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Blind Retribution

Page 8

by K. T. Roberts


  “Don’t talk like that. You know she wouldn’t have wanted this for you.”

  “I swear if I get out of here and that bastard hasn’t been charged with her death, I may even kill him myself.”

  “Watch what you say in here,” Cory warned in a low voice. “You never know who is listening.” Jack slapped his hands against his thighs in disgust. “Did you talk to an attorney?” Cory asked, but Jack ignored his question, covering his face with his hands. “Did you?”

  “Yeah, he was in earlier.”

  “What did he say?”

  “I presume the same thing he says to every client—‘I’ll do what I can.’” Jack’s frown caused deep wrinkles in his forehead.

  “You know I’ll be working in your corner to prove your innocence.” The two men exchanged a glance.

  “I know you will, but not if that bitchy detective has anything to say about it . . .” Jack’s eyes filled with contempt.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “That bad.” He nodded.

  “What’s her name?”

  “What? You mean, you can’t see her name etched in my forehead?” Cory grinned at Jack’s snarky comment. “Detective Maxine Turner, and she’s hell-bent on sending me to prison.”

  “What does she have?” Cory stared at him expectantly.

  “Oh, that one has a whole shitload of charges against me that have been twisted to make it look like I did it.” Jack crossed his arms and slid down to lean his back against the chair.

  “Tell me the charges.”

  Jack filled in all the things he remembered. “And the first-degree murder was reduced to second, because if I did it, which I didn’t, I would have had no way of knowing Helen would be driving the car. The other thing against me is my military experience with explosives.”

  The corners of Jack’s mouth lifted in disgust. “The other guys in my cell block told me this female detective is worse than any male detective they’ve ever dealt with.”

  “Really?” Cory was curious why her name wasn’t familiar to him, given his years of practice. He wrote her name down on a piece of paper. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her tomorrow and see what I can find out. Is there anything else I should know?”

  “My arraignment is tomorrow.”

  “I know that. I’ll be there, but I’ll go see this detective first to find out why she’s so confident it’s you. Hang loose. We’ll get this figured out.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Okay. If you think of things you want me to mention to your attorney, commit them to memory because they’re not going to allow me to give you a paper and pencil.”

  “I hate to do this to you, Cory,” Darnell interrupted, “but your time is up.” Cory’s disappointed expression had little impact on Darnell. “Listen, I did let you stay a little longer than I should have. The warden is watching all of us.”

  Cory sighed. “I know you did, Darnell.” Cory turned back to Jack, who stood up and placed his hands behind his back so Darnell could put the cuffs back on his wrists.

  Seeing the depressed expression on Jack’s face, Cory gave it one more shot. “Don’t worry about a thing. Know that I’ve got your back, bud. Hold on to that thought, okay?”

  Jack did not acknowledge Cory’s words of encouragement. Darnell yanked on his arm, and Jack slowly walked out of the room. An empty feeling of helplessness quivered in Cory’s stomach. He needed to get Jack out of here . . . and back home where he belonged.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Max walked into the precinct the next morning feeling good about Jack Hughes being behind bars. Howie would have been proud of her for arresting someone so quickly. Her thoughts halted when the desk sergeant called out her name.

  “There’s someone here to see you.”

  “Who is it, Sarge?”

  “I don’t know, but he’s anxious to speak to only you.” He handed her the guest’s business card. “He’s waiting for you in interrogation room two,” he said.

  Max viewed the card and said his name aloud. “Cory Rossini, attorney at law?” She raised her shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “He must be new, because I don’t recognize his name.”

  She looked at Riley. “I’ll catch up with you after I talk to this guy.” She entered the room, and when he turned around, fury attacked every nerve in her body. How dare he. How dare he show up here.

