Attorney-Client Privilege
Goldman House Publishing
ISBN 978-0-9815627-9-7
Copyright © 2012 by Pamela Samuels Young
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted or used in whole or in part in any form by any electron-ic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, including, but not limited to, xerography, photocopying and record-ing, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the express written permission of Goldman House Publishing.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, dialogue, incidents, companies, organizations, and places, except for incidental references to public figures, products or services, are the product of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. No character in this book is based on an actual person. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and unintentional. The author and publisher have made every effort to ensure the accuracy and completeness of the information contained in this book and assume no responsibility for any errors, inaccuracies, omissions, or inconsistencies contained herein.
For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact the author or Goldman House Publishing.
Pamela Samuels Young
www.pamelasamuelsyoung.com
Goldman House Publishing
[email protected]
Cover design by Marion Designs
Printed in U.S.A.
Also by Pamela Samuels Young
___________________________
Vernetta Henderson Mysteries
Every Reasonable Doubt (1st in series)
In Firm Pursuit (2nd in series)
Murder on the Down Low (3rd in series)
Attorney-Client Privilege (4th in series)
Buying Time
For Eric and Daisy Barnum,
I am truly blessed to have
amazing friends like you.
Thanks for all your support.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
CHAPTER 1
“Girlfriend, you need to relax.” Olivia Jackson gave her co-worker’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “We won’t be able to get through this if you don’t. You want me to pray for you?”
Judi Irving inhaled and pretended to busy herself inside her battered locker. Prayer was her co-worker’s answer to everything.
“Uh, that’s okay,” Judi mumbled, mostly to herself. “I’m fine.”
She stripped off her purple Big Buy blazer and stuffed it inside the locker. The second she’d entered the room, the pain swelling her feet went from uncomfortable to unbearable. Her body’s way of rebelling against another twelve-hour shift.
Olivia took a step closer to Judi, as her eyes crisscrossed the empty locker room. “Did you bring the documents?” she asked.
“Not here,” Judi snapped, her voice tinged with panic. She had told Olivia a thousand times. It wasn’t safe to talk about their lawsuit at work.
Judi was a fit, strawberry blonde, who usually masked her worries with a pleasant smile. Today she felt anxious and frayed. She stared up at the ceiling. She wouldn’t put it past Big Buy to have listening devices or even video cameras hidden in the locker room.
“You worry too much,” Olivia said, raising her right hand as if preparing to take an oath. “Not a soul can be against us because Jesus is for us.”
At only 33, Olivia spoke with the confidence and zeal of a Baptist minister. She had skin the color of slightly burnt straw and a body stacked with curves. Her tell-it-like-it-is personality significantly heightened her five-two frame.
“Ida can’t meet us tonight,” Judi said. “So you’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see them.”
It baffled Judi how Olivia could be so fearless in the face of what they’d just done. Two weeks ago, the three sales associates had filed a sex discrimination lawsuit against Big Buy, the largest discount chain in the state of California. Fed up with seeing women repeatedly passed over for promotions and subjected to crude, sexist jokes, Judi and her two co-workers decided to do something about it. The only way to make change, they’d agreed, was to shove it down the company’s throat.
The Big Buy documents Judi now possessed—documents Olivia was dying to see—should have emboldened her. Instead, they only heightened her fears.
Olivia’s face flushed with exasperation. “You’re way too paranoid, girlfriend. I’m praying for you whether you want me to or not.” She took both of Judi’s hands in hers, closed her eyes and bowed her head. “Father God, please protect and strengthen Judi for the battle we—”
“That’s okay.” Judi eased her hands from Olivia’s grasp and stepped past her, never meeting her eyes. “I have to go.”
***
It was close to ten by the time Judi pulled her black Camry into the driveway of her modest rental house in Mar Vista. Unfortunately, being home did nothing to lift her spirits.
A year-long divorce battle that was still in full swing had left her emotionally drained. And now, her starving-actor boyfriend was exhibiting the same evasiveness her husband had displayed right before he’d dumped her for a big-breasted beautician. At 42, Judi was still picking losers.
She made her way inside
and headed straight for the bedroom, longing for a hot shower and some deep sleep.
