by Caine, Candy
Thus far in her career as a litigator, there hadn’t been a time when Marnie represented a client whom she didn’t feel was innocent. The thought of getting a murderer off and letting them walk freely amongst the public chilled her to the bone. Unfortunately the law provided that everyone was entitled to proper representation. However, in Victor DeMarco’s case she felt differently. She knew he had committed the deed, but felt that it had been an act to stop the suffering of his wife. How would she have acted had she been in his shoes? She didn’t need time to reflect, for she was certain of how she’d deal with it. Now she would have to convince the jurors to feel the same way she did.
Up until this point, she and Scott had managed not to let the trial affect their personal relationship. Certainly they had a few tense moments when they won points against one another in court, but nothing that couldn’t be easily swept aside—until an enterprising young reporter decided to stir the news pot and make his name a household one.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Tim O’Connell, a crime reporter for a large metropolitan newspaper, fancied himself to be a modern-day reformer of the court system. He didn’t find the system itself at fault, only the lawyers and judges who manipulated it for their own gains. To him, finding an honest lawyer was akin to the quest for the Holy Grail. When anyone suggested that he’d made this his cause célèbre as a result of his father’s troubles with a greedy lawyer, he’d argue that it had only served to open his eyes to the situation. “All it did was turn on a light bulb in my mind and illuminate what was already present.”
He was also a sexist, believing that men best served certain occupations. He felt that when women entered the judicial field, they brought their sexual allure with them, which often muddied the proceedings.
Sitting in the courtroom watching the DeMarco proceedings from day one, he hardly missed a thing. To him, Marnie was the perfect example why women didn’t belong in the courtroom as litigators. He figured half the male jurors were too busy undressing her with their eyes to listen more carefully to what was going on. The very fact that the ADA was just as attractive to the women on the jury seemed inconsequential. Her being black was also offensive to him.
Then when Tim O’Connell discovered the defense counselor and the ADA were romantically linked, skyrockets went off in his head. Feeling he was the reincarnation of the former investigative journalists of the Progressive Era like Tarbell, Steffens and Sinclair, he wrote his article with panache. He did more than drop hints about the trial proceedings being tainted because of their relationship, he made a case that their feelings for one another had to compromise their actions during the trial making it a total sham. He did not include in his article that he also found their interracial relationship an affront to God.
When Wallace Irving, the acting DA, read the story he was livid. He’d already warned Scott not to display any form of affection towards the defense attorney. And now this…
* * *
Irving was waiting for Scott in his office after the trial was recessed for the day. He’d had the highest respect for Scott’s talents. He just couldn’t understand his behavior with the female lawyer and why he was willing to trash his career because of it. All he had to do was continue in the direction he’d been heading and he could have any woman.
“What is with you, Langley?”
Scott had already seen the newspaper. O’Connell’s story was like a knife twisting in his gut. Most likely Marnie had read it, as well. The fact he had been doing everything by the book obviously seemed to matter little. There had been no public show of impropriety in or outside of the courtroom and certainly no collusion.
“The guy is obviously fabricating.”
“Is he?”
“Of course. My behavior has been exemplary.”
“And yet there’s this,” Irving said, slamming the newspaper down on the desk.
“The guy wants to make a name for himself.”
“I’d say he accomplished that goal. In our game, it’s all about image, Langley. We’ve got to project a tough stand on crime.”
“I have been doing exactly that.”
Irving raised an eyebrow, “And compromising our office at the same time?”
Scott was finding it increasingly difficult to control his anger. “Absolutely not,” he said louder than he had intended.
“Now you’ll have to do a great deal of damage control. It will be twice as hard to convince the public how we stand on this issue.”
Scott began to say something, but thought better of it. Irving, full of himself and obviously enjoying the power of the reprimand, didn’t even notice.
“Don’t give any more fuel to O’Connell. Stay away from that woman and keep it in your pants.”
“I’ll speak to Marnie—”
“Make sure you do it by phone. You are not to go within ten feet of that woman until the trial is over.”
That was it. Irving had pushed Scott over the line. What he did in private was none of anyone’s business. He had to fight to keep his anger in check.
“I’ll win this damn case…despite the lies and innuendos of sleazy newspaper men who use the media for their own ends.”
“I expect nothing less.”
Scott walked out of Irving’s office angrier than he’d been in a long time. He called Marnie as soon as he was in the car. All he got was her voice mail and left a message. He slammed the steering wheel. “Fuck that damn reporter!”
* * *
Marnie had just gotten home when she checked her voice mail. She immediately called Scott back. “What’s wrong? You sounded upset.”
“Irving ripped me another,” Scott said
“Was it because of the O’Connell article?”
“I take it you read it.”
“Who hasn’t?” she said with disdain.
“Then you understand what a predicament we’re in?”
“I only know that we’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Thanks to O’Connell, we’re probably the only ones who actually believe that,” Scott told her.
“So what do you want to do?”
