by Robin Roseau
"Ah you want to let him know two can play that game?"
"After a fashion."
"I am no bimbo."
"You certainly are not."
"If you say a single crass thing about me-" I moved deep into her personal space.
She held up her hands defensively.
"But you expect him to?"
"Probably."
"I'm not going to smile sweetly and take it."
She began to smile. "Good."
I nodded. "All right. You may treat me however you want, as long as it's tasteful, on one other condition."
"Oh?"
"You protect me from everyone else. No one touches me but you."
"Agreed."
Legal Notice
"How is the project going?"
"Hello, Ms. Boone. It's going well. Is this my one hour notice?"
"Yes, but not for what you think."
"Oh?"
"Something has come up about the estate. I need you to come to our office. How soon can you get here?"
"Can it wait?"
"Frankly, no. Don't tell anyone you're coming."
"I need to change. I'm in grubbies. Is an hour all right?" I looked at the clock. "Oh. That's after business hours. I'm sorry."
"No. Change clothes first. An hour. Everyone will be gone, but I'll leave the door unlocked with a note where to find me. And remember. Tell no one."
"Right." I paused. "What should the initiate wear to her hazing?"
"I wish it were a hazing, Ms. Todd. That I could control."
We clicked off, and I hurried to my bedroom. I was sure this was my hazing, although I couldn't figure out why she was making me drive downtown for it. But I was determined to be a good sport about all of it. And so I updated my makeup before dressing in clothing appropriate for visiting a law office. I collected my coat and purse. I decided I didn't need to bring anything else; she would have copies of any legal papers, if this was a real legal issue instead of the hazing I was expecting.
Of course, I grew nervous during the drive. I wasn't at all sure if it was better when I didn't see it coming.
At least I had one lucky break. I was driving the opposite direction from rush hour, and so for me, traffic wasn't bad. I pulled into a rapidly emptying parking ramp, took a slot, and checked the clock. Five minutes. I hurried.
It was 6:20, almost exactly an hour to the minute from hanging up with Ms. Boone, as I approached the glass doors to the law firm. I saw no one through the glass, and many of the lights were out, but true to her word, the door was unlocked. I stepped in and called out.
"Ms. Boone? Ms. Hunt. It's Blythe Todd. Anyone?"
I heard nothing. But she'd promised a note on how to find her, so I stepped to the receptionist desk, and sitting on the desk was an envelope with my name. It was unsealed, so I opened it to find a single sheet of paper.
Blythe, conference room B. It's on the right about halfway back. Raquel Boone.
I felt weird just letting myself into their offices with almost everyone gone, but I had a note from teacher, so to speak. I smiled, remembering high school hall passes. I stepped past the receptionist area and began moving deeper into the firm.
I'd only been here once, and I hadn't really been paying attention. Instead, I'd just followed the pack. With everything dark, and just the night security lights on, it was eerie.
"Ms. Boone? Raquel? It's Blythe Todd."
No response.
I found the conference room. There was a sign marking it as conference room B, but the door was closed. There was a window next to the door, although blinds kept me from seeing into the room. But I could see the lights were clearly turned off.
I knocked at the door. "Ms. Boone?"
Nothing.
I raised my voice louder. "Is anyone here? Ms. Boone?"
I didn't understand. She knew I was coming. She left a note for me. Maybe she had to go to the bathroom or something.
I fished out my phone and dialed hers. I could hear ringing.
From inside the conference room.
My call went to voicemail.
I stared at the door then knocked again. No response.
I stared at the door. Lawyers work long hours. I understood about long hours. If she were working like I was and helping with the Order of Circe events half as much as I was, may she'd laid her head down for a nap. I'd done that a time or two over the last few years while trying to make a success of Guerrilla Girl.
Well, I had a note, and I could hear her phone. But she must be really out of it to sleep through the ringing. I tried the handle.
"Eww!" Something sticky was on the handle, and now on my hand. But I pushed the door open and fumbled around for the lights. I found them, and then I stared at the wall where I'd touched it, looking for the switch.
"Is that blood?" I asked myself.
Then I turned around, searching the room with my eyes. I wasn't alone. Raquel Boone sat in a chair at the conference table. She was slumped over, and she wasn't moving. "Raquel. Wake up." I moved around the table to stand behind her.
And then I screamed. There was a puddle of what could only be blood seeping out from underneath the lawyer. I let out one long, blood-curdling scream before partially pulling myself together.
"Raquel!" I pulled on her, trying to wake her, and she slumped back in the chair, limp, with a knife jammed into her neck. "Somebody help me!" I screamed. "Somebody help me!"
I pulled the knife from her neck. It made a sick sound as it withdrew, but then more blood oozed out. I clamped one hand over her neck, trying to hold off the bleeding. Or maybe checking for a pulse.
I wasn't really thinking clearly.
"Somebody help me!" I screamed.
And that's when the lights out in the hallway came on, and I heard boots.
"In here!" I screamed. "In here!"
There was running, and then the door burst open the rest of the way, and two uniformed police officers, both women, stepped through the door. They had their guns drawn, and they looked just like cops on the television shows. One swept left, one swept right. And then they both aimed their guns.
