The court room was packed with spectators and members of the press, all anxiously awaiting the jury’s verdict. It had been two days since Judge Wynn gave the jurors their instructions and sent them to their task.
“Have you reached a verdict?” Judge Wynn said.
“Yes your honor, we have.”
The jury foreperson said as she stood and handed their verdict to the bailiff, who in turn handed it to the Judge. The Judge looked it over carefully and then looked briefly in the direction of the prosecutors.
“Will the defendant please rise.” Roland Ferguson stood up and Marcus stood with him. “On the first count of the indictment, murder in the first degree, how do you find?”
“We find the defendant, not guilty.”
The court room erupted, the judge banged his gavel. “On the second count of the indictment, murder in the first degree, how do you find?”
“We find the defendant, not guilty.”
Roland Ferguson looked at Marcus and shook his hand. “Thank you, Marcus. You did a fine job, an excellent job. I am forever in your debt.”
Ferguson was immediately surrounded by supporters and reporters. As the crowd began to sweep him out of the court room, he turned back to Marcus and said, “I'm having a little get together tonight. Drop by around nine and we'll talk then.”
“I'll see you then,” Marcus replied as he gathered his materials together.
Izella Hawkins walked over to him with her hand extended.
“Congratulations, Marcus,” Izella said.
“Thank you, Izella.”
“You shot holes in our whole case. Excuse me, what am I saying. Our theory, designed to fit the facts.”
“Izella, you know that all I did was add reasonable doubt.”
“No, Marcus, it's not that simple. You controlled the jury from the word go. Had them eating out of your hand. Their advocate, huh,” Izella rolled her eyes. “I'll have to use that one on my next case. Well enjoy the moment. You deserve it. You worked hard for it,” Izella said as she walked out of the court room. “Call me sometime, we'll do lunch. And, Marcus.”
“Yes, Izella.”
“You have fun talking to the reporters. You seem to have a flair for it,” Izella smiled a fake smile. She hated talking to reporters, and losing would only make it worst.
“You first,” Marcus said, as he motioned toward the door.
At nine thirty that evening, Marcus arrived at Ferguson's house. As soon as he entered the room it exploded in applause. As he made his way around the room, people rushed at Marcus to shake his hand.
“Congratulations!”
Others patted him on the back, “Nicely done!”
Once the crowd of well wishers faded, he made his way to the bar and ordered a drink.
“Congratulations, Mr. Douglas,” the bartender said. “What will you have?”
“Hennessy neat,” he replied and looked around for Ferguson. I do not want to be here, Marcus thought. But he knew why he was there. He had just won his first high profile media case. And here before him was a room full of potential clients. So he knew it wouldn't be his last. Still, Marcus had other things on his mind.
It had been a little more than a year since he and Randa separated and he embarked on his adventure with Yvonne Haggler. His divorce had proved to be a long process and had turned downright ugly at times. The sticking point was money. His winning this trial would only add fuel to Randa's already burning desire for more money. And now she wanted to talk. Until that day, Randa had resisted all his attempts to talk. But when he got home he was met by her voice when he checked his voice mail.
“Marcus, this is Randa. I know you're surprised to hear my voice. But I just wanted to say congratulations on winning your case. You probably won't believe this but I'm proud of you. And I … now I don't know what to say. Funny, huh? The way we used to be able to talk about anything. Now look at me. Well, I've been thinking— you know, about the way I've been acting. And I think maybe you and I just need to sit down and work this whole thing out together. If you want to talk you can reach me at 678 555-7931. I hope you call me, Marcus.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Douglas,” Connie Talbert, Ferguson's assistant said bringing Marcus out of his trance.
“Hello, Connie.”
“Mr. Ferguson would like to see you in his study, when you get a chance. And by the way,” Connie extended her hand. “Congratulations. We're all very pleased with the work you've done for us.”
“Thank you, Connie. I appreciate that,” Marcus said as he finished his drink. “Where can I find his study?”
“It's right over there,” Connie said and pointed to a door on the other side of the room. “But if you'll follow me, I'll take you to him.” Connie extended her arm.
“Well, thank you, ma’am. It would be an honor to be escorted by a beautiful lady,” Marcus said, as he locked his arm in hers. They weaved through the crowd, stopping several times to make small talk with the other guests. Once they reached the study, Connie knocked twice, opened the door, and showed Marcus in, closing the door behind her. Roland was on the phone, but waved Marcus on and gestured for him to have a seat.
“You were saying, Ms. Dent,” Roland said smiling a very satisfied smile as he continued his conversation.
