“Why, Max?” she said to him in a teary whisper. “Why wasn’t I enough?”
He looked in her direction, but there was confusion, not shock on his face.
As we listened, tears began to fill Tina’s eyes, making the image of her standing in that bathroom doorway so real that I was right there with her.
Max’s failure to respond only enraged her more. “So, I’m the one who’s paranoid!” she screamed. Still no response. As she took a step closer to him, he seemed to be in a drunken stupor.
“I don’t deserve to be treated like this!” she cried. “And you’re not going to treat me like this anymore!”
Tina said she did not stop to think. She felt like she was caught up in a trance and someone else controlled the movements of her body. She darted over to the tub and began furiously jabbing at Max with the steak knife. He did not fight back or attempt to escape her blows. She stabbed and stabbed until her arm tired. When the fury of it all had completely exhausted her, she wiped the handle clean with the dinner napkin, dropped the knife to the marble floor, and fled from the room.
After taking only a couple of steps into the hallway, Tina realized that her shoes were tracking blood. She slipped them off and tucked them underneath her arm. Her chest covered in blood, she dashed for the stairwell and rushed to her own room, one floor down, terrified of running into another hotel guest. She made it safely there without being spotted and immediately shed her clothes. She wrapped her dress, stockings, underwear and the dinner napkin inside a plastic bag and hid them at the bottom of her suitcase. After cleaning her shoes, she slipped into another black dress, one almost identical to the one she was wearing. Luckily, she had brought it along because she hadn’t been able to decide which one to wear. She then headed back to the ballroom and resumed her role.
Her absence from the dinner had only lasted about forty minutes, not an hour as one of the witnesses had testified. She made sure to slip the pass key underneath some papers on the bellman’s desk without being noticed. Later that night, Tina mentioned to the bellman that she had returned the key earlier in the evening, hoping that he had not gotten around to looking for it yet. She was afraid that her access to the pass key would come out during the trial. The bellman, who had worked at the hotel for years, probably never came forward with that information because he feared losing his job.
Tina stopped and finally looked over at us, signaling the end of her tale.
“So, Max really was in the midst of the aneurysm when you stabbed him?” I asked.
“Probably. I think that’s why he never answered me.”
“So you didn’t kill him,” I said encouragingly. “The aneurysm did.” My own words surprised me.
“No,” Tina whimpered, as more tears rolled down her cheeks. “I killed him. I can’t blame his death on the aneurysm. If the aneurysm hadn’t happened, the stab wounds would’ve killed him. The jury let me hide behind the aneurysm, but I’m not going to allow myself to do that. This is something I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. I know it sounds crazy, but I loved him so much.”
Neddy got up and moved over to the couch next to Tina and wrapped her arms around her. I went to the kitchen to fetch a bottle of wine and returned to refill Tina’s goblet.
She took a sip, then looked at Neddy. “I’m so sorry about Lawton,” she sobbed. “Yes, I was seeing him, but I swear I had no idea you were his wife.”
Neddy was crying now, too. As they hugged and rocked each other, my own eyes began to moisten.
Tina finally pulled away from Neddy and, without our prompting, began explaining how Neddy’s husband had come into her life. Their chance meeting happened at the Barnes & Noble bookstore not far from her home, about six months before Max’s death. He stood behind her in line, struck up a conversation about the copy of the Walter Mosley novel she was buying, and invited her to continue their conversation over coffee at the Starbucks across the street. After exhausting the subject of their literary interests, they turned to their own lives. That first bookstore chat lasted two hours and was soon followed by regular coffee house encounters, all premised on their mutual love of literature.
Lawton told her from the start that he was trapped in a bad marriage and that leaving his wife would have meant leaving his two kids. Something he could not—would not—do. Tina was willing to accept his situation because she had no desire to give up her own lavish lifestyle. Being with Lawton made her predicament with Max bearable. He was the first man in years who seemed to enjoy just being with her. Sex had come later, after she had fallen in love with him. And when they had finally made love, Lawton treated her like delicate china, loving her in a way that Max had not, as if they had had some spiritual connection to each other’s soul.
I glanced at Neddy. She was holding Tina’s hand now. Her eyes locked on Tina’s face. I still could not tell how or what she was feeling. There was no way I could have listened to another woman describe being with Jefferson.
The day that Neddy had recounted her vicious divorce battle and her plans to take a leave of absence from the firm, Tina realized that her Lawton Joseph Brown was the same man who had destroyed Neddy’s life. That meant that Lawton’s professions of love to her, like his promises to Neddy, had been nothing but lies. Not only had he cruelly and intentionally deceived her, he was also about to cause her to lose the attorney who could help her go free.
When Neddy and I left her house that evening, Tina spent most of the night and much of the following day in tears. When she couldn’t cry anymore, she decided she had to confront Lawton. She called him on the telephone and told him she knew about how he had treated Neddy. Lawton did not try to explain or offer an apology. Whatever tales Neddy had told her, Lawton said, were all lies. He then reminded Tina that she was a married woman herself, and they were both cheating on their spouses, so she had no right to act so sanctimonious. In the end, he laughed at her for being so gullible and hung up.
