Dark Valentine (17 page)

“You’d hang my reputation, and this firm’s, out there to win this thing? Rhetorical question.”

Carl Hagel was the bionic attorney. He had the killer instincts of a barracuda coupled with naked avarice and a nerveless demeanor that suggested either supreme arrogance or supreme confidence. No one liked him, but at Sagelblum it was universally agreed that he was the best of the best, and the next time any of them committed a heinous felony he was their man.

“It’s not going to come to that,” Carl decreed with the bland certainty he brought to every high-risk strategy. “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. You’re going to let Clay know his case is dog food. Tell him you can pull the trigger on his client any time you want and you’ll sleep okay. He’s going to ask her what she wants to do, and she’s going to tell him it never happened.”

Jules’s stomach churned. “You can’t be certain of that.”

“Yes, I can. Because that’s what she does. That’s how she got herself in this mess in the first place. She can’t say no like she means it. She skipped town when the shit hit the fan last year. Backing down and avoiding confrontation is her MO. And you know what’s really fucking inspirational about this?”

He was going to tell her, regardless, and in a chilling, disgusting way, everything he said made sense. Jules pushed her hair back from her face. Perspiration kept a few annoying strands clinging to her forehead.

“Knowing what could go wrong,” Carl continued happily. “And knowing you’ve got the power. That’s going to mess with her head like you won’t believe. Just step back and watch her lose the jury.”

“Christ.” Jules sagged against the nearest pillar. “You really are a devious bastard.”

Her boss chuckled like she’d just paid him the ultimate compliment. “I’m thinking, if she slept with you, she slept with other women, too. I’ll get Desjardines onto it.”

“I’m not happy about this, Carl.” Jules knew exactly how lame that sounded.

“You’re the one who fucked up,” her boss said. “Now make the problem go away.”

*

“But won’t it help our case if they know I’m a lesbian?” Rhianna asked. “I mean, wouldn’t it prove there’s no way I encouraged him?”

Norman Clay rolled a pen between his thumb and forefinger. “No, it will prove that you’re not the nice woman the jury thought you were.”

“A lesbian can’t be nice?”

The look he gave her wasn’t stern so much as disappointed. “You should have told me.”

“Why? What’s it got to do with anything? This wasn’t a crime about a lesbian, it was a crime against me—an innocent person.”

“Rhianna, we don’t live in an ideal world. It shouldn’t make any difference if the person on the stand is white, black, Catholic, Muslim, pretty, ugly, straight, or gay. But it does, because juries are made up of flawed human beings. All it will take is one homophobe out of twelve. What are the odds?”

“This is a nightmare.” Rhianna rested her head on her hands, unable to block out the memory of Jules sitting in the courtroom next to that man. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“The defense attorneys want to go to trial without a hassle. If we agree to continue as planned, they’ll agree not to raise the matter of your sexuality.”

Rhianna felt obtuse. “I still don’t get why it’s such a huge deal. I know what you’re saying about prejudice, but can’t the judge issue instructions about that?”

He shook his head. “We can’t open the door, trust me on this. If we do, Julia Valiant is going to claim you engineered the events that night to set up her client for a sting. To force the Brighams into a big out-of-court settlement. Your lesbianism, and the fact that you’ve chosen to conceal it from most people, makes you seem…less than honest. Even opportunistic. That how she’s going to argue her theory.”

Jules would do that? “I
wanted
a man to rape me? That’s insane.” Rhianna looked around for something she could throw at a wall.

“They intend to portray you as a manipulative deviant.”

“Did she actually say that? Julia Valiant, I mean. Did she tell you that?” An even more hideous possibility crossed her mind. “Do you think she knew who I was all along?”

“It’s hard to say, but we’re not talking about a small-town law firm. Salazar, Hagel & Goldblum play hardball. They hire detectives and jury consultants. They have a research team that prepares files on every witness. And if a few dirty ticks will help them win…Julia Valiant is one of the most ruthless trial attorneys in the country. That’s why Audrey Brigham hired her.”

Rhianna forced herself upright instead of sagging down on the table like she had no spine. Her heart flatly refused to accept that Jules had intentionally set her up. Was everything that had seemed real and meaningful between them mere illusion? Had Jules staged a farce to gather ammunition for the trial? The chance meeting in Palm Springs, the rash, romantic gesture of the flowers, the passion and the tenderness. Rhianna could not believe that the woman she’d shared herself with had been planning to betray her all along. Would Jules sink so low?

“Mrs. Brigham is offering a two-million-dollar bonus for an acquittal,” Clay said. “I heard half of that will go to Ms. Valiant.”

A million dollars. People sold out their mothers for less. Was that the kind of person Jules was? Rhianna felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Everything was going horribly, unspeakably wrong.

