By Reason of Insanity (David Brunelle Legal Thriller Series Book 3)

by Stephen Penner

  Robyn looked a little surprised at the abrupt ending to their conversation. Brunelle guessed not many men hurried her departure. “Oh, um, well, yeah. It was fun. Uh, good job.” She thought for a moment. “Don’t tell Jess I said that.”

  Brunelle winked; he immediately wished he hadn’t. “Our little secret,” he said.

  Robyn smiled at that. “I think I could handle having some secrets with you.”

  Brunelle sighed silently to himself. If it weren’t for the fact that Robyn was a public defender and the huge complications that would accompany any liaison between them—oh, and the whole Kat thing—he’d be tempted to take her up on her obvious flirting right there in his office. It was after hours, and his door had a lock.

  “Spoken like a true attorney,” he deflected the meaning behind her comment, then gestured toward the door. He escorted her back to the lobby, once again taking in the scenery of her perfectly wrapped ass, before bidding her goodbye.

  *

  Kat was indeed early. That is, she wasn’t as late as she said she’d be. Brunelle got a text at 5:21: I’m in your lobby. come and get it.

  He smiled. She had a way about her too.

  He came out to the lobby and let her in. “Hey, beautiful,” he said as she stepped into him for a kiss. He kissed her a little harder and a little longer than she might have expected. She didn’t seem to mind.

  “Mmm, David,” she purred. “Maybe I should have gotten here earlier.”

  Brunelle kept his poker face. “No, your timing is perfect. Come on back. I’ll shut down my computer and grab my coat.”

  He followed Kat back to his office and remarked to himself that she had a pretty nice ass too. It was wrapped in a skirt that night, with textured stockings underneath. When they reached his office, he clicked off his computer and went to get his coat from the back of his door. That’s when he noticed Kat leaning onto his desk to look out the window.

  “This is such a fantastic view,” she said.

  “Mm-hmm,” Brunelle replied, not looking anywhere near the window. “It sure is.”

  Kat smiled at him over her shoulder but didn’t move from her inviting position. In fact, she raised her skirt-wrapped ass just slightly.

  Brunelle felt his pants tighten and recalled the lock on his door. In a moment, the door was locked and his coat was strewn across a guest chair. He pressed himself against her and she pushed back, lowering her head and moaning ever so softly. A few seconds later, her skirt was pushed up and his pants were pushed down, and he slid easily inside her. It didn’t take him long—he’d been aroused for some time before her arrival, and it was supposed to be a quickie anyway. For her part, Kat made that low groan she always did when he entered her, but otherwise kept remarkably quiet while he thrust in and out of her. He came with a low grunt of his own and kissed her between her shoulder blades. Then, almost as quickly as they’d dropped, his pants were back up, her skirt was back down, and he was holding her on his lap as they both looked out the window at the fantastic view.

  She nestled against his chest and sighed. He kissed the top of her head and wished he hadn’t been thinking of Robyn the whole time.

  Chapter 20

  The next week, Brunelle walked into Perry’s courtroom and was greeted by a smiling Jessica Edwards.

  “Good morning, Dave,” she chirped from where she was organizing her papers for the hearing. “Did you have a good weekend?”

  Her frustration from losing the competency hearing had apparently dissipated. That was par for the course for the good trial attorneys. You had to care enough to be angry when you lost, but smart enough to get over it so you could move on to the next battle. Brunelle would have been equally pissed if he’d lost. As it was, he got to gloat and celebrate up in his office.

  “Meh,” he replied. “It was okay.”

  Edwards looked up from her stuff. “Only okay? What’s the matter, trouble at home?”

  Brunelle grimaced. He didn’t mind having an official girlfriend, but he bristled at the box it put him into.

  “No trouble,” he insisted. “In fact, we went to the museum. Saw an exhibit by some guy named Ravensclaw.”

  Edwards laughed. “Rauschenburg,” she corrected. “I heard that’s supposed to be a great exhibit.”

  “Meh,” Brunelle repeated as he set his own things onto his table.

  “Not a big art fan?”

