Chapter 1
Prosecutor Lauren Heath looked over the file for her next case one more time hoping for something in it that made sense. She sat on a bench outside the courtroom as various cops, defendants and witnesses traipsed by her. Thankfully no one she knew so she could concentrate on the words she'd read too many times.
Nothing in the papers about the murder should have her washed in uneasiness. Still she knew something was off.
From a prosecutor's standpoint the case did make sense, but Lauren's gut told her there was more to this story than what was in this manila folder. She scratched her head, hoping to jog the part of her brain that resolved these issues. No enlightenment came. No last minute "Aha!" There was nothing.
The door to the court opened then closed momentarily letting the silence of the courtroom enter her consciousness.
She frowned, then sighed. She brushed her brown hair out of her face, silently cursing herself for not putting it up in a bun.
An eighteen year old girl was accused of murder and what should be a clear case of guilt and an easy trial for Lauren would not be. Only because she knew the case was not simple. No matter how much time she spent as a prosecutor, she still couldn't be cutthroat enough to let an innocent person go to jail.
The facts were clear enough. The girl had motive and was witnessed leaving the scene of the crime. Still, something did not sit right with Lauren. She couldn't go into the judge and tell him that.
"I have a feeling there is more to this."
She'd get laughed out of the courtroom. As a young woman, only a few years out of law school, she had to hang onto all the credibility she could.
The judge in this case was also a stressor for Lauren. Before she could think about Ethan her old lover, opposing counsel sat next to her on the worn, wooden bench. A large man, despite sitting on the opposite end of the seat, he still entered her personal space.
She looked him over. His suit screamed money and refinement.
The courthouse was not her usual stomping grounds, but she liked it anyway with its carved oak benches lining the hallway. Lauren glanced at the other lawyer hoping he'd get the hint she didn't want to be disturbed.
He didn't.
"For a prosecutor, you don't look so sure of yourself," Brad Kennedy said.
He unbuttoned the middle button of his double breasted, probably tailored, gray suit. The defense side of things obviously made more money than she did.
"The case is pretty straightforward," she said, finally.
He tapped his own tanned forehead. "But the wrinkle of concern between your eyes is telling me you don't think it will be open and shut. I like that."
He leaned back on the bench, stretching his long legs out in front of him. An observer might not think he was about to defend someone accused of murder.
Lauren wasn't going to give him any ammunition, especially if it was only her gut. She needed this win. Her boss had accused her of getting soft. And her boss was up for re-election in a month. Soft wouldn't do.
Closing her folder and tucking it into her leather briefcase, she said, "I think it will all be fine."
"Do you know anything about this judge? Ethan Grogan?"
The events leading up to the trial had received so much press that Brad had successfully argued a change of venue.
"Other than he's been on the bench for less than a year ."
No need for Brad to know she'd known Ethan in another lifetime. In college, when she'd been young and stupid.
"I heard he has political ambitions?"
Lauren shrugged. "Were you expecting the pos ition?"
Brad flashed a too white, too perfect smile. "No. I'm just a guy trying to get cr iminals their fair day in court. Due process and all that."
A chuckle rumbled out of her. "Right."
She knew all about Brad's political ambitions. He didn't want to be a judge. He wanted to be a senator.
Didn't anyone just want to be a trial lawyer anymore?
The bailiff opened the large wooden door. "First case. People versus Claire
Prosecutor Lauren Heath looked over the file for her next case one more time hoping for something in it that made sense. She sat on a bench outside the courtroom as various cops, defendants and witnesses traipsed by her. Thankfully no one she knew so she could concentrate on the words she'd read too many times.
Nothing in the papers about the murder should have her washed in uneasiness. Still she knew something was off.
From a prosecutor's standpoint the case did make sense, but Lauren's gut told her there was more to this story than what was in this manila folder. She scratched her head, hoping to jog the part of her brain that resolved these issues. No enlightenment came. No last minute "Aha!" There was nothing.
The door to the court opened then closed momentarily letting the silence of the courtroom enter her consciousness.
She frowned, then sighed. She brushed her brown hair out of her face, silently cursing herself for not putting it up in a bun.
An eighteen year old girl was accused of murder and what should be a clear case of guilt and an easy trial for Lauren would not be. Only because she knew the case was not simple. No matter how much time she spent as a prosecutor, she still couldn't be cutthroat enough to let an innocent person go to jail.
The facts were clear enough. The girl had motive and was witnessed leaving the scene of the crime. Still, something did not sit right with Lauren. She couldn't go into the judge and tell him that.
"I have a feeling there is more to this."
She'd get laughed out of the courtroom. As a young woman, only a few years out of law school, she had to hang onto all the credibility she could.
The judge in this case was also a stressor for Lauren. Before she could think about Ethan her old lover, opposing counsel sat next to her on the worn, wooden bench. A large man, despite sitting on the opposite end of the seat, he still entered her personal space.
She looked him over. His suit screamed money and refinement.
The courthouse was not her usual stomping grounds, but she liked it anyway with its carved oak benches lining the hallway. Lauren glanced at the other lawyer hoping he'd get the hint she didn't want to be disturbed.
He didn't.
"For a prosecutor, you don't look so sure of yourself," Brad Kennedy said.
He unbuttoned the middle button of his double breasted, probably tailored, gray suit. The defense side of things obviously made more money than she did.
"The case is pretty straightforward," she said, finally.
He tapped his own tanned forehead. "But the wrinkle of concern between your eyes is telling me you don't think it will be open and shut. I like that."
He leaned back on the bench, stretching his long legs out in front of him. An observer might not think he was about to defend someone accused of murder.
Lauren wasn't going to give him any ammunition, especially if it was only her gut. She needed this win. Her boss had accused her of getting soft. And her boss was up for re-election in a month. Soft wouldn't do.
Closing her folder and tucking it into her leather briefcase, she said, "I think it will all be fine."
"Do you know anything about this judge? Ethan Grogan?"
The events leading up to the trial had received so much press that Brad had successfully argued a change of venue.
"Other than he's been on the bench for less than a year ."
No need for Brad to know she'd known Ethan in another lifetime. In college, when she'd been young and stupid.
"I heard he has political ambitions?"
Lauren shrugged. "Were you expecting the pos ition?"
Brad flashed a too white, too perfect smile. "No. I'm just a guy trying to get cr iminals their fair day in court. Due process and all that."
A chuckle rumbled out of her. "Right."
She knew all about Brad's political ambitions. He didn't want to be a judge. He wanted to be a senator.
Didn't anyone just want to be a trial lawyer anymore?
The bailiff opened the large wooden door. "First case. People versus Claire
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