‘Wow. You’re famous now. Can I touch you?’ Dayanara asked with a laugh as she and Julia slipped into a booth in a Miami Subs a few blocks removed from the chaos that probably still lingered around the courthouse. ‘Even though you’re skinny, don’t forget the camera adds ten pounds.’
‘Very funny. Notice who Farley kept addressing in that courtroom, who it was the press wanted to interview. It wasn’t me, Day. Fame doesn’t become me.’
‘Give it a little time.’
Julia made a face as Day rummaged through the abyss of her enormous purse. She dug out a box of Table Toppers – disposable kiddie placemats – stuck one to the table, and then neatly spread out her soda, burger and French fries, carefully covering all images of a smiling Dora the Explorer. ‘I wish they’d make these without the damn characters,’ she mumbled, sounding annoyed. ‘Speaking of people not wanting you to have fame, I saw your DC shooting optical death daggers your way as you ambled up to the podium. Bitch. I never liked her. What’s up with that?’
Julia smiled and sipped at her iced tea. ‘Your guess is as good as mine. She’s none too happy I’m trying this, that’s for sure. She’s blaming her anger on the fact that I’m about three months behind on my dispos.’
‘Try more like six. I’ve seen your office floor. Or rather, I should say, I haven’t seen your office floor.’
‘Dispos are the least of my worries now.’
‘True,’ Day said as she wiped an alcohol pad over the disposable forkshe’d just ripped out of a sealed plastic baggie. ‘As a fellow self-professed workaholic, I have to say I’m beginning to worry about you, though. All you’re doing, all the time, is this case, girlfriend. I’d almost forgotten what you looked like, it’s been so long since we lunched. At least now I can turn on my TV at night and remind myself, should I forget again.’ Through a bite of her burger that she held in hands wrapped up like a prizefighter in napkins, she asked, ‘Doesn’t that boyfriend of yours actually do anything besides stand up and take all the credit?’
The press had pounced once again after court and Rick had held another impromptu press conference, this one downstairs in the lobby. For maybe a moment or two this morning – when Julia had first stepped out beside him into a crowd of cameras that no longer dismissed her – the attention was exciting. She thought about Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Nora mixing Bloody Marys poolside, proudly pointing their celery sticks at Jimmy’s portable Sony Watchman while their neighbors asked them to turn up the volume. But the initial excitement quickly faded, replaced by an uncomfortable, guilty sort of feeling that told her the limelight was just not for her. At least, not on this case. As the questions started up, she quickly fell away from the crowd that followed Rick around like he was the Pied Piper, ducking into a staircase off the judge’s back hallway. Lat and Brill apparently had the same idea; she saw them drive off a few minutes later as she made her way back to the Graham Building.
‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ Julia said. ‘At least, I don’t think he is, and that’s the price of being second seat on a murder, I guess. I get all the pre-files and the legwork. It’s fine. I learned a lot.’
‘Nice speech. Tell me, is Lover gonna let you actually do anything at trial? Like speak?’
The thing about Day that Julia both admired and feared was that she always, always said what she thought – even if you didn’t like it, and even if she knew you weren’t gonna like it when she said it. You got what you saw with Dayanara. And like a lot of pit prosecutors – resentful, perhaps, of his revered reputation and much larger paycheck, and maybe put off by what they saw as arrogance and pomposity – Day didn’t like Rick Bellido. Tall tales of skirt chasing – around the office, courthouse and PD water coolers – didn’t help either. Then there was the rumor that he’d picked out the trial outfits of a senior Division Chief who he’d once tapped to try a Major Crimes murder with him – right down to the shade of her lipstickand the height of her heels. ‘If you let him so much as suggest the color earrings for you, Julia, I’ll hurt you. So help me,’ Day finished, menacingly shaking a forked fry at her, ‘you’ll go naked into that courtroom when my scissors find you.’