Marcus sat down thinking, Listen to him. His wife is dead and he's moved on with his life. He wondered why he couldn’t do the same. Move on with my life. Maybe once the divorce was over it would be easier. But now, with almost daily reminders, with their lawyers going back and forth, the pain of his separation still ate at him like a fresh wound. He thought about Randa and how they were together. They did just about everything together. People called them the poster children for the perfect relationship. Randa was a wonderful woman. She was beautiful, intelligent and had so much energy. She was always doing something to help somebody. She volunteered at a retirement home a couple days a week and had a teenage girl she was mentoring. They were very happy together. Marcus considered Randa to be his best friend. They had so much in common and would spend hours together just talking. That's the hardest part of dealing with this. Sure he loved her, but they were so close that Marcus felt like he had lost the best part of himself. But she wasn't right. He saw so much in her, but he only saw what he wanted to see. Marcus had put her on a very high pedestal. So high that she was bound to fall off.
The day started out like any other. The alarm went off, and they made love to each other, just like they did every morning. They showered together and then Randa cooked breakfast while Marcus got ready to go to the office. Randa mentioned that she might go shopping with her girlfriend. They ate breakfast and he left for the office, just like they did every morning. Marcus had been working at home the night before, getting ready for a meeting with a client that he had that afternoon and he left the papers at home. He called Randa to see if she could bring him the papers and they could have lunch together. But there was no answer. Marcus needed those papers, so he went home to get them. When he got home her Benz was in the driveway, so Marcus simply figured that her girlfriend came and picked her up and they had gone shopping. He went inside and called her name a few times, but she didn't answer. He went in the den to get his papers, but couldn't find them. Marcus turned on the computer so he could print them. Once they had printed he picked up the papers, then he thought he heard a noise. Marcus stood still for a second, but didn't hear anything. He turned off the computer and headed for the door. He was out of the house and was just about to close the door when he heard the noise again. He turned around and walked up the steps straight to the bedroom and opened the door. There she was, in bed with another man. Marcus stood there, watching. He couldn't move. He walked outside and sat down on the steps. He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there when he heard the door open and close and open again. When he looked up Randa was standing in front of him.
She asked him if he had been in the house. Marcus just looked at her, unable to speak. Once Randa got tired of Marcus staring at her not saying anything, she went back in the house. The two of them came out got in the Benz he paid for, and left.
While Randa was gone Marcus thought about all the things he would say to her.
How could you?
Who is he?
How long has this been going on?
But when she came back he couldn't say anything. She tried to explain that this was the first time. She told him how sorry she was, and she promised Marcus that if he forgave her it would never happen again. Still, he couldn't say a word. He had thought of a hundred things to say but he was so mad, the words just wouldn't come out. After a while he just got up and left.
“Well, Paula, we'll just have to see that you get one of those.” Roland laughed. “I have to go now, my lawyer is here. - - - No, no, there's no trouble, Paula. Just some things we need to go over. - - - We'll get together soon, Ms. Dent.” Roland hung up the phone and turned his attention to Marcus. “Sorry, Marcus,” Roland said, coming around his desk to shake his hand.
“No need to apologize, Mr. Ferguson.”
“Roland, please, call me Roland. I thought it best to maintain a certain level of professionalism during the trial. You understand. No need to be so formal now.” Ferguson starting walking toward the bar in the corner of his study. “Drink?”
“Hennessy neat.”
“I thought we might have a glass of champagne together,” he said as Marcus followed him to the bar.
“That'll be fine, sir.”
Roland uncorked the bottle, filled two glasses, and handed one to Marcus. “Here's to you, Marcus. Congratulations on a job well done.”
“Thank you. And congratulations to you.”
“Me? I didn't do anything. I just sat there and tried to look innocent. You did all the work. I like the way you handle things. It made me mad at first, I thought about firing you a numbers of times. But see that you knew what you were doing. I might be interested in your firm doing some more work for me.”
“Thank you,” Marcus said, somewhat surprised. He knew that Roland had a team of lawyers working for him. “I'm sure my staff can handle any of your needs.”
“If they have the same dedication that you do, I'm sure they will. You know that was one of the first things that impressed me about you, Marcus.”
“What's that?”
“That you own your law firm and you still practice law. I know many people who own law firms and none of them have cracked a law book a years,” Roland said, draining his glass. “But we'll talk about all that some other time. Right now, there's a party going on and you're the guest of honor. So enjoy the party.”
Marcus finished his champagne and followed Roland out of the study to rejoin his guests. Once again the room erupted in applause.
For the next two hours, Marcus made his way around the room. He heard the word congratulations so many times he felt like slapping the next one who said it. But that would be bad for business. So, he talked about the high points of the case and his law firm. There were even a few ladies who inquired about his marital status. A conversation he had little interest in having. The first chance he got, Marcus headed for the door.