  “I think I’m an art fan,” Brunelle replied. “I’m just not sure it was art. It looked like painting after painting of brown rocks.”

  “Spoken like a true troglodyte,” Edwards chided. “Open your mind a bit. Try something new. You never know what you might like.”

  Brunelle nodded. He’d been thinking the same thing, although not about art. “I guess. But I can think of better ways to spend four hours.”

  “Four hours?” Edwards exclaimed. “It took you four hours?”

  Brunelle nodded and grimaced. “There were a lot of rocks.”

  He left out the argument he’d had with Kat during the third hour when she’d had enough of his sarcastic wisecracks about the rocks. She’d reminded him they were there for Lizzy, which just pissed him off more because she was right and he felt bad about being a jerk. So he’d pouted for the last hour. Not his finest moment. Or four hours.

  The secure side door to the courtroom clanked and swung open. Two corrections officers escorted Keesha Sawyer into the courtroom from the jail and directed her to the seat next to Edwards. The attorneys broke off their chit-chat and Edwards started trying to explain to Keesha what they were doing that morning. She seemed to understand and Brunelle wondered if she was getting tired of being talked to like she was stupid, rather than mentally ill.

  A few minutes later, Perry took the bench, storming out of his chambers and barely giving his bailiff a chance to call out the obligatory, “All rise!”

  Brunelle looked around the courtroom and found himself disappointed that Robyn wasn’t there. She was probably back in Presiding, actually doing her job.

  “Good morning, Your Honor,” Brunelle stood up and began to make the record. “We’re here today for a status conference. I was thinking that we could first select a trial date, then discuss what steps need to be taken in advance of the trial.”

  “You don’t need to tell me what we’re here for, Mr. Brunelle,” Perry snapped. “I’m not that old yet. I remember. And we’re not going to set a trial date first. The trial date will depend on what needs to be done to prepare for trial, not the other way around.”

  He turned to Edwards. “The first thing I want to know is what the defense is going to be. Ms. Edwards, will you be endorsing an insanity defense?”

  Brunelle sat down again. Perry had a point. And he was interested to see if losing the competency hearing had changed Edwards’ mind about the desirability of an insanity defense.

  “No, Your Honor.” Edwards stood up to address the court. “We will not be endorsing insanity. We will be pursuing diminished capacity.”

  Brunelle shook his head. That was a dead bang loser for Edwards. They both know it. So did Perry.

  “Diminished capacity?” he scoffed. “You’re going to claim she didn’t intend to kill her mother?”

  “I’m going to show,” Edwards replied, chin raised, “that her mental illness prevented her from forming the requisite intent for the crime of murder.”

  Perry narrowed his eyes. “How many times did she hit her mother with the hatchet?”

  “That’s not—” Edwards started.

  “Twelve, I think,” Keesha spoke up. “Maybe thirteen.”

  Everyone turned to stare at her. One of the many surreal things about criminal proceedings was that the defendant—the one who had the most at stake—rarely spoke. He or she was supposed to sit there and listen, like a potted plant, while everyone else discussed them and made decisions affecting the rest of their lives.

  Brunelle suppressed a smile, then looked to the court reporter. He raised an e
yebrow to ask whether she’d gotten Ms. Sawyer’s comment. A quick nod from the reporter confirmed it. He’d have to remember to order a copy of the transcript. ‘Everything you say can and will be used against you’—including spontaneous outbursts in court.

  Edwards bent down and admonished her client to stay quiet. Keesha nodded amicably. She seemed like a nice enough homicidal maniac.

  “That’s not the point,” Edwards returned to her argument. “The State has to show that she intended to commit a crime. She intended to defend herself and others. That’s not a crime.”

  Brunelle shook his head. “The State only has to prove that she intended to commit the act she did. That it wasn’t an accident. We don’t have to prove she was trying to break the law.”

  “Says you,” Edwards retorted.

  Brunelle was taken aback by the juvenile response. He smiled but before he could think of a response, Perry took control again.

  “Fine. There will be no insanity defense. The defense is diminished capacity. You’ll need expert testimony as to her mental state at the time of the offense. Has she been evaluated for that yet?”

