Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 173733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
“I knew Jennifer wanted to know about a job interview I mentioned and how it went. She was working late that night.”
“Why did she call your husband and not you?”
“Her mother was very judgmental of her pregnancy. I think that made her more comfortable with men than women. But we were working on that.”
“In that conversation with Jennifer, what else did you talk about?”
“She had a lot of problems with the father of her child. We talked about him.”
“Were you jealous of Jennifer?”
“Of course not! I loved her. She was so sweet. And I loved that my husband wanted to help her.”
“Did you believe he was having an affair with her?”
“Not at all.”
“Were you ever jealous about other women?”
“No, never.”
“Not even Geneva Marks?”
“No. Of course not.”
“You never fought with your husband over Geneva in his office.”
“I—I don’t remember.”
“But you were never jealous.”
“I don’t remember!”
“Did you kill Jennifer Wright and her unborn child?”
“No. No, I did not.”
“Did you agree to meet her that night?”
“No.”
“And yet you were the last person to talk to her that night.”
“Objection,” Dan shouts. “Badgering the witness.”
“I’m done with this witness.” I walk to my table, and Dan walks toward the stand.
“Did you kill the victim and her unborn child?” Dan asks, echoing my question.
“No,” Kelli says.
“Did your husband?” he asks.
“No.”
“That’s your opinion, not a fact, correct?” Dan presses.
“It’s a fact,” she says. “I’d bet my life on it.”
“Do you make a point of claiming opinions as facts?” he asks.
“I do not.”
“But you needed to bet on this one because there were no facts,” the prosecutor states.
“Objection,” I say, but Dan moves on before I finish.
“Were you with your husband at the time of the murder?” Dan asks.
“Yes, according to the timeline I’ve been given.”
“Are you being truthful with us today?” Dan asks.
“Of course,” she states.
“Did you tell your husband that you wanted to confess your conversation with Ms. Wright, or did he tell you to confess?”
“As I stated, I wanted to confess.”
They go back and forth for an hour until the prosecution takes his seat. I stand up. “Judge, permission to redirect requested”
“I’ll allow,” the judge states and Dan remains silent.
I immediately focus on Kelli. “Where was your husband at the time of the murder, as stated by law enforcement?”
“Asleep in bed.”
“Where were you?’
“Also asleep.”
I sit down. Dan stands up. “Judge permission to recross.”
“Objection,” I say. “He had his time.”
“The jury needs the facts,” the judge replies. “Recross allowed.”
Dan moves quickly to questioning Kelli. “Could your husband have left the house while you slept, without you knowing?”
“Yes, but—”
“That’s all,” Dan says, and he sits back down.
I stand. “Judge permission-”
“Last time counselor. This is it. Make it good.”
“Objection,” Dan shouts.
“You’re late,” the judge says. “I’ve granted his request. Make it quick, Mr. Summer.”
I nod and look at Kelli. “Have you ever left the house while your husband was asleep without him knowing?”
“Well, I—”
“Yes or no.”
“I— Yes.”
I look at the judge. “The witness is dismissed.”
The judge looks at Dan, and he approves. I stand now and make my declaration: “The defense rests its case.”
The judge looks at his watch. “It’s now ten-thirty a.m. In the interest of time and the weekend, we’ll break for a thirty-minute lunch and proceed with closing statements.” He hits the gavel on the block.
The courtroom erupts in voices and movement, and I, along with my team and client, head toward the door, while I prepare for the war I’m about to fight. Nelson and Kelli are guided into the conference room first, and as soon as I step inside, Kelli slaps me in the face. “You bastard.”
She tries to slap me again, and I catch her arm. “What are you mad about? You just ensured your husband’s freedom.”
“And turned the police attention to me.”
She tries to slap me again, but one of my co-counsels obviously got guards, because they grab her. “Do you want to press charges, Mr. Summer?”
“No charges,” I say. “Just get her out of here.”
They drag her out of the room. “You’re fired,” Nelson growls.
I arch a brow. “You want to deliver your own closing statement? Are you sure about that? Because this trial is ending with or without me.” I don’t tell him the judge won’t let him fire me this far into this thing. I want him to fear being lost and lonely in that courtroom.
“You’re fired.”
I smile. “Well. Good luck.” I turn and walk toward the door.
“Wait. Fuck.”
I face him. “Did you want pointers?”
“Since when does an attorney ignore his client’s wishes?”
“You told me to get you off at all costs. The cost was what just happened in that courtroom.”
“If they come after her, will you defend her?”
“No. Because I don’t defend killers unless they had a justified reason for their actions, namely survival. Is she worth becoming a play toy in jail?” I ask. “Because you will be. The pretty boy who gets everyone off. Literally. And I’m not sure the guards will provide Vaseline.”