At.
Me.
"Drop the knife!" One yelled. "Drop it!"
"What?" I said.
"Drop the knife!" the other screamed. "Do it."
"She needs help," I said. "Call an ambulance."
"Drop the knife!" they said together. "Do not make us shoot you."
"What?"
"The knife!"
I looked to my left hand, and I was holding a bloody knife in my now bloody hand. I stared at it and then slowly opened my hand and let the knife fall to the table.
"I didn't do this," I said in a dead voice. "I didn't do this. I just got here. She was like this. She- the blood- The killer might still be here."
"Step away from the body, ma'am," one of the cops ordered.
"She needs help."
"Step away from the body! Now!"
I released Raquel and held my hands high in the hair, slowly stepping backwards until my back was against the wall. Without my support Raquel fell sideways, landing in an unmoving slump on the floor.
The cops didn't wait. They both swarmed me, grabbing me roughly, spinning me around and pushing me against the wall.
"I didn't do this," I said. "I didn't do it! She needs help."
"Spread 'em," one said. "Hands on the wall."
They handled me roughly but professionally, and I stared at the wall where my hands left bloody handprints. Then a metal handcuff dropped over my wrist, my arm was pulled behind my back, and then the other joined it, both hands behind my back, my hands turned away from each other and cuffed into place.
"Raquel," I said. "Someone check Raquel. Is she breathing?"
One of the cops stepped away, and a moment later I heard her talking on her radio. "Dispatch, we've got a body. We're going to need a crime unit and the coroner."
"No," I whispered. "No."
The cop holding
me began to read me my rights.
Lockup
At first I thought it was an elaborate hoax. But the Order told me they didn't involve outside people or even an outside audience. They specifically told me I wouldn't feel the need to call law enforcement.
But these were real cops. They wore real uniforms. They were real handcuffs, and I was sure those were real guns.
And Raquel wasn't moving.
They pulled me from the office, and Ms. Hunt, Grandmother Cadence's lawyer, was standing just outside the conference room staring at me.
"I didn't do it," I whispered. "Ms. Hunt. Tell them I didn't do it."
"I heard screaming," she said in a dull voice. "Fighting."
"I didn't do it!"
Her eyes focused. "You're going to need a lawyer."
"You're my lawyer."
She shook her head. "You murdered a member of this law firm."
"I didn't do it! I didn't!"
The cops pulled my arms and began to lead me towards the front door.
"Ms. Hunt! Tell them I didn't do it."
"I'll find a lawyer for you," she said. "But after that, you're on your own."
* * * *
I was sure it was hazing, a prank. Raquel couldn't be dead. But they were real cops. And they stuffed me into a real squad car. But they didn't take me to the downtown station.
"Where are we going?"
"Shut up."
I didn't realize it, but the county had built a new courthouse in one of the suburbs, and that's where they took me.
"Why did you bring me here?" I asked.
"Full downtown," was the response.
We parked in back of the courthouse, and the police officer helped me from the back. Inside, there was one other cop waiting, another woman.
"Shouldn't it be busier?"
"We've only been open a week," said the new officer. "And you know about budget cuts. Now shut the fuck up."
They booked me. They took my picture. They took samples from my hands. They took my fingerprints.
They strip-searched me. They strip-searched me! I won't describe what that was like.
Then they made me put on some sort of prison fatigues. All my clothes went into evidence bags, and I was left in an orange jump suit with paper slippers. I didn't resist as they shackled me that way.
Then they dumped me in an interrogation room, locking my wrists to a ring in the metal table. I stared straight ahead, thinking wildly.
I'd just gotten there. I could prove it. I had a parking receipt in my car. It would show my time of arrival. I couldn't have been in the offices more than a few minutes. My cell phone would show a call from Raquel, and my attempt to call her.
I could prove all that. And what motive did I have to kill her? I was no killer.
I don't know how long they left me alone, but then someone stepped in. I looked up. Another woman. This one had shoulder length blond hair.
"I didn't do it."
"Yeah, I've heard that one before," she said. She pulled up a chair and tossed her ID on the table. "Detective Harris." She verified my identification, asked me what I was doing at the law firm after hours, then asked me what I had against one Raquel Boone.
At that point, I'd had it. I said coldly, "I didn't do it. I want my lawyer."
"You just killed your lawyer."
"I didn't kill anyone. I want my lawyer. I'm not answering any more questions without my lawyer."
"We have you red handed, literally. When the officers arrived, you were standing over the body with your arm around her neck and the murder weapon in her hand."
"I want my lawyer."
"If you work with us, we can take it easy on you. I'm sure you had a good reason."
"I didn't do it. I want my lawyer."
That went on for a while. Finally she pushed away. "Have it your way." She moved to the door, knocked on it, and the two original officers stepped in.
They marched me through the halls and into a very quiet cellblock, tossing me into the last cell on the end before removing the restraints.
"I'd think about a confession."
* * * *
I was there for hours, alone, huddled on the hard bed with my knees pulled to my chest, rocking slowly. Then there was noise, the first noise in hours. Then footsteps. When I looked, I saw one cop and... Liah.
