Burden of Truth (Cass Leary Legal Thriller Series Book 1)

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Burden of Truth (Cass Leary Legal Thriller Series Book 1) Page 3

by Robin James


  I walked out to meet him, peering over the side of the dock. Joe had constructed a live well using chicken wire and two-by-fours. It was empty now, which meant he hadn’t been standing out here very long. He reeled his line in.

  “I take it you’ve already heard,” I said, crossing my arms. Late June and it was above eighty even with the sun setting.

  Joe turned to me. He was just a year and a day older than me at thirty-five. He had thick, light-brown hair he wore cropped close to his head. He rarely smiled, but I could always read his emotions from those deep-set brown eyes that cut right through me. Joey had devastating good looks. Rugged, well-muscled. And his utter lack of interest in it made him that much more irresistible to the women of Delphi. Today, he wore his typical uniform: a plain white t-shirt, faded, loose-fitting jeans, and tan work boots.

  He was a house painter by trade, but Joe Leary Jr. made a small fortune doing odd jobs around town. He could fix anything ... build anything with his hands. He’d also been the one person in my life I knew I could depend on. My leaving had hurt him the most, though it would kill him to say so.

  Joe cocked his head to the side. “I didn’t come here to get in your business.”

  This got a full-throated laugh out of me, loud enough to scare away a pair of mallards a few yards to the left of us.

  “Come on,” I said, turning. “It’s been a long damn day and I need a glass of wine. There’s probably a beer in the fridge if you didn’t already drink it all.”

  The dock creaked beneath my feet as we made our way back up to the house. Joe didn’t come in. He took a seat on the wooden porch swing at the back of the house. I tossed my suit jacket over a chair on the way to the kitchen. I took my time pouring a glass of Riesling for myself then grabbed a Bud for Joey. Hiking up my skirt, I took the seat next to him as he started to swing.

  “Awful thing,” he said, peeling at the label on his beer bottle. “Em said they found his body in the middle of Shamrock Park.”

  I nodded. There was no preamble with Joe and me. Even after ten years of living apart, we still had a sort of shorthand to our conversations. It drove Joe’s first wife crazy. His second, Katy, hadn’t been around me enough to get there yet.

  “What else does Emma know about it?” I asked, wincing. Emma was Joe’s oldest daughter. He’d been just eighteen when she was born. Her mother, Josie, was from the affluent, west side of town. She’d been the homecoming queen, class president, town darling until the night she soiled herself and screwed Eastlake trash, Joey Leary. At least, that’s the story everyone liked to tell that wasn’t us. Six months ago, Emma moved out of her mother’s place and in with Joey.

  “Her phone’s been blowing up all day,” Joe said. “Started out people said it was some kind of satanic ritual with a pentagram and the body all carved up. Then they said Coach D’s head was blown off with a shotgun.”

  “Jesus.” I took another sip of my wine. I had to be careful what I said. The truth was, Larry Drazdowski was stabbed once in the kidney and bled to death. That was awful enough, but the rest of these rumors wouldn’t do my case any good.

  “Did you know him?” I asked. “I didn’t really. I was what ... in ninth grade when the high school hired him? Sports weren’t my thing.”

  “Mine either,” Joe said, downing his beer. Of course I read the irony in his words. My brother was actually a gifted athlete. He could have excelled at nearly any sport he chose. In another time, another place, maybe he was even good enough to get a baseball scholarship to the University of Michigan or somewhere far away from here. But Joe and I didn’t have the luxury of extracurricular activities growing up. By the time we both hit our teens, we had to work to keep the lights on and food on the table for my younger siblings.

  “You really going to do this?” he asked. There was no judgment in his tone. Not yet. But I knew my brother well enough to know he was really saying you know you really shouldn’t do this.

  “I don’t know, Joe. That’s the God’s honest truth right now. I’m mostly just trying to keep my head above water just like everybody else.”

  “Let somebody else take Aubrey Ames’s case,” he said. I squeezed my eyes shut and exhaled.

  “Yeah? Who?”

