“Have you ever talked to anybody who works at my client’s company, MD Firearms?”
“You mean other than the gun store clerks?”
“Nice try. But they don’t work for us. I mean anybody actually employed by MD Firearms?”
“Don’t think so.”
“And when you illegally buy these guns for criminals, you don’t always buy guns manufactured by MD Firearms, do you?”
Even Beeson knew he couldn’t deny this one. The records were clear. “No. Though most felons seem to like that MD-9.”
Nice touch. Jason gave Beeson a quick smile and reminded himself not to get sloppy. “In fact, some of your straw purchases were at stores other than Peninsula Arms, correct?”
“If you say so.”
“Do you need to see the receipts?”
“Nah. I believe you.”
Jason paused. He knew that periods of silence could sometimes help refocus the attention of the jury. “Then let me ask you this question: If for some reason MD Firearms had decided to no longer sell guns to Peninsula Arms, you could have bought a different gun for Jamison, or you could have gone to a different store and bought the MD-9 there-right?”
Kelly let out a frustrated sigh. “That calls for speculation.”
“And so does your lawsuit,” countered Jason. He honed in on Beeson. “You need to answer the question. The judge will rule later as to whether the jury will hear it.”
“Can you repeat it again?” Beeson asked. It seemed to Jason like he was trying to buy time.
Jason had the court reporter read back the question and Beeson’s face went from concern to triumph-a dull math student finally understanding the formula.
“Maybe,” Beeson said. “But I would have never known that Jamison existed if Peninsula Arms hadn’t sent him to me.”
“Which is all hearsay,” Jason said. “The only person who told you that Peninsula Arms was involved in referring Jamison to you was Jamison himself; isn’t that right?”
“Objection. Asked and answered.”
“Do I answer again anyway?” Beeson asked, looking at Kelly.
She nodded.
“That’s right,” Beeson said. “Jamison told me. And it might be a little hard to cross-examine him.”
As Kelly was leaving the prison, Jason held the door for her. After two hours of fighting tooth and nail, she wanted to tell him he could dispense with the Southern gentleman charade. Instead, she found herself saying thanks. But when he tried to civilly discuss scheduling dates for other depositions and discovery matters, she blew him off. “Call me at the office,” she said. “It’s been a long day.”
“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
Kelly stopped and looked at him. The audacity. “No, thanks.” She knew she should probably let it go at that. Jason was young. He was good at depositions, but he obviously had a few things to learn about life. “This isn’t Ralph Wolf and Sam Sheepdog,” Kelly said. “Try to kill each other all day, punch a clock, wish each other a pleasant evening.”
Jason looked a little stunned, but Kelly was just getting started. “Your client pumps useless semi-automatic assault weapons into the black market and turns its back while people die. My client has to live the rest of his life without a soul mate. I know you’re just doing your job, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Jason stood there for a second, taking it all in. “Okay,” he said. “All right, I get that. But did I mention the coffee’s on me?”
Kelly sighed. It was hard to stay mad when he wouldn’t fight back. “Call me at the office,” she said. She turned and headed toward her car, hiding the faintest hint of a smile.
“Drive safe,” Jason called out.
Was he playing mind games with her, or was he really that clueless?
49
Bella Harper, it turned out, had an opinion on everything. Between smoking breaks, lecturing Jason on how to run a law office, and organizing everything in sight, she also tried to get Jason’s spiritual life squared away. She talked about her own dramatic conversion to Christianity just a few short years ago and how much it had changed her. “Maybe not in the smoking department,” she admitted. “But everything else.”
Jason must have given her a sideways look, because she immediately read his mind. “You think I’m bossy now? You should have seen me before.”
Jason had a hard time imagining how it could have been any worse. Bella was overbearing, but he would tolerate it because she got the job done.
The last week or so, they had been in an unspoken who-can-get-to-work-first race. Jason came in at 8:30 on Monday. Instead of welcoming him to the office, Bella said she had been worried that maybe he was taking the day off and forgot to tell her. On Tuesday, he arrived at 8:00 to find Bella at her desk with the coffee made. Wednesday, it was 7:45. When he arrived at 6:30 on Friday only to find Bella on her first smoke break, Jason threw in the towel.
“Are you sleeping here?” he asked. “Let’s talk about setting some reasonable office hours.”
They were out on the front stoop. It was dark, cold, and windy.
Bella took a puff on her cigarette and blew the smoke away from Jason. “You’re the one sending out e-mails at one in the morning. Pot, meet kettle.”
Jason smiled. “Maybe we’re not exactly good for each other’s workaholism,” he admitted. “Maybe we should both take a day off once in a while.”
“Yeah, like maybe Sunday. Go to church together.”
“Nice try,” Jason said. The invitation had become a running gag. Jason was careful not to disrespect Bella’s faith but made it clear that he really wasn’t interested. Bella had nevertheless declared her intention to drag him to church with her someday, kicking and screaming if necessary. She had already tried every angle, including telling Jason about all the single young women who attended.
“Okay, I might need a little assistance in the religion department,” Jason had said. “But I definitely don’t need your help in the dating department.”
“Right,” Bella said. “I forgot about that steady stream of bachelorettes beating down your door. Hard to know how you keep them all straight.”
Jason gave her his best I’m-the-boss-and-I’m-not-happy look.
She threw up her palms. “I get it. I mean, not really, but I hear ya.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Jason thought the conversation was over and started walking away. But something about Bella’s facial expression stopped him. She looked sheepish, a look he hadn’t seen from her before.
“What is it?” he asked.
Bella grimaced. It was obvious she was holding out on him.
“Bella?”
“If you get a call from Beach Weekly about their ten most eligible bachelors edition…” She stopped and braced for the reaction. “I sent that in before we had this conversation. So don’t get all huffy on me.”
The call came when Kelly was waiting in line for lunch at the small deli on the ground floor of her building. Judge Shaver’s cell phone.
“Hey, Judge,” Kelly said. She tried to sound natural, but her heart was in her throat. Shaver wouldn’t call unless it was very important. “Can I call you right back?”
“How long?” Shaver asked.
“A minute. Literally.”
“Okay.”
