TUESDAY, OCTOBER 9
It was early afternoon when Jaime reached the Alexandria Public Defender’s office. When she walked in, she was surprised to see a stranger at the receptionist’s desk. A temp? But the woman was busy on the phone, so Jaime went on back without introducing herself and knocked on Evan Reagan’s door.
He glanced up. “Hey, Jaime. What are you doing here?”
“I was in the area. Stopped to see if you needed any help with the Alex Parron defense. Have you had time to go over it?”
He sat back, then gestured to a chair. “It’s not your problem anymore. I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can. Still, if there’s a way I can help, I’d like to. Alex needs all the friends he can get.”
“I’ve got it, Jaime. It’s a straightforward case.”
She frowned. While Evan was only a couple years younger, he didn’t seem to have the fire in his belly necessary for a case as tricky as Alex’s. “Is this job a calling for you?”
He frowned at her, his dark hair flopping in his face. “What do you mean?”
“Do you believe people need a defense when charged, or is this job just a paycheck?”
“Can’t it be both?” He spread his hands wide as if placating her. “I promise I’ll give him a good defense. He could be guilty, you know.”
“Maybe, but the Constitution doesn’t say only the innocent deserve its protections.”
Evan shrugged. “It’s better when I know they’re innocent.”
“When you figure out how to ‘know,’ fill me in.” Jaime studied him and then took a breath. “Sorry, but I just need to know you’re taking care of Parron.” She sighed. “He doesn’t believe in himself, so you have to.”
“Sure. Don’t worry about him.”
She glanced at his desk and saw the Parron file on top. “Here’s what you have to remember about this case. Alex is a man in immense pain. He can’t manage that pain without help. You must find a way the jury can relate to him. We all know someone who struggles with chronic pain. That’s what the OxyContin was for.”
“So he says.”
“Yes.” She bit back a rebuke. “Right now that’s what you focus on. Not whether you believe him. What matters is what the jury believes.”
“This isn’t my first trial, Jaime.”
“Then act like it.” The words were strong, but she didn’t care.
“If you were so good at this, you would be defending him. Instead, you’re defending yourself. At least I’m not under bar scrutiny about my job.” He sneered at her, then seemed to catch himself. “I’ve got this. Focus on your problems, and I’ll run his trial.”
Jaime stepped back. “Just remember, a stint in prison would kill him.” She left the room without another glance.
As she walked past Grant’s closed door, she heard heated voices within.
“Jaime is a key employee.” Grant’s words halted her forward movement. Why would he be talking about her? She glanced both directions in the hallway but saw no one, so she stepped closer to the door.
“Find a way.” The deep voice froze Jaime in place. Who was talking to Grant about her?
“If we give it time, this will go away.” The placating tone was not the one she was used to from her boss, who represented the worst sort of criminals with firmness. “Don’t make this more than it is.”
“I’ll make sure those photos reach the right audience. I’ve given you a vehicle to fire her. Do it.”
Why would this man pressure her boss to get rid of her? She was excellent at her job and Grant knew it, ethics charges notwithstanding.
Jaime leaned closer.
“But you appreciate your position. People always regret when their younger selves’ mistakes resurface.” The voice, male, was low and intense.
“This is wrong,” Grant said.
“You’ll do it.”
There was a scraping noise of a chair moving. “I don’t like threats.”
“This isn’t a threat. Do it or the photos will be emailed Thursday.” There was another noise. “Don’t worry, I’ll see myself out.”
Jaime scrambled around the corner and then into the lobby. She lingered for a moment, holding the door to the hallway open so she could see who might come out of Grant’s office, but the receptionist gave her an irritated glare.
Jaime let the door close, her heart in her throat, and headed out to her car.
Who had the clout to insist she be fired? And would her boss actually do it?
Jaime drove toward the law offices of Daniels, McCarthy & Associates and purposefully parked a few blocks away. Maybe the walk and fresh air would clear her head and change her perspective.
Savannah had somehow purchased the brick storefront in the prime real estate market of the historic neighborhood as a solo practitioner. The space had been much too large, but she was filling it with her law student protégés. So far Jaime had dodged suggestions that she join the firm too, but maybe she should consider it.
As she opened the door, she was grateful to see Bella Stoller’s welcoming face. The middle-aged receptionist wore her trademark dark suit, a uniform that had always struck Jaime as though the woman were prepared at a moment’s notice for a funeral. Guess it was the twisted way Jaime looked at the world. For all she knew, Bella just liked a simple wardrobe with a slimming color.
“Hi Bella. Is Savannah available?”
“She just ran out. Some kind of emergency.”
“Any idea when she’ll get back?”
“None, but you should grab one of the girls for a coffee break. They could all use it.”
“I’m sure they’re busy.”
“Who’s busy?” Hayden entered the reception area with a file, which she set on Bella’s desk. She stepped around the desk and hugged Jaime. “What brings you here?”
“Needed to ask Savannah for advice, and I was in the neighborhood.”
“That is not what her face was saying a minute ago, when I told her Savannah had hightailed it out of here a bit ago.” Bella gave Jaime a look.
“It’s nothing terribly pressing.” Just the collision of her past and future in an unsettled now.
“Want to grab a cup of coffee?” Hayden turned as if to head back to her office.
Bouncing everything off Hayden would work as well as talking with Savannah. “I could use a mug of tea.”
“Come on back. Leigh brought in some homemade muffins. They’re super-healthy, and somehow still yummy.”
Jaime had to laugh at the way Hayden’s nose crinkled. “You say that like muffins can’t be healthy.”
“Have you seen the calorie counts on those things at coffee shops? But Leigh assures me these can taste good and be nutritious.”
Hayden led Jaime down the hallway to the small kitchen at the very end. A table and four chairs filled one wall, and a small refrigerator, stove, and sink the other.
Hayden reached into a cabinet above the dishwasher and pulled out two mugs. She filled one with hot water and pointed to a container. “Help yourself to a tea bag.” After filling her own mug with coffee, she took a seat. “What did you want to ask Savannah about?”
Jaime repeatedly dunked her tea bag until it became an obvious stalling tactic. Hayden waited.
Now that she was here, Jaime was almost desperate to avoid the topic that had brought her. But that was the coward’s way out, and Jaime was not a coward. “I’ve pressed charges against my uncle.”