  Joe set his beer on the ground. “Anyone, Cass. Literally anyone. I’m telling you. Don’t touch this one.”

  “I’m not afraid,” I said.

  “You just got back,” he said. “I wish I could tell you things have changed around here since you left but you know they haven’t. People still judge us by our last names.”

  I raised a brow. “Really? You think that’s all they judge us by. Come on, Joe. Dad’s been the town drunk since before we were born. He’s got to own that. I don’t. Matty’s no better. He’s thirty years old and can’t hold a job. I’ve seen where they live. And Vangie ... well ... who knows. Maybe she’s the smartest one of all of us after all. Have you heard from her lately?”

  He looked down, his silence giving me my answer.

  “If we worried about what everyone else thought about us, we’d never have the strength to get out of bed on any given day,” I said. “But what if it were me. Or you? Tell me. If you’d been falsely accused of killing somebody, you think anyone would believe you?”

  “Is she?” Joe asked. “Is she innocent, Cass? You sure about that?”

  “It’s a figure of speech,” I said. “She’s entitled to a defense lawyer. My name got drawn. That’s it.”

  Joe shook his head and pulled himself off the bench. It swayed wildly backward without his weight to keep it straight. I dug my heels into the ground to stop it.

  “You just got back, Cass,” he said again. “They can’t force you to represent someone. I know that much.”

  “And the town can’t force me not to represent someone, Joey. In my opinion, that’s even worse. I don’t care what they think. I can’t. This is my job now.”

  He hopped off the porch and started walking back toward the lake. I hated when he got like this. Just like our dad. He’d leave in the middle of an argument I was winning. And I’d always chase him down and keep going until I felt like I was losing. I went after him.

  “What are you afraid of?” I asked him, putting a light hand on his back. Joe stiffened. Then he picked up his pole and cast another line.

  “They’re going to come after you again if you do this,” he said. “It’s not about Aubrey Ames. I know her too. She’s just a skinny little kid. She was on Emma’s cheerleading squad when she was a senior. I’ve driven the two of them to get coneys and ice cream after practice. I can’t wrap my mind around it and I know more than anybody how this goes if the people around here think she did it.”

  “You don’t, do you?” I said it more as a statement than a question.

  His shoulders dropped as he let out a sigh. “She’s just a kid,” he said. “She can’t weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet.”

  “Hmm. Well, it’s nice to know somebody around here has an open mind.”

  Joe put the pole back in the holster. “I don’t care what they think, Cass. Not about me. I don’t even care what they think about you. But you do. It’s why you left Delphi in the first place.”

  So there it was. I saw the fear in my brother’s eyes plainly. It snaked its way around my heart and squeezed so hard I could barely breathe.

  I went up on my tiptoes and kissed my brother’s cheek. “Is that your way of telling me you missed me?”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’ve never told me why.”

  “Why I left?” I asked, knowing full well that wasn’t what he meant.

  “Why you came back,” he answered, not letting me off the hook any more than the fish he was trying to catch.

  In the three months since I left Chicago, it’s the first time Joe had even asked. I knew he figured I’d tell him in my own good time, except I hadn’t. I didn’t know how. A shiver went through me as I remembered bits of that last day again.

  “I heard rumors they
were about to disbar you in Illinois,” he said.

  “No,” I answered. “That’s not true. It’s just ... the big firm life just wasn’t for me anymore. That’s all.”

  I couldn’t tell him the truth. I’d gotten in over my head with one of the firm’s most lucrative clients. I’d made a series of decisions that could have landed me in jail, the morgue, or witness protection. No, I couldn’t tell him any of that. But I wouldn’t lie to him either.

  “Fine. I’m worried the heat from this murder case is going to be too much for you. I’m worried you’re going to leave again.”

  I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that came out of me. “Well, the good news is, I’ve got nowhere else to go, Joe. I’m making just about enough to pay the tax lien on this property and for my malpractice insurance. Court appointments, even murder cases, only pay about fifty bucks an hour. I have a grand sum total of one paying client and three other cases I took on contingency. It’s going to take me about fifty grand to fix up this dump even with you doing a ton of it like you offered. And I know damn well that Dad, and Matty, are pissed Gramps left this place to me instead of them. Damned if I know why he did!”