She sat there, stunned, refusing to believe he could be so callous. He had hurt her deeply, more deeply than Max had with his affairs, and she wanted him to know that. She called back, but he didn’t answer. Though Lawton had never invited her to his home—they had always rendezvoused at expensive hotels, places she had paid for—she knew exactly where he lived. Still reeling from his harsh words hours earlier, she pulled up outside his house, Neddy’s house, just before midnight. She sat behind the wheel for nearly thirty minutes before gaining the courage to walk up to the door.
When she finally did, she was surprised to find the door cracked. Pushing it open, she stepped inside and called out Lawton’s name. When he didn’t answer, she stopped, afraid that she would catch him with another woman. She could smell the odor of marijuana and thought about turning around, but instead headed down a narrow hallway and into a small living room, which was empty. Farther back, along the same hallway, she spotted the kitchen, which opened into a spacious den. She was about to turn around and head upstairs when she spotted a trail of blood near a sliding glass door about five feet from where she was standing. She took a few more steps, then froze. When she saw Lawton’s body sprawled in an open area behind a long couch, she let out a gasp.
She rushed over, squatted down, and pressed her hand to his neck, hoping to feel his pulse. But there was none. His chest was covered with blood and she could see that he had been shot several times. A gun lay next to his head. She looked down at her hand and the blood, Lawton’s blood, brought back visions of Max in the hotel room bathtub and fear gripped her. She stood up and wiped her hand on her blouse. She was about to be charged with Max’s murder. Her presence in the house of another murdered man, one who had also cheated on her, could not be explained away. She had to get out.
She checked to make sure that she had not stepped in any of the blood and snatched a paper towel from a metal dispenser on her way out of the kitchen. When she reached the front door, she wiped her prints from the spot where she had pushed the door open, then calmly walked to
her car and drove home.
“I couldn’t call the police,” she cried to Neddy. “They would’ve tried to pin his murder on me. But I wouldn’t have let them charge you with murder. I would’ve come forward. I swear.”
Both Tina and Neddy were sobbing uncontrollably now. Tears were streaming down my own face and I wasn’t sure why. Either I was caught up in the emotion of everything I had just heard or the pain I felt over the absence of my own husband had overwhelmed me. I think it was probably both.
EPILOGUE
“Hey, everybody, it’s time,” an unfamiliar male voice yelled from the back of the packed twentieth floor conference room. “They just did a tease. It’s the next story after the commercial break.”
Once again, David and I, and this time Neddy, too, occupied center stage at a legendary O’Reilly & Finney victory celebration. It was less than twenty-four hours after the verdict and it had been a day of nonstop congratulations. David and Neddy were brimming with pride. I wanted to run for the nearest emergency exit.
A rapt silence fell over the room as everyone focused on the sixty-inch plasma TV hanging on the north wall. We all listened intently to the reporter’s dramatic recap of the Montgomery trial. My stomach turned when the scene switched to Neddy, David, and me flanking Tina on the front steps of the Criminal Courts building.
“The jury in this case did exactly what they were supposed to do,” Neddy said, speaking into a sea of microphones. “They listened to the evidence and rendered a decision based on that evidence. And relying on the facts alone, the jury found our client innocent. The prosecution, meantime, wants to complain about legal maneuvering. The truth is, justice prevailed in that courtroom today.”
When the report ended, the entire room applauded.
O’Reilly was smiling from ear to ear, no doubt already counting the new criminal cases that would come pouring through the door because of Tina’s acquittal.
He walked over and stood near the television monitor, diverting all eyes in his direction.
“I want to congratulate Neddy, Vernetta and David for the finest piece of criminal trial work I’ve seen since Johnnie Cochran told the jury, ‘If the glove don’t fit, you must acquit.’” The room vibrated with laughter.
“Trial work is not just about the facts,” he continued. “It’s about how you spin them and how deep you dig for the truth. Unfortunately, in this country justice is not always about right or wrong. It’s about who has the best legal defense. And without a doubt our team here out-lawyered the prosecution by leaps and bounds.”
O’Reilly raised his glass in the air. “Now let’s party!” he shouted.
As our colleagues encircled us to extend more congratulations, I eased away and pretended to be surveying the selection of food on a table near the window. I turned back to watch as David and Neddy gracefully accepted their kudos. Neddy acknowledged me from across the room with a weak shrug.
“Too much celebration?” O’Reilly asked, walking up behind me.
“You might say that,” I replied.
“Well, I just want you to know I’m glad you convinced me to let you remain on the case. I hear you gave a helluva closing argument. And you may not believe it, but that glowing review came from your nemesis, David.”
That was surely a surprise. I owed David a compliment as well. “Without David’s analysis of that autopsy report,” I said, “Tina would probably be behind bars right now. So he did a pretty fantastic job himself.”
“You might want to tell him that,” O’Reilly suggested.
“I will,” I said. And I planned to.
O’Reilly looked at me with pride. “You know this trial puts you on the A-list of criminal defense attorneys, don’t you?”