  “Er, no,” Edwards answered. “We fully expected to win the competency hearing, so we didn’t have Dr. Adrianos address that in his evaluation. We’ll be contacting him shortly to—”

  “No,” Perry said. “I’m appointing the expert to conduct the evaluation. You’re not bringing in that Dr. Atlantic again.”

  “But, Your Honor,” Edwards argued. “I believe we can select our own—”

  “No,” the judge interrupted. “You can’t. You’ve endorsed your defense, now I’m appointing the expert to conduct the mental exam. Mr. Brunelle, what was the name of your expert again?”

  Brunelle was surprised by the question, but ready to answer it. “Uh, Thompson, Your Honor. Dr. Gregory Thompson.”

  “Right.” Perry turned back to look down at Edwards. “Thompson’s your doctor. He’ll conduct the evaluation.”

  “But he’s the State’s expert.” Edwards protested.

  “He’s the court’s expert,” Perry declared. “And he will conduct the examination. One exam. You will both be present and he will file his report directly with the court.”

  The judge paused just long enough to see if he was going to get any more push-back from Edwards, but she seemed lost in her thoughts. Or, more likely, her anger.

  “The trial will commence one month from today,” he announced. “Do you have any scheduling problems with that, Mr. Brunelle?”

  Brunelle knew the right answer. “No, Your Honor.”

  The judge didn’t ask Edwards.

  “We will have another status conference in two weeks,” he went on. “The mental examination will be completed by then or the defendant will be precluded from claiming diminished capacity. Is that clear, Ms. Edwards?”

  “Crystal,” she growled through gritted teeth.

  “Good.” Perry banged his gavel. “Court is adjourned.”

  Once the judge had closed the door to his chambers, Brunelle stepped over to the defense table. “I like being in front of a judge who listens to the lawyers, don’t you?”

  Edwards glared at him. “Fuck you, Dave.”

  Brunelle knew not to take it personally. Instead, he offered to help. “You want me to contact Thompson to schedule the exam?”

  Edwards opened her mouth to say something, probably caustic judging by the expression on her face. But then a smile suddenly appeared. “Yeah. Sure. Thanks, Dave.”

  Brunelle smiled back. “No problem. What are opposing counsel for?”

  He’d mistaken her smile for resignation.

  Chapter 21

  Thompson’s evaluation of Keesha was scheduled for the following Wednesday, in the jail. The following Wednesday, because that was the first day Thompson was available. In the jail, because Perry wasn’t about to sign an order transporting her out to Western State Hospital again.

  Chen would also be there, as lead investigator and for extra security, not that they’d likely need it. But still, he would be able to document the interview and testify to anything Keesha might say regarding the incident. He and Brunelle met Thompson in the lobby of the jail. It was a spartan affair: cinderblock walls, linoleum floors, and one corrections officer behind bulletproof glass. There was a row of small lockers for visitors’ cell phones and valuables, and a single, heavily armored door into the jail, controlled by the aforementioned corrections officer.

  The officer was a large man, an impression exaggerated by the bulletproof vest beneath his uniform. The three men exchanged their department IDs for visitor badges and Chen grabbed a locker for their things.

  As Brunelle pulled out his phone, he noticed his message light flashing. He touched the screen and muttered, “Oh, great.”

  “What is it?” Chen asked.

  Thompson ignored their conversation and slid his own phone into the locker.

  “Oh, nothing.” Brunelle realized he shouldn’t have said anything. “It’s just Kat. She texted me. A few times.”

  “Everything okay?” Chen inquired.

  Brunelle laughed. “Oh, yes.” He held up the phone. “I’m not making this up: she wants me to pick up some milk on the way home.”

  Chen laughed. “Wow. I didn’t know you guys were married.”

  “We’re not,” Brunelle was quick to reply.

  Chen waited a moment, then pointed out, “You didn’t say ‘yet.’”

  “No,” Brunelle agreed as he slipped his phone into the locker. “I didn’t.”