“There isn’t much that we can do. Irving wants me to stay away from you until the trial is over.”
“And you agreed to that?” Marnie asked incredulously.
“I had no choice.”
“I don’t think he has the right to demand that of you. What we do outside of court is our own business.”
“He does because he’s my superior. And if I want to keep my job, I’ll have to comply. I was hoping you’d understand.”
“I do. However, I also know that we don’t live in a police state.”
“Marnie, please don’t make this more difficult than it already is. We can use this time apart to concentrate on the trial.”
That damn trial again! “I’m not. I’m getting really tired of this trial and its intrusion on my life—our lives. You know what? I don’t have the strength to fight it and you, too. Call me after the verdict is rendered,” Marnie said, breaking the connection.
“Marnie! Wait. I didn’t intend—he attempted to say, but realized he was holding a dead connection.
Tears flowed down Marnie’s face. They were more of frustration than anything else. She hadn’t meant to snap at him. She was totally stressed out. The trial was playing havoc with her relationship with Scott. That article had hurt her more than she had let on with Scott. Between the whispering and stares she’d received all day, she wanted to strangle that reporter with her bare hands. Maybe this separation was for the best—for now. She was tired of walking around the trial proceedings as if she was walking on eggshells—fearing she’d say something to Scott that would lead to an argument between them.
After the verdict was handed down, and the air had settled, she and Scott could resume their relationship and it would nurture and bloom. This was how Marnie decided to cope with the situation. It all sounded very well and good until she realized she didn’t think she could make such a cle
an break with Scott. She also hoped that when he thought about her as she was now thinking about him, he’d most likely feel the same. He had to be smarting from the dressing-down that Irving had given him.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Walking into the courtroom the following day did more to open Marnie’s eyes than a cup of strong coffee. Scott was already there with his second chair. Their heads close together, oblivious to what was going on around them, discussing something from an opened file. She noticed the attractive, well-dressed blonde had casually laid an arm around Scott’s shoulder.
A flashback of the scene in the ladies’ room replayed in Marnie’s memory. The way that woman described Scott had been so crass. And then the day outside the building when she spoke about what she liked most about him—stop this! Marnie squeezed her eyes shut trying to erase it. The woman certainly wasted little time in moving in on her. What irritated and hurt Marnie more was the fact Scott didn’t seem to be suffering by it. Perhaps, Scott could manage a total break from her, after all. Marnie forced herself to focus on the task at hand, pulling her eyes away from the two opposing counsel.
Frank sat down at the defense table and smiled at Marnie. He had to be blind not to see where Marnie’s eyes had been. “Don’t allow personal issues to cloud your mind. You should have checked them at the door. We’ve discussed this several times.”
“I know,” she whispered. “It’s just so damn…aggravating.”
He patted her arm. “I understand—I really do, but—”
“I’ll be okay. Don’t worry. Business as usual.”
The bailiff announced the entrance of the judge and court was in session.
* * *
As Scott’s cross-examined her witness, Marnie was tossing over in her mind whether or not to put DeMarco on the stand. Decision time was close. He would be the last witness for the defense.
The judge called a recess. Marnie watched as Scott helped the blonde on with her suit jacket. She could feel the fury rise within her as she forced herself to look away.
Frank went to meet a client, so she went down to the cafeteria where she bought a turkey sandwich. She’d hoped for a quiet working lunch. However, as she took a bite of the surprisingly good sandwich and began to look over the notes she’d made in court, the courtroom scene with the blonde and Scott replayed in her mind. Her appetite left as quickly as her concentration. She pushed away the sandwich and tried to concentrate once more on her notes. It was then that she sensed someone standing by her table.
“Sorry to disturb you…”
Marnie looked up towards the voice. It was the blonde! And she was sorry she disturbed her? Who’s she kidding? Marnie remained silent, yet that didn’t seem to put one wrinkle in the other woman’s cool.
“My name is Tara Berenson. Scott Langley asked me to stop by—with an offer.”
Marnie was furious, but she refused to lose her composure in front of this woman. Why didn’t Scott bring the proposal to her himself? Why did he send an assistant? No. That wasn’t it at all. Why did he send the blonde who had apparently replaced her as the object of his affections, not wasting much time? Now angry, Marnie wanted the woman to just go away.
“In light of all the negative publicity and because he was busy he asked me to speak to you since I am second chair.”
Suddenly too busy to see me? “Do you have the authority to make decisions or are you merely a gofer, Ms…what did you say your name was?”
Color rose quickly in the other woman’s face as Marnie’s words sank in. “I already told you I was the second chair in this case.”
Smiling, Marnie said, “I guess you’re merely a gofer then, Ms…”
The other woman sucked in her cheek, narrowed her eyes, like a cat ready to pounce. Marnie had obviously gotten to her. “Well, unless your side is willing to give my client no jail time, we have nothing to discuss.”
“Unfortunately that wasn’t among the options given to me.”
“Then our conversation is over, Ms…”
“Berenson,” the blonde said through tightly clenched teeth.