“No way,” I said, holding up both hands. “Criminal law is not for me. It takes too much out of you. Right about now, I’d love a nice, simple sexual harassment case.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” O’Reilly’s face turned grim.
I shook my head and picked up a shrimp. “No, I’m not kidding at all. I don’t think I have what it takes to do criminal work.”
O’Reilly grabbed me by the shoulders and peered down at me. “You just need some time to recuperate. Right now, you’re like a pregnant woman who’s just delivered. The pain is too new. But in a week, all you’ll remember is the good part. Like the amazing result you guys achieved for Tina Montgomery.”
His mention of pregnancy seemed to jar my entire body. I thought about Jefferson and a heavy lump formed in my throat. I swallowed hard and choked back a tear.
O’Reilly gave me a fatherly pat on the back and headed over to Neddy and David. Within seconds, Detective Smith filled the space that O’Reilly had just vacated. “Shouldn’t you be over there getting a few pats on the back, too?”
“I’ll pass,” I said, trying but failing to muster up a smile.
I was still stunned by Tina’s disturbing revelations. Although I empathized with the betrayal she’d experienced, that didn’t change the fact that she had brutally stabbed her husband and that I had helped get her off. I felt sick inside. The thought of having to spend another night without my husband made me feel even worse.
I had dedicated nearly every waking hour to Tina’s trial for the past few weeks. And what did I have to show for it? Some wonderful media attention, a great chance at making partner, and increased visibility in the legal community. But so what? I’d always assumed I could have it all. The great career, a loving husband, brilliant children. But as I looked around the conference room, there wasn’t a single attorney there, to my knowledge, who had achieved that utopia. Most were divorced or married to their jobs. Why did I expect my life to be any different?
I packed a plate with strawberries, cheese cubes and rye crackers and made my way back to my office. I sat the plate on the corner of my desk and began piling documents from the Montgomery case into storage boxes. I only wished I could erase all memory of Tina’s trial from my mind as easily as I could clear the documents from my desk.
About ten minutes later, Neddy barged through the door.
“How dare you run out on our victory celebration?” she said, smiling. She was certainly handling all of this a lot better than I was.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just not in much of a mood for celebrating.”
Her smile slowly dissipated. “Are you okay?” she asked, closing the door.
I sat down behind my desk, while Neddy took a seat across from me. “I guess I’m just drained.”
“Vernetta, you have to forget about everything Tina told us yesterday.”
I gave her a hard look. “How can I? How can you?”
“Easy. It’s just something we have to do. We did exactly what Tina Montgomery hired us to do,” she insisted. “We gave her our best and the jury found her innocent.”
“Correction,” I said, “the jury found her not guilty. That’s not the same as being innocent. And we know for a fact that she’s not.”
Neddy inhaled sharply. “Max suffered an aneurysm. You do believe that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I believe it,” I said, “but that’s nothing but a technicality. She was trying to kill the man and she would’ve if that aneurysm hadn’t beat her to it.”
“Maybe not. If he hadn’t suffered the aneurysm, he probably would’ve been able to overpower her and take the knife from her.”
I shrugged. “What about Lawton? Don’t you care that his killer is still out there?”
“Not really,” she said softly. “Lawton was probably killed by somebody he owed money to or some other woman whose life he ruined. It doesn’t much matter to me whether the police catch his killer or not.” Neddy hesitated, her face suddenly solemn. “I know this might sound like a cruel thing to say, but things happen for a reason. Maybe Lawton got what he deserved. Max, too.”
I understood the agony Lawton had brought into Neddy’s life, but her words still shocked me. She saw my eyes widen, but she didn’t back down.
> “Lawton lived his life intentionally hurting people,” she said adamantly. “You can’t live like that without facing repercussions for your actions—sooner or later.”
I didn’t know what to say. If this was the kind of detachment it took to be a criminal defense attorney, I was definitely in the wrong line of work.
“So, let’s just stop all this sadness.” Neddy stood up. “Guess where I’m going tomorrow morning?” she nearly chirped.
I tried to smile. “Sorry, Neddy, I’m not in the mood for any guessing games.”
“Up to Santa Barbara for a long relaxing weekend,” she said, ignoring my melancholy mood. “And guess who’s joining me?”
I could see genuine happiness in her face. “Don’t tell me,” I said, growing more excited for her by the second. “Detective Smith?”
A big grin lit up her face. I got up to embrace her.
“So, I was right,” I teased. “He does have the hots for you. He seems like such a nice guy. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks,” she said, beaming like a woman in love.
There was a knock on the door and to my surprise, Special walked in.
“Girrrrl,” she said, both hands planted on her hips, “I had to bring my ass down here to congratulate you in person! Y’all just pulled off the acquittal of the century!”
Neddy and I both laughed.
“This is my best friend, Special,” I said, introducing the two of them.
Special was wearing a sleeveless lavender sundress and an awestruck expression on her face. “When I get in trouble, I’m calling y’all. I never would’ve believed anybody could’ve gotten that woman off in a million years. Y’all are the bomb!”
“Thanks,” Neddy said, inching toward the doorway. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone. And Vernetta,” she said, before closing the door, “please cheer up.”
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