  “What?” she said, facing him. “Making a fool of me in the stands at Yankee Stadium wasn’t enough for you, or having viewers see us fighting on the Jumbotron? Are you here to feed your ego a little more?” He shook his head, ready to say something, but she continued. “Well, Mr.”—she looked at the card again—“Rossini, I didn’t like you then, and I don’t like you now.

  “I would have thought, based on the fact that you’re an attorney, that you would have had more common sense, but then again, maybe that scene was a marketing ploy to get more clients—at my expense, I might add.” She smirked at the expression on his face. “That’s it, isn’t it? But then to make matters worse, you offered to buy me a hot dog. Seriously? Was that to show the more humanistic side of your personality? Are you running for political office or something?”

  He shook his head.

  “Well, let me tell you, that attempt was lame.”

  His handsome face turned roguish as he leaned forward in the chair and weaved his fingers together, obviously aware that saying anything was only going to set her off even more. And that damn smirk of his wasn’t doing him any favors either. In fact, it only infuriated her even more, and the words flew out of her mouth faster than ammunition feeds into a machine gun.

  “You know, I told my nieces I’d do my best to catch a ball for them as a souvenir. So they intentionally watched the game on television instead of doing their homework. When they saw both of us going for the ball, they were jumping up and down because they thought I had it. Need I express how disappointed two young kids were when I told them I didn’t catch it?” Max angrily flipped her hair back over her shoulder. “Did you come here to gloat?”

  He stared at her with intensity as though making some sort of decision.

  “This is a joke to you, right? So let me express this in simple terms for you so you won’t waste any more time. You cheated.”

  “Are you finished yet?” he asked with raised brows.

  “Yes, I am. Now”—she gestured toward the door—“please leave!”

  He cleared his throat. “I agree wholeheartedly with you. I was a louse. I didn’t do it to make you look bad, or to embarrass you. I caught that ball for my niece who’s dying of cancer, and although I felt guilty that I wasn’t enough of a gentleman to give you the ball, I thought she was worth the ache in my gut. Furthermore, I’m not here for you. I’m here about Jack Hughes’s arrest.”

  “Oh.” Embarrassment flushed her cheeks, and it was obvious from the expression on his face he was enjoying every minute of Max trying to regain her composure. “Then you should have said so.”

  His lips smacked together in a tsk. “If you recall, I tried a few times during your tirade, but you kept bulldozing right over me.”

  Max cleared her throat. Uneasiness filled every part of her body. She simply stared without saying a word, and then she finally apologized. “You’re right, your niece deserves that ball a lot more than mine.”

  He extended his hand. “Can we start all over?” She nodded and accepted his hand. “Hi, I’m Cory Rossini.” His killer smile made her heart flutter.

  “Hi, I’m Detective Max Turner.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Detective Max Turner.”

  “Thank you.” She didn’t return the sentiment.

  “Now, can we talk about Jack Hughes?”

  “Are you his attorney?”

  “No, I’m a private investigator.”

  She held up his card. “Your card says you’re an attorney.”

  “I was,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “I gave you the wrong card.” He pulled out another card, this time looki
ng at it before handing it to her.

  Max’s brows furrowed into confusion. “You’re no longer an attorney?” She watched him shift uncomfortably in his seat. “Why?”

  “I just can’t practice law for the next five months.”

  “So you were suspended.”

  “Yeah. But that doesn’t have any bearing on what I know to be right. Jack and I have known each other since childhood. I know this guy better than I know myself, and I’m telling you he didn’t do this,” he said. “What exactly do you have on Jack to prove his guilt?”

  “Now, you know I can’t discuss that with you. You’ll have to discuss it with his attorney of record.” She checked her notes. “His name is Bill Cates.”

  “Cates? Why would he be using Cates?”

  “Don’t know. He requested a public defender. Cates is representing him pro bono.”

  “No, that can’t be right. Jack’s got plenty of money. He’s a famous artist.”

  “I think you’d better talk to your friend, Mr. Rossini.” Max noticed his jaw tense. “What I can tell you is we have an airtight case.”

