by Laura Snider
“Not this again,” George said with a groan.
“No, seriously. Ashley is Petrovsky’s attorney. She could have easily gotten Petrovsky’s fingerprints. And she represented Von Reich. She’s the common thread. Don’t you think?”
“I see your point. It makes sense to look into it. But,” George said, catching Katie’s eye, “do not approach that attorney.” His gaze shifted to the clock mounted on the wall. He started, like he was just realizing that time had gotten away from him. “I’ve got a meeting with the chief in a few minutes. I won’t drag you with me so long as you can promise me one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You won’t confront Ashley Montgomery.”
“Deal.” Katie extended her hand to shake.
George took her hand and shook it, studying her through narrowed eyes.
Damn it, Katie thought. She’d folded too quickly. Now he was suspicious.
“You are not to say a single word to that defense attorney. Do you understand me?”
“I understand.”
“You are far too focused on her. She isn’t your job. Your concentration should be on solving Von Reich’s murder. Focus on the current. Not the past.”
“I already said that I understand.” Besides, Ashley was part of the investigation. She wouldn’t approach her, but she could watch her.
“Good,” George said, a smile forming on his lips.
“What?”
“I like it when you agree with me.”
Katie rolled her eyes and made a shooing motion. “Now go. I’ve got work to do.”
George saluted and turned on his heel. She watched him until he had disappeared down the stairwell. The hallway had grown silent. There were only a few idlers left. Everyone else must have already decided the show was over and gone home.
Katie waited a few additional minutes, then peeked inside the courtroom. Ashley was in the same place, sitting alone at the defense table.
That’s odd, Katie thought. Why hadn’t Ashley moved? What was she doing? It was abnormal. Even unnatural.
She wondered where Ashley was the night of Von Reich’s murder. Ashley was probably sadistic enough to commit the crime. The woman had no soul. But did she have motive? That was the question that Katie needed answered.
Katie sat at one of the evenly spaced benches lining the hallway. One that had a clear view of the courtroom doors. She’d wait for Ashley to leave. When she did, Katie would follow. At a safe distance, of course. She wouldn’t say anything to the defense attorney. She had made a promise to George. And Katie never broke promises.
8
Ashley
December 10th – 4:00 p.m.
Ashley didn’t stand, and she didn’t look at the gallery behind her. Not until well after the sounds of the crowd died down. Even then, she waited a full ten minutes until she finally allowed herself to relax. She sighed and slouched in her seat.
That was horrible, she thought. But it was over. She’d never have to deal with Victor Petrovsky again. At least not until… She shook her head, dispelling the thought. She couldn’t consider the next time.
“Still here?”
Ashley shot to her feet, spinning to face the speaker. Tom stood at the back of the courtroom, casually leaning against the wall. He no longer wore his jailer’s uniform. He’d changed into jeans and a black zip-up hooded sweatshirt with “Misfits” written in the upper left corner. He looked effortlessly cool, like a rock star on vacation.
Ashley’s shoulders relaxed, but not completely. She didn’t know how he’d snuck in without her hearing him. “You scared me.”
“My apologies.” He paused, pursing his lips. “My shift has ended, and I saw you hadn’t left yet.”
Ashley’s gaze shifted to the cameras mounted in the corners of the courtroom. She knew the judges could see the live feed in their chambers, but she supposed it made sense that the sheriff’s office, and by extension, the jail, had access to the footage as well. A cold fear surged through her veins. She didn’t like that so many people could see her, track her, at any given moment. All they had to do was log in to the courthouse security system.
Ashley stood and slid her computer into its bag.
“I thought I could walk you to your office or your car.” Tom paused. “Or wherever.”
“Like a bodyguard?”
Tom chuckled. “Sorta. I guess.”
Ashley looked down at her bag for a long moment before slinging it over her shoulder. She tried to think of a legitimate reason to refuse, but nothing came to mind. It was 4:00, and she was supposed to meet a client at her office at 4:30. She couldn’t delay much longer, and she was more than a little concerned about those left milling around outside the courthouse.
“Sure,” Ashley said. “But let’s not make a habit of it. Okay?”
She didn’t want her clients thinking that she was fraternizing with the enemy. They had to know that she was on their side, no matter what. It was lonely on the wrong end of the criminal justice system. She was supposed to be their champion, their defender. She was one of the few that stood at their side. She didn’t want to make them feel more alone.
“Embarrassed to be seen with me?” There was humor in Tom’s voice. He wasn’t the type of person who others avoided. And he knew it.
Ashley grunted, her mood darkening. He wouldn’t be joking like that later. Not after he’d received several phone calls from angry townspeople demanding to know why he had been with her. Because, didn’t he know that she hangs out with sex offenders and murderers? She was practically one of them.
“Something like that,” she said.
Tom opened the door for her, and they stepped out into the hallway. It was still. Silent. Not a soul in sight. Ashley released a breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“Someone needs to walk with you, make sure you’re safe. Especially considering what Erica did after the Von Reich verdict. And now with his murder…” His voice trailed off.
Ashley’s insides stilled. “I don’t want to talk about Erica or the things she did in the past.”