  “Isn’t it obvious!” Joe yelled. “He knew you were the one who had your shit together.” His eyes twinkled in the moonlight and he let out a great big belly laugh. It struck me speechless for a half a second before I laughed with him. It was enough to tell me we were done arguing for now.

  “Come on,” I said, looping my arm through his. “The mosquitoes are coming out and I need a good night’s sleep if I’m going to have to face all those torches and pitchforks in the morning.”

  Joe grumbled, but he walked up the dock with me. In spite of it all, I missed him. I missed this. And I knew no matter what else happened, Joey was still the one person in my life I could count on.

  Chapter 5

  On Tuesday morning, murmurs rumbled behind me in the courtroom when I entered my appearance for Aubrey Ames on the record. “Cassiopeia Leary on behalf of the defendant.” There were a few snickers as well and I heard my last name whispered more than once. It made me stand taller.

  Aubrey stood beside me, a full two inches shorter than my five foot three. Still shackled and wearing her orange jumpsuit, Aubrey barely got the words “not guilty” out when Judge Colton asked how she pleaded She needed to do better. She was on trial every second from here on out.

  The benches were filled with former team members from Coach Larry Drazdowski’s eight state championships and more. Some were in their mid-thirties, closer to my age. Some looked just out of high school. All of them wore their green-and-gray varsity letter jackets in solidarity.

  At the table near the empty jury box, assistant prosecutor, Jack LaForge, puffed out his chest as the judge rifled through the file in front of him.

  I made my pitch for bail. “Your Honor, my client has strong ties to the community. She still lives with her parents. She has no prior record other than a speeding ticket two years ago. She makes minimum wage at Dewar’s Bakery ... she hasn’t …”

  “The hell she does!” A deep male voice shouted from the gallery. “That trash doesn’t work for me anymore!”

  I turned. Ed Dewar had risen to his feet. He pointed a shaky finger at Aubrey. She stayed quiet, stoic.

  Judge Colton banged the gavel then pointed it at Ed Dewar. “That’s enough out of you, Ed. Show yourself out of my courtroom.”

  The damage was already done. Ed’s outburst riled up the rest of the gallery. Coach D’s players cheered Ed on as he turned and headed for the double doors.

  “That’s it,” Colton said. “I’m not concerned about Miss Lyon skipping town. I’m setting bail at two hundred and fifty thousand. She’ll be released to her parents’ home. Standard bond conditions apply.”

  Aubrey finally exhaled.

  Two female deputies came up on either side of the table to escort her back to the jail for processing. She gave me a panicked look.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I said. “I’ll make arrangements with your family to get you safely out of here.” Aubrey’s parents and brother hung back. They’d been lost in the crowd in the corner.

  “You should be okay to go here in a few minutes, Ms. Leary.”

  The voice came from behind me, deep, commanding. It was Detective Eric Wray. “Thanks,” I said.

  “If you need someplace to talk, jury room four is open. I checked with the bailiff.”

  “Thanks, Eric,” Dan Ames said. He stepped forward looking haggard. His eyes were puffy with dark circles and his hand trembled as he extended it to shake Detective Wray’s. I did a mental count. Eric graduated two years ahead of Joe. Dan was probably in the same class.

  Diane Ames clung to her husband’s arm. Their younger son stood behind her wearing a suit that was two sizes too big. I was a little surprised his parents dragged him into court today. He had to be still in high school. There was no way the poor kid wouldn’t get bullied during this.

  “I really appreciate it,” I said.

  “Cass!” Jack LaForge caught up with me as I tried to usher the Ames family to the relative privacy of the adjacent jury room.

  “Detective Wray,” I said. “Do you mind showing these folks to the jury room?”