  “I find that hard to believe. From what I’ve been told by my peers, you have an impressive record for arrests. I just hope Jack isn’t filling a quota for you.”

  Her hand lifted in the air into a stop gesture. “Let me stop you right there.” His distrust grated on her nerves and got her all fired up. She told herself to calm down—he wasn’t worth it. “I’m not one of those detectives who needs to fill a quota. I’m someone who does my homework and leaves no stone unturned. If that makes me a hard-ass, so be it, but I’ve never accused someone of doing something unless I had the proof to back it up. If you’re around long enough, you’ll see that.” Max stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.” Max abruptly walked out of the room and left him sitting in the chair. When she heard his feet hitting the floor behind her in deliberate steps, she knew he was on his way out too. She was still embarrassed about going off on him. Guilt for her actions sat in the pit of her stomach and rushed through every vein in her body. The fact that he smelled as good as he looked made her twice as angry. Because of his niece’s condition, she’d accepted his apology, but having witnessed his passion for his friend, she hoped he wasn’t going to be a pain in the ass.

  Walking down the hall to her desk, she was surprised to see a stack of cards from her coworkers sitting on her chair. She was overwhelmed by the outpouring of sympathy extended to her.

  “Are you okay?” Riley asked her. “You’re as white as a ghost.”

  “I don’t know what I am right now, Riley.” She moved the pile of cards to her desktop and sat down in the chair. She wondered if she should tell Riley what she’d just done. She was going to bust if she didn’t tell someone.

  “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

  “Okay.” She looked around to see who was close by. “Not here though.”

  Riley checked his watch. “How about we talk over lunch later?”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  Outside, Max lifted her chin and allowed the sun to hit her cheeks as she and Riley headed for Pat’s Pizza Palace.

  “Are you trying to get a tan?” Riley asked.

  “I might as well take advantage of the sun.”

  “So talk to me.”

  Max took in a deep breath and blew it out. Her mouth twisted to the side. “I made a complete ass out of myself this morning.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Ha! That’s an ongoing occurrence for me, so don’t think you have the corner on that market. What did you do?”

  Max hesitated.

  “Your secret is safe with me.”

  “I went to a baseball game . . .” She filled in the rest of the details. “This morning, I ripped the guy’s face off for taking the ball, only to find out it was for his dying niece.”

  Riley laughed. “Oh God. I’ll bet that stung. So how did he find you?”

  “It was a fluke. He was here because of Jack Hughes. They’re apparently good friends, and he wanted to know about Jack’s charges.”

  “You know what I think, Max?” Riley laughed some more. “I think you’ve met your match.”

  “Yeah see, that’s the thing. I think you’re right, but I’m embarrassed I ripped him a new one because the truth is I can’t help but feel an attraction to the guy.”

  They each bought a slice of pizza, then filled their cups with ice and soda, and ambled toward the row of window seats. After biting into his pizza, Riley asked, “So what did he have to say about Hughes?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual bullshit. We have the wrong person in jail, and he intends to prove it.”

  “Is he Hughes’s attorney?”

  “No, he was an attorney, got suspended for something, and now he’s a private investigator.”

  “That suspension sounds ominous, but I guess we’ll be seeing him quite a bit until trial if he’s trying to prove his friend’s innocence.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Max had mixed emotions. Regardless of whether she was attracted to Rossini or not, she had no intention of falling under his pretty-boy spell.

  “What time is the arraignment?” Riley asked.

  “Two o’clock.” Max felt an undeniable tingle of excitement at the prospect of seeing him again.

  “I’ll check him out for you.”

  Max snickered. “What is it about all you male partners wanting to be gallant knights?”

  He gave a nonchalant shrug. “You’re my partner now. We have to look out for one another.”

  “Now, don’t go getting all sensitive on me. You don’t need to check him out. I have no interest. I can’t afford to be distracted by any romantic notions.”