“She shouldn’t have threatened you.”
Ashley remembered it all too well. It had happened close to a year ago. Erica and some of her cronies, the same group of mean girls that she’d run around with in high school, had left a dead opossum in front of her office with a sign that read, Ashley Montgomery. The deadest lawyer in town.
It hadn’t bothered Ashley all that much at first, because the opossum was clearly roadkill. Someone had scraped it off the side of the road and left it for her to find. The grammar was even a little funny. Deadest. Was that even a word?
That changed the next day when she found the rat. It was in the waiting room of her office. Its sign said, Watch your back. This time the grammar was correct, and the rat’s feet and tail were missing. She didn’t know if the mutilation occurred pre- or postmortem, but it didn’t matter. Either way, the person had a screw loose.
That wasn’t the last threat she’d received, but it still stuck with her. Of course, the cops didn’t care about those crimes. But then again, Ashley hadn’t expected that they would. Erica was the golden girl of Brine, Ashley the black sheep. It didn’t matter that Erica had admitted to Ashley’s face, through fits of giggles, of course, that she’d put her friends up to it. The rat was from a trap in her basement. The opossum came from a hit-and-run near her house.
Tom was still talking when Ashley shook off the bad memories. She wasn’t sure how much she had missed while deep in thought, but he was still on the Von Reich acquittal, so it couldn’t have been all that much.
“I mean, yes, it was a big deal when Von Reich was acquitted.” They made their way down the stairs and toward the front door of the courthouse. “I mean, he did kill his wife after all.”
“The jury found him not guilty, remember?”
Tom waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah. In the same way OJ Simpson was innocent.”
Ashley opene
d her mouth to protest, but Tom was right. A “not guilty” verdict was not the same thing as actual innocence. And everyone, including Ashley, knew Von Reich was no innocent man.
“I know Erica was Amy Von Reich’s friend,” Tom continued, “but that was no excuse for her behavior.”
Then or now? Ashley wondered. Because she knew that the letter she had received was from her. You’re next. It was disturbing on its face, but it was even more bone chilling now that Ashley had a very real suspicion that Erica had something to do with Von Reich’s trip to the morgue.
They stepped out into a bright winter afternoon. The sun reflected off the snow, momentarily blinding Ashley. She blinked several times, then looked around and hissed through her teeth.
“Shit,” Tom whispered.
People filled the courthouse courtyard. Far more than could have fit inside the courtroom. Many held signs limply in their hands. They were waiting for someone. For her. The mass of people was chattering, momentarily oblivious to her presence. Then someone noticed Ashley, and an unsettling silence rippled from the front to the back of the group as they all began to turn and face the courthouse doors.
Expressions darkened, and signs rose into the air. Ashley’s gaze darted from sign to sign, taking in their contents. Get out of our town, one read. Save the children and lock up Ashley Montgomery, read another. Ashley tried to force herself not to read further, but she couldn’t overcome the desire to know. Public Defender; Public Pretender! and Fuck the Defense.
“Like what you see?” shouted a familiar voice from the crowd.
Ashley followed the sound to see Erica Elsberry front and center. Her lips were twisted into a sneer. It was an all-too-familiar expression. Gone was the weepy woman from the courtroom. Here was the Erica that Ashley had known since they were children.
Ashley swallowed hard. A scream of indignation clawed its way up her throat. She fought to retain control of herself. She would not break down in front of this crowd. Because, what the literal fuck. She hadn’t done anything to these people. And she’d grown up in this town. How could they tell her to “get out”?
Tom placed a steady hand on Ashley’s shoulder. She wanted to melt into him. To disappear. She hadn’t ever needed the assistance of a man. She’d never been the type of girl to desire knights in shining armor. But at that moment, she was thankful for Tom’s presence. She couldn’t face the crowd on her own.
“Seriously, Erica,” Tom said. His forehead puckered. “This isn’t cool.”
Erica’s eyes widened in shock. “Wha…” She trailed off. A moment passed, and then she opened her mouth to speak again. “Tom, why are you with her? She is practically a rapist and a murderer.”
Bingo, Ashley thought. She’d known he’d hear those words sometime soon. She just didn’t think Tom would face the accusations in her presence.
She could defend herself, but there was no point in explaining to these people that she abhorred her clients’ crimes as well, but their crimes did not make them. Their crimes were decisions they made at a specific moment in time when under extreme emotional distress. Often, after given time to cool down and think about it, they were extremely regretful. Victor was an exception to the rule, but nothing was absolute.
Erica turned to the crowd and threw a fist in the air. “She needs to get out of our town. Am I right?”
“Yeah!” the crowd shouted.
“Get out of town! Get out of town!” Erica pumped her fist in the air. Up and down with each cruel word. The crowd joined in, chanting along with her while thrusting their signs higher in the air. “Get out of town! Get out of town!”
The people were beginning to surge forward, their expressions growing wilder. Their protest was quickly morphing into a mob. Ashley looked to her left, then to her right. She was surrounded. There was no path from the courthouse to her office. There was no way out.
