person of the opposite sex attracted enough to want to engage in sexual relations.”

“Thank you, Dr. Langford. No further questions.”

“Dr. Langford, during your three years treating Mr. Stassen, have you grown to like him?” Hennessey asked when he began his cross-examination.

“Yes. She’s very sincere about her goals and has sacrificed to reach them. I find that very admirable.”

“You weren’t present at the Gold Piece when this incident occurred, were you?”

“No.”

“So, you only have the defendant’s word that she wasn’t trading sex for money?”

“Yes.”

“Since you like Mr. Stassen, do you feel that you want to help him by telling this jury you believe him?”

“Of course, but I think her explanation makes perfect sense in light of what I’ve learned about Erika during our professional relationship.”

“Tell me, Dr. Langford, have you heard of men transitioning to women who have engaged in prostitution to validate their sexuality?”

“I have.”

“In fact, that’s not uncommon, is it?”

“No.”

“No further questions.”

“Ms. Lockwood?” the judge asked.

“Dr. Langford, is there a reason besides validating their gender expression that a male transitioning to a woman might engage in prostitution?”

“Yes. Survival. It’s not easy being a transsexual in our society. As a result of prejudice, they have higher rates of unemployment and a greater risk of poverty.”

“Does your knowledge of the reason many transgender people engage in prostitution support your belief that Erika did not engage in prostitution?”

“Yes. She has a job that pays very well, so she has a nice home, health care, and so on. Survival is not a problem for Erika, but validating her identity is.”

CHAPTER NINE

The State had no rebuttal, so the judge instructed the jury after Robin and Hennessey gave their closing arguments. Robin was always nervous when the jury was out. A verdict in an MMA fight came quickly. If you or your opponent were knocked out or tapped out, the fight was over. If the bout ended with both fighters on their feet, the judge’s decision was announced within minutes. But a jury could be out for days, and Robin had learned that trying to predict how jurors would vote was a waste of time.

Robin remembered a monthlong, multi-defendant murder case involving two gangs, extreme violence, and no light moments. Her client had the only viable defense, and some of the jurors had smiled at him on occasion. The jury was out for two days. When Robin heard some of the jurors laughing in the hall before returning with the verdict, she was certain that her client would walk. Guilty on all counts.

Robin, Mark, and Erika had gone for coffee in a shop near the courthouse to wait for the verdict. Robin had a good feeling about the case, but her nerves began to fray when an hour passed without a verdict. Then, fifteen minutes later, the bailiff called to let her know that the jury was back.

Robin looked calm, but her stomach was in a knot when the bailiff brought in the stone-faced jurors.

“Have you reached a verdict?” Anthony Carasco asked the foreperson when the jurors were seated.

“We have,” answered a forty-two-year-old housewife and mother of two, whose husband was a pastor at a Lutheran church. Hennessey brightened. He was certain that she would be put off by a transgender woman, and he’d slotted her in as a vote for conviction.

“How do you find the defendant on the charge of prostitution?”

“We find the defendant not guilty.”

Hennessey’s mouth opened involuntarily, and his face flushed bright red. Erika looked stunned, and Robin squeezed her hand under the table.

“Would you like the jury polled?” the judge asked.

“We’re satisfied, Your Honor,” Robin said.

“Yes. I would,” Hennessey said. He was certain that there was a mistake; that the foreperson had misread the verdict. But the verdict was unanimous, and several jurors nodded or smiled at Erika, who was unable to keep tears from running down her cheeks.

Robin and her client left the courtroom quickly, but Hennessey lingered. When everyone but Al Moody, the bailiff, was gone, Hennessey told Moody that he would like to talk to the judge. Moments later, the bailiff came out of Carasco’s chambers and told the deputy district attorney that the judge would see him in a few minutes.

While he waited, Hennessey rehashed the case. He couldn’t believe he’d lost. The case was open and shut. People who changed their sex were freaks, so he figured Stassen wouldn’t get an ounce of sympathy. Hennessey tried to figure out the specific point in time his case had gone south. Lockwood wasn’t that good. His closing argument had been much better. She’d argued that Stassen was never interested in trading sex for money, but Stassen had said they should go in the alley as soon as Balske mentioned the fifty bucks. How could the jury ignore that?

“The judge will see you now,” the bailiff said.

Hennessey hurried into Carasco’s chambers. Carasco was talking to his secretary.

“You can take off,” Carasco said.

“See you tomorrow, Judge.”

“And tell Al he can go too.”

“Will do.”

Carasco turned his attention to Hennessey, who was visibly upset.

“Have a seat,” Carasco said. “That was a tough loss.”

“Can you tell me what I did wrong? I mean, Stassen was guilty as hell.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Lockwood raised a reasonable doubt about the key issue, which was whether her client expected to be paid for giving your cop a blow job. And she brought in a very convincing expert. Did you know the doctor was going to testify?”

“Yeah. I got the witness list.”

“Did you try to interview her?”

Hennessey reddened. “I didn’t have the time. You know how many case files a new DA gets. I gave the case a fast look-see and figured Stassen would plead or I’d have an easy win.”

“There you are. First thing you need to know, if Robin Lockwood is trying the case, it’s never easy. Second thing, when you see that the other side has an expert, you’d better bone up on the subject area and find an expert you can bring in.”

“Yeah, I see that now.”

Someone knocked on

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