Marnie dismissed the woman by dropping her eyes back down to her notes. She thought she heard the woman utter, “Bitch,” under her breath as she spun on her heel and walked away.
Marnie had no intention of discussing the trial with the woman. She was a total stranger. Scott should have come to her himself. He could have spoken to her in her office or invited her to his. Or even used modern technology and called. Had Big Brother bugged his phones, too? There was no excuse for sending that woman, unless he didn’t want to face her. Perhaps, he was glad this reporter situation arose. He’d be able to stretch a little—enough to get closer to Blondie, of course. That thought heightened the joy of getting the better of Tara Berenson. Then Marnie realized where she was heading with this train of thought and shut it down. No. None of this makes sense. Scott loves me. He wouldn’t just dump me like that, would he?
* * *
Tara Berenson walked away fuming, thinking of all the things she should have said to Marnie. How dare she speak to her in the manner she did? Who the hell did she think she was? And what did a guy like Scott see in her, anyway? Blondes make the world go round, not some woman with coffee colored skin.
Ever since Scott Langley first walked through the door of their office, Tara had wanted him. He appealed to her more carnal instincts. She imagined that frigid bitch had left him with balls the deepest shade of blue. What he needed was a real warm-blooded woman like herself who knew how to treat a man right.
A smile formed on her face as a devious idea began to form in her mind and if she played it just right, she’d have Scott, as well. The trial had already put a strain on Scott’s relationship with the bitch. She’d do her best to intensify the strain, inflicting as much damage as she could. She’d start by making herself more indispensable to Scott by becoming his sounding board and confidant. Being assigned his co-counsel by Irving, she was going to be with him every day in court. She’d do her best to make it look like something was going on between them in order to make that cow jealous. Let her wonder what was happening between them outside the courtroom. Perhaps things will eventually bloom between Scott and her. If not, merely seeing the witch miserable was worth the trouble. Besides, what did she have to lose? A wicked smile replaced her scowl.
* * *
“She’s a total bitch!”
“Who?” Scott asked, knowing well enough to whom Tara Berenson was referring as she returned after her meeting with Marnie. To say that he could see steam rising from the angry woman would have been an understatement.
“Marnie Davis, that’s who!”
“Okay. Calm down and tell me what she said.”
“She was rude. I felt this big.” Tara gestured with her thumb and forefinger.
“What did you say to her?”
“Exactly what you told me to—hey, why do you automatically assume it’s something I said?”
“Because Marnie Davis is a professional.”
Berenson glared at him.
“Okay, aside from her questionable manner, did she give you an answer?”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Holding up a manicured finger, she said, “Number one, she was ticked off you didn’t speak to her personally,” then adding a second finger, “and number two, she refused to deal unless her client got no jail time.”
Scott blew out his breath. Marnie had chutzpah, if nothing else. “She actually said that?”
“More like demanded it. And if it wasn’t going to be offered, she added, we had nothing further to discuss.”
“Did she think I was offering her a deal out of weakness?”
Tara shrugged. “With her, who knows? Anyway, I didn’t wait around for her highness to complete her hatchet job. Perhaps, if you call her now, maybe she’ll grant you an audience.”
“I apologize for sending you into the lion’s den. I know Marnie Davis is a very competent lawyer. Perhaps she’s under a great
strain. I’ll bet she hasn’t even made the decision whether or not to put her client on the stand,” Scott said. He wondered if he was trying to convince himself or Tara.
“That still doesn’t excuse her behavior. She could have been more civil towards me.”
“Agreed.”
“Anyway, do you intend to speak to Princess Charming yourself or forget the offer entirely?”
“I’ll call her and give her another chance to accept our offer.”
“Good luck. I think you’ll need it. Perhaps you should surround yourself with garlic.”
Scott sighed.
* * *
Driving back to the office, Marnie’s cell phone rang. It was Scott.
“We need to talk.”
“Business or pleasure?”
“Business.”
“Call me at the office in about fifteen minutes,” she said, hanging up, the anger she’d felt earlier swiftly resurfacing.
Marnie parked her car, grabbed her things and walked into the office. Emotionally drained, she poured herself a cup of coffee and collapsed in her chair. She picked up a pencil and began to absentmindedly tap it against her desk. The office phone began to ring.
“Why were you so rude to my co-counsel?”
“And hello to you, too.” Why aren’t you here in person? She jabbed the pencil into the desk, breaking the point.
“Cut the sarcasm. There was no reason for you to treat Tara Berenson so poorly.”
“Was that her name?” Marnie flopped into a chair. “And how should I have treated a total stranger approaching me in a cafeteria of all places to discuss a sensitive issue?”
“She was only doing her job.”
“No. She was doing yours.”
“Marnie, what difference does it make who you speak to from the DA’s office?”
“Do you really expect an answer to that?” Marnie picked up the pencil and then dropped it.
“You know we’re being watched and scrutinized.”