  Chen closed the locker and gave the corrections officer a thumbs-up. He buzzed the door open and Brunelle and Thompson followed Chen through a series of locked doors and barred gates until they reached the jail’s multipurpose room. The inmates were allowed to use it for things like playing board games and holding Bible studies. It was the only room large enough to fit everyone invited: Brunelle, Chen, Thompson, Edwards, Keesha, another corrections officer, and—to Brunelle’s private delight—Robyn Dunn.

  She smiled when she saw Brunelle notice her, flaunting that dimple at him, but she didn’t say anything.

  So he did.

  “Are you going to have co-counsel after all, Jess?”

  Edwards shook her head as she set her notepads and pens on the room’s only table. “No, Robyn’s just here to observe. I told her what we were doing today and she begged to come along.”

  Brunelle raised an eyebrow at the young redhead. “Is that right?”

  “I’m very good at begging,” she assured with a wink.

  Brunelle closed his eye momentarily to chase away the impure thoughts flooding his mind. When he opened them, he noticed Chen staring at him with an obvious ‘What the hell?’ look. He pretended not to notice.

  “You ready to go, Larry?”

  Chen nodded slowly, looking to Robyn, then back at Brunelle again. “Yeah. I think we better get this done quick.”

  Thompson was already settling in. The long table had been placed in the center of the room. Keesha was sitting at one end of it. To her left sat Edwards, then Robyn. To her right was Thompson. Brunelle sat next to Thompson and Chen sat at the other end, directly opposite Keesha. The guard stayed standing, against the cinderblock wall, a few feet directly behind Keesha.

  “Hello again, Keesha,” Thompson started.

  “Hello, Dr. Thompson,” she replied pleasantly.

  Brunelle noticed Keesha had her hands folded calmly on the table. He noticed it because they weren’t cuffed. But then he remembered that both Chen and the corrections officer had holstered firearms and forearms the size of Keesha’s leg. He told himself to relax.

  “Let’s start with the night in question,” Thompson said. “Do you recall what you were doing before you went to bed?”

  “My client,” Edwards announced, “will not be answering any questions about the alleged crime.”

  Brunelle dropped the pen he’d gotten out to take notes. “Jess, it’s a dim cap eval. She
has to answer questions about the crime. He’s trying to determine her state of mind at the time of the murder.”

  Edwards shrugged. “My client has the right to remain silent,” she insisted, “and she is asserting that right.”

  Keesha looked like she was more than ready to discuss the killing, but she knew enough to follow her attorney’s lead and stayed quiet.

  “C’mon, Jess,” Brunelle pressed. “You’ve done these before. You know how it works.”

  “Oh, I’ve done these before,” Edwards agreed. “But never with the prosecutor and detective present. If she discusses the incident, then Detective Chen can testify as to what she said, regardless of Dr. Thompson’s conclusion.”

  Brunelle ran a hand down his face. She had a point.

  “Why is this different from you giving us a copy of the report afterwards?” Chen asked. “Either way we get a summary of what she said.”

  “The difference,” Brunelle knew, “is that she doesn’t give us a copy of the report unless she likes the results. If she had her own expert, this would all be secret and we’d only know about it if she intended on using the result at trial.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Chen said.

  “That’s fair,” Edwards contradicted.

  “That’s the rule,” Brunelle boiled it down pragmatically.

  He realized Edwards was going to use this to go back in front of Perry and get an independent eval after all. He really didn’t want to do that. He wanted to salvage the situation.

  “Jess?” He stood up and gestured toward the corner. “Can we talk for a sec?”

  Edwards stood up. “Of course, Dave,” she smirked. She knew she had him.

  When they stepped away from the others, Brunelle started his pitch. “Look, I get what you’re doing, but can’t we work this out? My afternoon is shot anyway and Thompson came all the way up from Western State to do this. We both know he’s going to say she didn’t have diminished capacity, so let’s just get it over with.”

  “That’s why I’m doing this, Dave,” Edwards replied. “It’s bullshit that Perry ordered me to use your doc, then ordered that you get to sit in and write down everything she says. The only witness you’ll have to call at trial will be Chen. He’ll describe the scene, then recount whatever Keesha says today.”