Phillip walked out of the attached bathroom, bare-chested and beautiful, his coal-black hair slicked back with a shiny gel. His grayish-green eyes matched the tint of his silk boxers.
Phillip barely looked at her. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Judi said back.
That had been the extent of their communications lately.
In the beginning, her affair with a 28-year-old she’d picked up in a bar had been nothing short of a thrill ride. At the time, a young lover was the boost her self-esteem needed. Now, it was simply a whopping mistake in judgment.
Judi undressed, while Phillip returned to the bathroom. It was close to five minutes before another word passed between them.
“You still going through with the lawsuit?” Phillip called out.
Judi snorted. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because it’s a stupid thing to do.”
Judi smiled. She relished this newfound power over her live-in lover. As the TV pitchman for Big Buy stores, Phillip feared her lawsuit might ruin his career—if you could call a few commercials, three plays and a B movie a career. He’d been constantly badgering her to drop it.
“Whoever sent me those documents doesn’t think my lawsuit’s stupid,” Judi shot back.
The thick package had arrived in the mail only three days earlier. With Phillip peering over her shoulder, Judi opened it to find several dozen documents and a typed note: “Good luck with your lawsuit against Big Buy. These documents should help.”
“You don’t even know what they are,” Phillip pressed.
True. They had both skimmed several pages and could see that they were financial records. Beyond that, they might as well have been written in Russian.
Judi had immediately left an excited voicemail message for her attorney. At the moment, Vernetta Henderson was defending a football player in a civil sexual assault case. As soon as that trial ended, their lawsuit against Big Buy would receive Vernetta’s full attention. For now, the documents were in a safe place. Not even Phillip knew where she had stashed them.
“They’re probably stolen,” Phillip said, refusing to drop the subject. “What happens if you get fired?”
If I get fired, then you’ll have to get a real job.
Judi should have kicked him out weeks ago, but she had a long history of letting men trounce all over her. Maybe that was why the Big Buy lawsuit meant so much to her. She was finally standing up for herself.
Having been out of the job market for most of her eight-year marriage, returning to retail had been her easiest option. She had expected a quick promotion, but soon realized the fast track at Big Buy was reserved for men.
“Can I borrow a few bucks?” Phillip asked from the bathroom.
“What’s a few bucks?”
“A hundred?”
“I don’t have it.”
Phillip strode out of the bathroom. He had changed into jeans and a body-hugging sweater that showcased his muscular arms. “Stop being a bitch.”
Judi charged up to him. “I told you not to talk to me like that. And where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“I have a meeting with Harold.”
“It’s almost ten o’clock. Since when do you schedule meetings with your agent this late at night?”
“I have no reason to lie.”
Those were certainly words she’d heard before. “Who’re you screwing, Phillip?”
He threw up his hands. “I don’t have time for this nonsense. Get out of my face.” Phillip shoved her so hard, she stumbled to the floor.
Judi laid there totally stunned. Their arguments had intensified in recent weeks, but Phillip had never put his hands on her. The rage began to build as she slowly got to her feet.
“We’re done. Pack your stuff and get out!” Judi shouted.
Phillip turned back around to face her. An ugly smirk marred his face. “I’ll leave when I’m ready to leave.”
Judi charged at him and gouged her fingernails deep into the left side of his face.
For several long seconds they both seemed stricken with paralysis.
Phillip finally pressed three fingers to his cheek. His eyes expanded as he stared at the specks of blood on his fingertips. Phillip’s precious face was his bread and butter.
“You bitch!” he sputtered. “You scarred my face!”
He snatched Judi by the upper arms, lifting her high enough for her feet to dangle in the air.
Judi tried to wrestle free, but Phillip only squeezed harder. Sharp stabs of pain rocketed down her arms. “Let me go! You’re hurting me!”
Phillip hurled her onto the bed, then bolted over to the dresser to inspect his face in the mirror. Three short, red gashes lined the left side of his face. He turned back to Judi, who lay coiled in the middle of the bed, sobbing.
“If you ever touch my face again,” he seethed, “I’ll kill you.”
Snatching his keys from the dresser, Phillip stormed out of the room.
***
The sound of movement coming from the kitchen woke Judi from her sleep. She was still curled up in the same spot where Phillip had discarded her. She checked the clock on the nightstand and was shocked to see that it read 3:27 a.m.