“What do you think I should do?” She wiped her tears. “Should I just withdraw the charges and save everyone a lot of trouble?”

“It’s too late for that, and if you refuse to testify, I’ll subpoena you.”

“I don’t understand. Why can’t I just change my mind and not go through with this?”

“Because the people of the state of Colorado have charged Brigham with a crime. The trial will proceed whether you want it to or not.”

“Will the jury know anything…about me and Jules?”

“No. They’ll only hear the evidence set before them. And when Ms. Valiant cross-examines you, be on your guard,” he cautioned. “Listen carefully and answer her questions as simply as you can. Remember, she’s not your friend.”

Chapter Ten

Jules was soft-spoken and charming. None of her initial questions seemed confrontational. The jury could not take their eyes off her. Rhianna felt the same way, but she forced herself to look somewhere else every time she caught herself staring. This morning, for the first day of the cross-examination, Jules was playing the feminine card. Her suit was silver-gray silk, shot with violet. The skirt was snug fitting, and beneath the jacket, a fine pale lavender sweater clung to her curves. Her hair swung loose, a sleek curtain that spilled forward when she glanced down, giving her a reason to tuck it fetchingly back every now and then when it strayed too far onto her face.

She did this just before she strolled back toward the witness box to continue her pedantic review of Rhianna’s testimony. “Would you state once again what you believed about Mr. Brigham’s invitations?”

“I thought he was asking me to date him.” Rhianna reminded herself once more that the jury saw her as a straight woman.

“And you declined because you did not wish to date him. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“And the reasons you stated were that you did not find Mr. Brigham attractive and you were not looking for a boyfriend. Did you have a boyfriend at that time?”

Somehow the woman who had lain with her head on Rhianna’s belly, and her hand fisted within, managed to make that question sound breezy. Rhianna wanted to shake her. “No.”

“Was there another man you were interested in at any time during your acquaintanceship with Mr. Brigham?”

What was this? Had Jules decided to sneakily tease out the information about her sexuality, after all? Rhianna counted to three and said mildly, “No.”

“So you were not willing to go on a social outing with Mr. Brigham even to discover if the two of you might become friends?”

“I could see that he wasn’t interested in being my friend.”

“What made you believe that?”

“I think most women can tell when someone is interested.”

“So, you consider yourself a good judge of men because most women are? It’s what—genetic?”

Norman Clay stood. “Objection.”

“Rephrase your question, Ms. Valiant,” Judge Tuttle instructed. “And Ms. Lamb. The court is not interested in your views on most people, only those pertaining to yourself.”

Jules resumed. “Please describe how you know when someone is showing a romantic interest in you.”

Rhianna almost laughed. Unable to help herself, she said pointedly, “Flowers. The people who send me flowers usually want something, and in my experience it’s not friendship.”

Impassively, Jules said, “Mr. Brigham frequently sent you bouquets, so you felt this was a sign of romantic interest?”

“Yes, which is why I phoned him and asked him to stop.”

“He continued to send them, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Did that seem odd to you?”

“Yes.”

“Was it your conclusion that he did not take your rejection seriously?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do about that?”

“I started throwing the flowers in the trash or giving them away.”

“Did you tell him you were doing this?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I thought if I ignored him, he would give up and leave me alone.”

Jules apparently wanted the jury to notice this point. As if a couple of them might be hard of hearing, she strolled along the box and repeated crisply, “Ms. Lamb avoided confronting Mr. Brigham. She thought if she ignored him, he would leave her alone.” Stopping dead, her hands on her hips, she faced Rhianna and asked pleasantly, “In your experience, have you found such a fainthearted, indirect approach to be successful in discouraging men?”

“Objection.”

“Sustained.”

Jules smiled. “Let me see if I understand this correctly. Having found that no did not work with Mr. Brigham, you thought saying nothing at all might be more effective?”

“Yes.”

“Over what period did you ignore Mr. Brigham?”

“Nine months.”

“Did it work?”

“No.”

“So for nine months he continued to behave like he was still courting you. He sent flowers, he made calls inviting you on dates, he hung around your workplace hoping for the chance to see you. Do you think this was the behavior of a man who knew his advances weren’t welcome?”

“I don’t know.”

“It never occurred to you that he just wasn’t
getting
it?”

“Objection,” Clay said. “Your Honor, Ms. Lamb cannot be expected to have read the defendant’s mind.”

“Ms. Valiant, is this line of questioning leading somewhere?” the judge asked.

“It is, Your Honor,” Jules said. “This witness testified on direct examination that she believed the defendant knew his advances were not welcome. Yet she now appears to be contradicting herself. The jury needs to understand exactly what Ms. Lamb believed.”

“Proceed.”

“Ms. Lamb,” Jules said earnestly. “Based on Werner Brigham’s conduct, did you believe he understood that he was wasting his time and that you had rejected him?”