She grabbed the folder from his hand. “When you live at work, it’s hard not to take your work home.”
He chuckled.
She didn’t.
She opened the folder and looked into it. Inside were more photos from crime scenes all over Downtown Coral Beach. One was of a blood spattered prison cell and a security guard lying limp, but not dead, against the bars. The next photo was profoundly more disturbing, but it still intrigued her. He still intrigued her. It was Genblade, laughing hysterically, showing off his jagged teeth. His lips were lined with redness. His eyes were there again, such a light blue that they were almost white in the black and white photo, cutting through to her soul.
She shivered.
Following the pictures was the request from the D.A. that Genblade be executed as soon as humanly possible, by act of the state. Following that was a letter, the toner of which still smelt fresh. It was ragged and tattered, its corners lined with redness. One eyebrow moving upward, she glanced at Nate from over the top of the letterhead.
He shrugged dramatically, then turned to watch Gwen and smiled.
Frowning, she turned back toward the document and started to scan through it.
Kind representative of Mayer, Summers and Soul;
It has come to my attention recently that a person/ persons at your firm has come into contact with my case file after my information was sent to you via the District Attorney.
Lavish as it is for me to have a fan, I feel it necessary to inform you that I have plead guilty to the majority of the crimes to which I am accused.
Likewise I am sure you are aware that I am expected to spend the remainder of my short life in a maximum security upstate while awaiting execution.
You above anyone understand how unacceptable this is. I have grown to regard Coral Beach and this place with fondness and do not wish to leave any more than I wish for my life to end.
Ordinarily I would be appalled at admitting this, but I find myself overcome with fear at the idea of my death. I do not want to die, sir or madame. I wish to live and to learn of the world around me, albeit through the bars of a gilded cage. I wish to fight the death penalty sentence as well as my conviction. As such, I will require the services of a lawyer.
Understand that despite all accounts, I do have the means with which to compensate you handsomely.
Sincerely, Adam Genblade.
Natasha stared at the ledger for a moment, then looked over it at Gwen as Nate moved a strand of her dark hair out of her face.
In her mind’s eye she could see it. She watched her own tears dry up in an instant. She saw her ex-husband finally being forced to pay child support and give his daughter the attention she deserved. The attention she never got. She saw the firm becoming one of the most influential in all of Maine again. She saw herself buying away her rich father’s family’s land and kicking them onto the streets with no resources to call their own. Most of all though, she saw a real future for Gwen. A future where life’s disappointments all happened to miss her, rather than hit her head on as they had been.
She saw all this in an instant, as clearly as if she were looking into a crystal ball. This was her chance to do it. To prove once and for all that she was good enough.
“I’ll take it,” she mumbled, already forming a defense for Genblade in her head.
Mike watched Cathy’s tiny nose tilt up a little with every breath she took, displacing hairs and making them fall into her face. His nose was millimeters from hers, moving back and forth in tune with her as she breathed in and out.
In, out.
A smile perked along his freckled cheeks as he carefully pushed her dark hair away from her eyelashes with one finger. She frowned once, squeezing her eyes closed as she adjusted herself in her sleep, then quickly fell back into her calm, steady rhythm. The movement shifted her hair, making it messy and tangled as it doubled over onto itself.
He stifled a laugh, turning away and bringing his fist to his mouth. She stirred again and he cursed himself, holding his breath until she settled again.
She hadn’t gotten any sleep all day. He, at least, had been drifting back and forth because of the painkillers the nurses had dosed him with. Medicated sleep wasn’t good sleep, but it was better than none. She’d just lain there, staring at the wall all day until she’d come into his room. She had been laying in his arms only eleven minutes before she was sound asleep.
His arm tingled painfully, a pinching burn shooting up from his fingertips whenever he tried to move them. He grunted in discomfort but dared not move. As long as she was sleeping, he could deal with his appendages doing the same.
She sniffled once, her nose twitching from side to side like a rabbit, and then she resumed her slow, intense breaths.
Grinning, he turned away from her and stared up at the ceiling. There was an odd, circular blue light staring back down at him attached to a crane-neck that was bolted to his headboard, the screws of which were currently burrowing into the back of his skull. Beyond it a small drip of condensation had formed on the white tile ceiling close to his window, moving up and down in a tug-o-war between gravity and