“A meeting with your agent my ass!”
She scrambled out of bed. Enough was enough. Phillip had to go. Now. Right now.
Striding into the hallway, she flicked on the light switch. No illumination appeared, but that did not interfere with her mission.
“Phillip! We need to talk!”
She stepped into the kitchen and pounded her fist against the light switch just inside the doorway. This time, when the light that should have flooded the room didn’t, her body constricted with fear.
“Phillip, is that you?” Her voice was smaller now and had lost most of its bravado.
Judi sensed the presence of someone nearby and whirled around.
“Who’s in here?” She could hear a loud, steady thud, but wasn’t sure if it was her heartbeat or someone else’s. “Phillip, is that you?”
She darted into the living room, each step compelled by an innate instinct to flee. Terror, however, had distorted her sense of direction. She was uncertain now whether the front door was to her left or right, north or south. She plowed clumsily through the room, arms extended like a mummy.
“Ow!” Judi yelped as her knee collided into the corner of a coffee table. She ignored the fierce pain and continued to hobble across the room.
When she finally made contact with a wall, she slapped the surface like a mime palming an imaginary window. Her hand found the doorknob and she fumbled with the lock before finally tugging it open.
Judi whimpered in relief as the cold morning air stroked her face.
Just as she was about to cross the threshold to safety, a hand gripped her shoulder and snatched her back into the living room. The door slammed shut as something hard and heavy careened into the back of her head. She crashed face-first into the wall. Blood gushed from her nose with the force of a geyser.
“Help! Somebody help me!” Judi screamed.
The intruder pinned her right shoulder against the wall and pounded her in the back of the head a second time. A heavy fog enveloped her senses, but Judi fought hard against her body’s desire to give in. She flailed at her attacker, raising her left hand up and over her shoulder. When she felt skin, she grabbed and pinched and scratched. But her efforts did nothing to free her from her attacker’s grasp.
Another hard blow to Judi’s head sapped any remaining strength. She began to drift toward unconsciousness as her co-worker’s earlier request flickered in her mind.
If only Olivia could pray for her now.
CHAPTER 2
Show no fear.
That was my mantra whenever I walked into a courtroom.
For the past eight days, I’d been sitting at the defense table in Department 26 of the L.A. Superior Court, wearing
my game face like a coat of armor. When my nerves threatened to flare up, I straightened my back, gritted my teeth and mentally squashed them like ants.
Show no fear.
Every eye in this media-infested tinderbox was now riveted on my opponent, Girlie Cortez, who was winding down her closing argument.
A salacious mix of Filipino and Caucasian, Girlie was a junior partner at the litigation firm, Donaldson, Watson and Barkley. Petite and slender with dark, ominous eyes, her shiny black hair spilled down her back like a curtain of silk. Born Lourdes Amelia Cortez, Girlie had legally adopted her childhood nickname and wore it like her personal marquee.
Any opponent who judged Girlie based on her feminine appearance would live to regret it. A tigress of a lawyer, she had a reputation for doing whatever it took to win—no matter how unscrupulous, unethical or just plain scandalous. I learned that from personal experience.
The Honorable Rafael Pedrano nodded in my direction as Girlie returned to her seat at the plaintiff’s table. “Ms. Henderson, you may address the jury.”
I slowly stood up, my facial expression confident, my stance relaxed.
Show no fear.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” I began with a respectful smile. “As you know, I’m Vernetta Henderson and I represent Lamarr ‘The Hero’ Harrison, the Los Angeles Legends’ star wide receiver.”
At five-eight, my height was ideal for commanding attention in a courtroom. My shoulder-length hair was parted on the side and conservatively swept back behind my right ear. My navy blue, pinstriped suit conveyed both self-assurance and power.
“I’d like to commend Ms. Cortez for that spectacular story she just told you. But this is a court of law. Stories are of no value here. To carry her burden of proof, Ms. Cortez must present you with credible evidence. She hasn’t done that because she doesn’t have any.”
I took a moment to make eye contact with a few of the faces in the jury box. Juror number six, a dental assistant with perfect teeth, gave me an encouraging nod. I was already counting on her vote, having caught her giving Lamarr a seductive smile that bordered on flirting.
Attorney-Client Privilege Page 1