‘Down, Fido. That’s not ever gonna happen. I can assure you that dressing me has not come up. Undressing me, maybe …’ she laughed.
Day held up her hands. ‘TMI. Too much information. Yeuch.’
‘Listen, I don’t know what he’ll let me do at trial,’ Julia continued, ‘but as the speech is supposed to go, “I’m just grateful for the opportunity to be here.” And stop calling him Lover; you’re gonna slip. No one knows anything about that. Please. I was desperate to talk and you were sworn to secrecy.’
‘Trust me, he’d be flattered to be known as your lover, honey. You make stunning arm candy. Men who nab young, beautiful girlfriends when they’re in the middle of a mid-life like to show them off. And while I hate to burst your bubble, don’t think that conclusion hasn’t already been drawn in everybody else’s mind after today.’
‘Maybe,’ Julia said, thoughtfully crunching on an onion ring. ‘But I’m certainly not going to confirm it. I want my reputation made on this case and that’s it. So make that young, beautiful and smart arm candy.’
‘I hate to break it to you, honey, but I didn’t include smart in the definition for a reason. Not because you aren’t, but because intelligence is not required for the job and is generally discouraged.’
‘Thanks,’ Julia said, raising an eyebrow.
‘You’re welcome. And that onion’s gonna give you bad breath. You never eat that stuff once you finally get yourself a man. Didn’t your momma ever tell you that?’ This time she pulled floss and a small bottle of Listerine out of her purse and pushed them across the table. ‘Thank me when the kids are born.’
‘You’re too much.’
‘Speaking of bearing children for someone, your detective’s hot. Not the lawn patch. The rebel. And he’s Italian. My favorite food. Yum.’
Julia frowned and crunched another onion ring. ‘I’ll be sure to mention that to him.’
‘Please do. And don’t forget to credit the author.’ There was a slight pause before Day asked, ‘How does it feel to be on a death case? Are you okay with it? Pretty heavy shit.’
‘No. Yes. I’m not sure,’ Julia replied softly as the conversation subtly changed direction. ‘I didn’t know that was coming today, Day, so I can’t answer that question right now.’ She kept expecting things to be either black or white in the courtroom, like they’d always been. For her feelings to be as sure and as unwavering as they’d once seemed to be …
Your client scores to twenty months state prison; take the plea or go to trial – that’s your choice.
This is the law, right here in the statute, and this is what the law means, right here in the case. I didn’t write it and I didn’t interpret it, but you broke it and now here’s the penalty – conveniently spelled out for you, right here in the sentencing guidelines.
Now the lines seemed to be dulling, the sharp colors that demarked the all-important boundaries of order were fading, and all she could see today was gray – a defense attorney’s favorite color – and it was making her uneasy.
‘As probably the only registered Democrat in this county,’ Day said, ‘I can tell you that I’m not a proponent of the death penalty. But your defendant, Julia, is a damn freak. Gives me the creeps just looking at him, the way he looked in court today. He’s got nothing – no emotion whatsoever. And those eyes of his – they’re like what you’d see on a horror-movie poster hanging outside the theater. Dead eyes. When the judge started talking about the things he did to those kids …’ she said with a shudder as she finished off the last bite of burger. ‘Well, you’re not gonna have any problem finding twelve people to vote for the needle. So be prepared, is all I’m saying.’
Julia nibbled on her straw but said nothing. A Channel Ten news truck pulled into the crowded parking lot. She recognized one of the three faces that stepped out as a reporter from court and she turned her head away from the window. ‘Time to go,’ she said to Day.
‘Better prepare yourself for that, too,’ Dayanara said, slipping on her sunglasses and nodding in the direction of the trio as they came in and joined the long line at the counter. ‘I have a feeling you just might make the big time after all with this one. Forget Lover – you may need to hire a stylist to dress you.’
‘I’ll take that under advisement,’ Julia whispered, her head bowed, as the two of them ducked out the back door of the restaurant.