thought, behind these windowless walls, in this aridity, fighting what she probably considered the good fight, sinking incompetent attorneys.

Attorneys like her.

“Mr. Ford, please tell us the circumstances that brought you here today.”

Bruce Ford took his glasses off and wiped them with a handkerchief, then placed them carefully back on his nose. “My fiancee, Brandy, hired Ms. Reilly as her attorney. She and her sister, Angel Guillaume, were present at South Lake Tahoe’s Campground by the Lake the night that Phoebe Palladino was killed. They had seen something that night, somebody running away from the tent Phoebe was in, so they went to ask Ms. Reilly for advice. They needed to talk to the police but were afraid about what would happen if they did. Turns out they were right to worry about that, only they should have been worrying just as much about who they chose to hire.”

“Shouldn’t you object?” Nina whispered. “He wasn’t even my client and he’s stating opinions.”

“We want the judge to see we respect his intelligence. He knows opinions differ from fact.”

“So Ms. Reilly was not specifically your attorney?” Nolan asked Bruce Ford.

“She was representing my fiancee.”

“What happened to you after your fiancee consulted Ms. Reilly?”

“I was in my office one day. A guy bullied his way through my receptionist and into my office. He introduced himself as Cody Stinson, but at the time that meant nothing to me. I didn’t know the name. Well, I see a lot of different types. First, I assumed he was a potential client who was just worked up about something. I get a lot of that. Then he started talking about strangling someone, and I suddenly realized he wasn’t there to consult me about anything.”

“In your opinion, Mr. Ford, why had he come there?”

“He was there to threaten and intimidate me.”

“What was the intimidation designed to accomplish?”

“He wanted my fiancee to quit talking to anyone about what happened at the campground. He was perfectly clear on that point. He swore she’d be sorry if she didn’t ‘shut her mouth’-only his language was much cruder than mine is here today. He threatened me, said he’d get me if I didn’t do something about her.”

“Then what happened?”

“I don’t know how I did it. Years of handling my alcoholic dad, I think. Anyway, I threw him out.”

“Did he go peaceably?”

“He broke a porcelain lamp that was on the secretary’s desk.”

“How did he do that?”

“Knocked it down. He was yelling. Very angry.”

“After he left, what did you do?”

“Moved in with a friend.”

“Why?”

“As he was leaving, Stinson taunted me. Said he knew where I lived.”

“You were frightened?”

“Very.”

“Did you tell anyone where you were?”

“Not for a couple of days.”

“You didn’t call your fiancee?”

He stretched his neck uncomfortably. “We were-having a hard time, but I tried to reach her. Didn’t have much luck.”

“After a few days, you made contact?”

“She found me. I knew she could if she wanted to badly enough.”

“What effect did this incident have on your business?”

“I couldn’t work. I didn’t take calls. It cost me money and made it hard for me to complete the work I had at hand. It had a distinctly negative effect on my business.”

“And on you personally?”

“I suffered tremendous emotional distress. I had to see a doctor. It exacerbated the problems with my fiancee.”

Jack, taking a different tack, stood when he talked to Ford, although he stood behind the table. He moved his weight from one side to the other, his compact body swaying like a tree in a wild wind as he thought on his feet. “Mr. Ford, why didn’t you know about Cody Stinson in the first place?”

“I hadn’t talked to my fiancee, Brandy Taylor, for a couple of days.”

“And why was that?”

“She was out of town.”

“But you were on speaking terms.”

“Of course.” But the eyes behind the green tint blinked.

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