"Liah?"
"Surprise. I'm your lawyer."
"You're a lawyer?"
"Yep." The cop unlocked the cell, held it for Liah, and then locked it once Liah was inside. She sat down on the cot next to me and pulled out a pad and pen from her briefcase. "Tell me what happened."
"Don't I have to sign something to hire you?"
"We'll worry about that latter."
"I didn't do it."
"We don't worry about that. We worry about what they can prove. Now, I don't do criminal work, so I'm only your temporary lawyer. You'll need to find someone, someone good. But there's about to be an arraignment, and I need to know what happened."
"An arraignment?"
"They found you standing over the body, Blythe, with the murder weapon in your hand. You had her blood on your hands and clothes. You left a bloody handprint on the wall and another on the door handle. What no one can figure out is why you went back. Was it remorse?"
"I thought you were supposed to be on my side! I didn't do it!"
"Tell me what happened."
I told her the entire story. We went over it three times, with Liah asking questions. Finally she set the pad down and looked at me.
"They're offering a plea."
"I didn't do it."
"Full confession, and you'll get 3 to 5. You could be out in 2 and a half with good behavior."
"This is bullshit!" I said. "They should do their jobs. I didn't do it. I'd just gotten there. They can check my parking receipt. They can check my cell phone records."
"They know you just got there. You got there. Raquel told you that you wouldn't be able to keep the house, that she had identified some irregularities. And so you killed her. You didn't know that she'd already told Sabrina Hunt. Killing Raquel wasn't going to help you."
"I didn't kill her! I wouldn't. It's just a house. I wouldn't kill anyone for a house."
"Did you even check the appraised value when you took possession? It's 20 acres of land in Broadwater, Blythe. The land is worth about six million. The house another five. And I don't have an appraisal on the artwork and furnishings. I'd call that motive, and so do the police."
I stared at her then turned away. "I didn't do it, and I'm not pleading guilty to anything I didn't do."
"You'll go away for twenty years."
"I didn't do it. I won't say I did."
"I won't get a better deal for you."
"I want a real lawyer."
She sighed. "Are you directing me to decline the district attorney's offer?"
"Damned right I am. And tell the cops to go find the real killer."
"They're busy finding evidence to pin your ass to the wall, Blythe. They're not looking for anyone else."
"I want a real lawyer."
"I'll decline the D.A.'s offer for you. The next step is an arraignment. We can enter a plea of not guilty. In the morning, you can find a real lawyer, as you call it. But I should tell you now, the judge tonight is Harriet Wren."
"Oh god," I said. "Can this get any worse? You have got to be kidding me. She has to recuse herself."
Harriet Wren was a member of the Order of Circe.
"Your real lawyer can certainly file a motion," Liah said. "But I wouldn't recommend we push that tonight. You'll just piss her off."
"What's she going to do? Summarily convict me of murder like my lawyer appears to have done?"
"She can send you back downtown, where it's crowded, and you'll undoubtedly have a cellmate named Big Momma. At least in here, you're safe from molestation. A cute girl like you would be real popular."
"I didn't do it."
"Yeah. You didn't
do it. I'll see you in court in a few minutes."
* * * *
Everything was moving way too fast. They had to collect evidence. They had to leave no stone unturned. How could it move this fast?
It was perhaps twenty minutes after Liah left that the officers returned. I stood numbly as they shackled me. Then they hauled me through the building to enter a courtroom.
Hardly anyone was present. The officers led me to stand beside Liah, and on the other side of the room stood another woman. No one else was in the room. The officers took a stance to the side.
I glanced at Liah. She was studying me. "I didn't do it."
"So you said. Don't get your hopes up on bail. I'll do my best. If I fail, your real lawyer can try again next week."
"Next week?" I squeaked. "I didn't do it!"
Then the judge entered. We were already standing, so we continued to stand. There wasn't anywhere to sit. But the judge sat after barely throwing a glance at me. She read some papers then looked across the room. "The people vs. Ms. Blythe Suzanna Montgomery Todd." She read some more papers then peered over her glasses at me.
"Let's hear it, Counselor."
The other lawyer stepped forward. "Murder in the first degree," she said.
"I didn't do it!" I blurted.
"Quiet, you," said the judge.
The lawyer gave the bare minimums. Just who I was, that I'd been caught in the act, and who the victim was.
"I see. Ms. Cross, I understand your client has declined a plea bargain."
"She has," Liah said. "At this time we would like to enter a plea of not guilty, your honor."
"So noted," said the judge. She made some notes. "We're not going to bother with a bail hearing. Remanded into custody for trial." And she banged her gavel. She was gone fifteen seconds later.
I turned to Liah. "What? What was that?"
"I'm sorry. I think the judge is pissed."
"She has to recuse herself!"
"You can tell it to your real lawyer," Liah said. "Good luck, Blythe. You're going to need it."
And the officers hauled me back to the cell.
* * * *
I sat in the cell and cried. I don't know how long I was there. It felt like hours. And then the officers returned. I looked up at them.
"I didn't do it."