  “No problem.” I knew it cost him something too. Two deputies waited in the hall, glaring at us. Eric Wray was with the city of Delphi P.D., not the sheriff’s department. They had control of the courthouse and even this seemed to be turning into a turf war.

  Wray never flinched though. He walked to the end of the aisle leading the Ames family behind him. He stuck his chest out and blew right past the deputies, alpha male-style. Now I had the courtroom alone with Jack.

  He held a file out for me. “Detailed police report. Crime scene photos. I should have the complete cell phone report by morning.”

  I raised a skeptical brow. “Don’t give me that, Jack. You’ve got it now.”

  He didn’t deny it, but neither did he offer to get that report to me any quicker. “I’d appreciate a gentleman’s agreement regarding talking to the press,” he said.

  I bit my lip past the automatic retort that popped into my head, misogyny aside. “I’m not interested in trying this case in the media, Jack. There’s no way my client can get a fair trial in Delphi. Today was a freak show.”

  “File whatever motions you want,” he said. “I will not agree to a transfer of venue. Larry Drazdowski deserves his justice right here in Delphi.”

  “Just get me the cell phone reports, okay?”

  I knew he was waiting for me to open the file. The edge of one of the color photos stuck out the side. I could just see an ash-gray hand laying flat on the ground, palm up. I would not do this in front of him.

  “Call my office in the morning,” he said.

  “Fine.”

  Jack already had his back to me. He lifted his briefcase in a sort of dismissive wave as he left the courtroom.

  Though I didn’t want to keep the Ames family waiting any longer, I knew I had to see those pictures before I went any further. If this case went to trial, I’d try to keep as much of them out as possible, but the jury would see them. No question.

  I let out a hard breath and spread the color photos on the table. The crime scene investigators had taken about fifty-odd pictures from every angle and distance. The worst were the full body shots. Larry Drazdowski lay face up, his hands spread over his head as if he were stretching. His brown eyes were open, frozen in shock as the life had drained out of him.

  He wore a white t-shirt with Delphi High School written across his chest in green letters. Below that was a green shamrock.

  “Fucking perfect,” I muttered, in case the potential jury pool could ever forget who this man was and what he meant to the town.

  The bottom front of his shirt was soaked in dark-red blood. You could just see the knife wound beneath the hem of his shirt on the left side. He’d been stabbed just under his rib cage, likely straight through the kidney,
though the autopsy report wasn’t ready yet. If Jack’s behavior was any indication, he’d probably try to delay getting that to me as well. Rumor was, he was planning to run for his boss’s job the year after next.

  “Oh Coach,” I whispered.

  I pulled out the police report. I already knew the gist. Aubrey had been seen leaning into the window of Coach D’s car just outside the park. Her cell phone had been found two feet from his body. Blonde hairs matching hers had been found on him. Aubrey hadn’t denied she’d been with the man. I slid the photos and the pages back into the thin file folder and stuffed them into my messenger bag.

  I walked into the hall, looking both ways. The sheriffs had done a good job ushering out any angry spectators. There would likely still be some on the courthouse steps. I made a note to ask for an escort for the Ames family and myself. Then I walked into jury room four and faced Aubrey Ames’s devastated mother and father.

  Diane sat with her face buried in her hands. Dan was more stoic, sitting straight-backed against the wall. Eric Wray was long gone and I couldn’t blame him. He’d gone over and above on this one.

  “Okay,” I said. “We got through the first hurdle. If you can swing the ten percent surety, you can have your daughter back home by tomorrow.”

  Dan nodded. “Twenty-five thou. Eric kind of explained that part. I can drain my retirement.”

  “We can’t go home!” Diane shrieked. “We’ve already had a brick through our front window right before we came.”

  Shit. It’s exactly what I feared. “Right. Well, you’ll have to go there, at least temporarily. It’s one of the conditions of Aubrey’s bond. But under the circumstances I think we can see about getting some extra patrols in front of your house. Did you file a report about the brick?”

  “Not yet,” Dan said. “We were going to do that when we got done here today.”

  “Good. You need to talk to the clerk about bonding Aubrey out anyway.”

 

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