  “Okay. Whatever you say.” Riley wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Are you ready to head to the courthouse?”

  Max took one last sip of her soda, covered her lips with a coat of lipstick, and pushed back in her chair. “Let’s do it.”

  “Please rise for the Honorable Dale Clark.” Once the judge was seated, the court clerk made the first announcement. “Docket number 09-N-571-023,” he called out, “People of the State of New York versus Jack Abrams Hughes.”

  “Assistant District Attorney Audrey Beckwith for the State of New York,” the ADA said.

  “Bill Cates, attorney for the defense.”

  Max hadn’t been surprised when she’d learned that Bill Cates had been assigned to Hughes. He’d been assigned by the court to represent a lot of criminals these days. He’d won a few cases, but too few to have any criminals knocking down his door for ongoing representation.

  Max knew most of the attorneys in the county because she was often the arresting officer and had to testify against their clients, but she hadn’t recognized Cory’s name and wondered what type of law he’d practiced before his suspension. She watched Jack turn around to Cory, who was sitting behind him, and give his friend an appreciative smile, clearly showing the deep affection they felt for one another.

  The bailiff, a beast of a man who’d been coined Mr. Clean, stood in front of the defendant. “Will the defendant please rise and state his name for the record?”

  “Jack Abrams Hughes, your Honor.”

  “Does the defendant waive the reading of the rights and charges, Mr. Cates?”

  “We do, your Honor.”

  “How do you plead, Mr. Hughes?”

  “Not guilty.”

  Audrey stepped forward. “Your Honor, the State is filing a 731A Notice stating the charges against the defendant are supported.”

  “Would you like to make a statement regarding bail, counselor?”

  “I would, your Honor. The State asks that the defendant be remanded until such time as the court has set a date for trial. We believe the defendant is a flight risk.”

  The judge nodded to the defense attorney. “Mr. Cates, would you care to speak your piece?”

  “Yes, your Honor. There’s no good reason for remanding the defendant. Regardless of what c
ounsel thinks, this man is going nowhere. He’s an upstanding citizen. He’s an accomplished artist who has contracts with deadlines he must meet. If the court is concerned with him taking off, he’s more than willing to turn over his passport. Denying him bail jeopardizes his business. I ask that the court allow him to continue practicing his craft.”

  Judge Clark stared at the defendant before hitting his sound block with the gavel. “The defendant is hereby remanded to Riker’s Island until such time as a date is set for hearing.”

  Cory swallowed hard as he watched Jack’s head lower in disappointment. His hand reached out to touch Jack to lend his support, but the bailiff noticed and scolded him.

  “Thank you, your Honor,” Cates said.

  Riley scanned the room as they began to leave. “Is that your guy over there in the gray suit, the one who’s walking with Cates?” Max noticed Cory and Cates had stopped a safe distance away and were talking. She assumed it was about the charges against Jack.

  “He’s not my guy,” Max defended, although knowing he was only a few feet away had her heart pounding as loudly as the judge’s mallet.

  “Just a figure of speech, Max. He’s a good-looking guy,” Riley said.

  “Yeah, don’t judge a book by its cover.”

  Cory waved when their eyes made contact. She nodded an acknowledgment, but quickly averted her eyes and looked straight ahead, thankful he couldn’t tell his presence excited her. How she could even face him after her ridiculous outburst was beyond her.

  Max found herself thrown off guard again when she exited the courtroom and saw Cory leaning against the wall, their eyes made a connection. She quickly averted hers, but when she looked back, he was still staring in her direction. Max told herself to tamp down her ego, he was probably waiting for someone else, but when he began to make his way toward them, she prayed she’d be able to mask the anxiety dancing in her stomach. “Did you forget something?” she asked when he stopped in front of them.

  “I did.” His eyes shifted to Riley.

  “Allow me to introduce my partner, Neal Riley.” The two men exchanged a handshake.

  “What’s on your mind?” she asked.

 

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