Then, from behind her, Ashley heard the shrill sound of a whistle. She spun, expecting to see more protesters crowding in. Instead, she saw Katie Mickey.
Ashley groaned inwardly. Officer Self-Righteous herself. Not good. Katie probably hated Ashley more than Erica did. She would happily build the pyre while the crowd tied her up and lit a match.
Katie shouted something, but Ashley couldn’t make out the words over the roar of the crowd. But something Katie had said had caused the chanting to die down. Katie blew her whistle again, and the masses fell into a fitful quiet.
“Disperse now!” Katie shouted. “Or you will be arrested for unlawful gathering and disorderly conduct.”
Ashley’s eyebrows shot up. She’s helping me. But why? She knew the officer felt no kinship toward her. So it had to be something else. Maybe Katie was just that much of a do-gooder.
Nobody in the mob moved. Katie stepped in front of Ashley. “I mean it.” She pulled out her taser and displayed it to the crowd. “You have five minutes to get out of here, or I start tasing and arresting.”
Several other officers appeared, pushing their way through the crowd. George Thomanson and Chief Carmichael reached Ashley, Katie, and Tom first.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Montgomery,” Chief Carmichael said with a nod. He was so calm that it was almost unnerving.
Ashley’s eyes darted around the crowd of people. “I’m not sure I would call it good.”
“Everything is under control.”
Ashley forced back a hysterical laugh. He called this, surrounded by hundreds of angry protesters, “under control.” At best, they had one officer for every twenty people. Ashley didn’t know a lot about mobs, but she did know that they acted irrationally. They would not easily yield to authority.
“Katie, you and Tom escort Ms. Montgomery back to her office,” Chief Carmichael said.
Katie took a small step backward and pointed a finger toward her chest. “Me?”
Chief Carmichael cocked an eyebrow. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“No problem,” Katie said, taking her position to Ashley’s right while Tom remained to her left.
Officer Thomanson and Chief Carmichael turned and motioned toward the remaining officers. Together, they forced the crowd to separate, creating a walkway for Ashley, Tom, and Katie. The defense attorney, jailer, and officer began to advance toward Ashley’s office. Random members of the mob surged forward as they passed, reaching toward Ashley, but Katie was quick to knock them back.
It was slow going, but eventually, they made their way across the street to Ashley’s office. The door was locked. Ashley had to fish around in her bag to find her key.
“Hurry it up,” Katie said. She glanced nervously over her shoulder.
“I am.” Ashley thrust her key in the door and pushed it open with a whoosh. Both Tom and Katie followed her inside.
Jacob came out of the back room, carrying a donut. His eyes were shifty, nervous. “Oh. It’s you,” he said as he swiped his forehead with an antique-looking embroidered handkerchief. “Your four-thirty appointment called and cancelled. What’s going on out there?”
“Petrovsky,” was all Ashley said.
“Keep the door locked,” Katie said. “Call the police department before you leave, and someone will escort you home.”
Ashley quirked an eyebrow.
Katie sighed. “Don’t get sassy, Ashley. I know you don’t like me. I don’t like you either. But this is for your safety.”
“Do you plan to be my personal bodyguard for the foreseeable future?”
Katie groaned. “You’re insufferable.”
Tom patted Katie on the shoulder and smiled at Ashley. “We’ll be just outside. Let us know when you are ready to go. You’ve got my cell phone number?”
Ashley shook her head. Tom went over to the nearby desk and scrawled his number on a Post-it pad.
“Better add mine too,” Katie grumbled. She took the pen from Tom and wrote her number below his.
Tom stepped outside first, and Katie moved to follow him.
“Why are you helping me?” Ashley ask
ed.
Katie froze. Her fingers lingered on the doorknob, itching to get out. She stood there for a long moment, and Ashley thought she wouldn’t answer. Then finally, she spoke in just above a whisper.
“Because it’s my job. I took an oath. I don’t always like my assignments. Especially this one. But I do what I have to.”
“Funny,” Ashley said, “that’s what I’ve been trying to explain to you about my job.”
9
Katie
December 10th – 5:00 p.m.
Katie shoved the door to the Public Defender’s Office open and stepped out into the cold. The wind had died down and the sun was just beginning to set. Katie’s mind reeled with Ashley’s last comment. How could she compare criminal defense to law enforcement? Katie saved lives, helped people. Ashley did the opposite.
Katie remembered the first defense attorney she’d ever met. She was sixteen at the time, and his name was Arthur Frankfort. He was a middle-aged man in an expensive suit and perfectly manicured nails. He looked and even smelled like money, with his precise tailoring and French cologne.
Arthur introduced himself to her and asked if they could speak privately.
Hello, Katie, he had said.
Hi.
Do you know why I’m here?
Yes. Someone said Daddy stole their money. You are his attorney.
Yes. The prosecution claims that he is running a Ponzi scheme. Do you know what that means?
That he stole people’s money.
In a roundabout way, yes. And I need your help. Can you help your dad?
Yes. What do I need to do?
You need to tell the prosecutor that your mother inherited a lot of money from a family member.
But that’s not true, is it?
He tapped his nose with his index finger. It’s the truth if you believe it’s the truth.