DEFENSE (13 page)

Katie

I watched the prison van until it disappeared from my view. Harrison was gone, taken from me. Taken somewhere where I wouldn’t be able to touch him.

I knew where he was headed and called the prison immediately, requesting to see my client at the first available opportunity. But as night fell, I’d still not heard anything back. I must’ve made a hundred pestering calls by the time night fell.

“How can they do this?” I vented to Galiema. “I’m Harrison’s lawyer, for God’s sake. It breaks his constitutional rights not to let me see him.”

“Not if he’s been assigned an attorney by the state,” she replied in her usual emotionless way.

“Why would he be assigned a state attorney?” I said. “He has me.” I quickly corrected myself. “He has us.”

“Not anymore,” Galiema said.

She played me a voice mail Brent Johnson had left on her work phone. The call had come in while Harrison was being arrested. In the message, Brent made it clear in rather strong terms that he blamed Newland & Rook for what had happened, particularly with the paparazzi. He refused to contribute a single penny more to us for Harrison’s defense.

“But Brent’s just his manager!” I cried. “It’s not up to him who represents his players. Harrison can get anyone he wants to represent him. Harrison’s our client, not him.”

“
Mr. Wrexler,
” Galiema corrected, noting that I was becoming overly familiar, “may not be aware what is going on at the moment.”

I mulled her words over. Maybe he wasn’t aware. Or maybe he was, and he just didn’t want to see me.

***

For two agonizing days I was refused access to him—no phone calls, no visitation rights. I wasn’t sure how I even got through it. I fell asleep on each of those nights aching for him, desperate to feel his touch, desperate to take him inside of me and have him fill me with his love. But with the evidence the DA had on him, the chances of me ever holding Harrison in my arms again was slim to none. The thought was overwhelming.

Finally, on Wednesday evening, I got a call saying I’d been added to Harrison’s visitor list.

“Do you mean as his legal representative?” I asked.

“No, ma’am,” the voice on the other end of the phone said. “Just as a visitor.”

I ended the call, stunned. So Harrison really had chosen someone else to represent him. He really had been avoiding me. He’d been the one to cause the pain I’d felt over the last two days about being kept away from him.

***

Finally, I was given a slot to see him. I was dressing in my bedroom, and, in the room next door, I could hear Jessica moving around. She’d been discharged the day of our fight, but we’d barely spoken; things between us were still frosty.

I went into the kitchen. Tim was drinking coffee. He poured me a cup.

My stomach was a knot of nerves. I didn’t know if I could even take a sip.

“Busy day at the office today?” he asked.

Tim had noticed how quiet I’d become over the last two days, ever since Harrison had been taken from me. He hadn’t pressed me on the issue. He probably assumed it was because of Jessica. Little did he know that I’d fallen in love with my client, that we’d had one weekend of sexual bliss, and that the whole thing had ended in a nightmare.

“I’m visiting someone in prison,” I said. I forced myself to take a sip of the coffee. It was bitter.

“A client?” he asked.

“Sort of…” My voice trailed away. “You? Busy day ahead?”

Tim smirked. Our home was his office. His bedroom was strewn with art pieces that, quite frankly, would never sell.

“I’m spending some time with Jessica today,” he said. “Me and Jonas are going to the bar with her. It’s her first shift since she was discharged.”

I nodded, willing myself to show more interest. But I couldn’t. All I could think about was seeing Harrison again.

Tim pulled up a chair and gestured for me to sit.

“Babe,” he said. “Will you tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been a shadow of yourself over the last few days.”

I shook my head. Where could I even begin? What could I possibly say about what had happened between me and Harrison?

Tim touched my hand. “Whatever it is, I’m not going to judge.”

I hesitated and chewed my lip. Then I let it all out. I poured out all the details of the case and the way I’d become embroiled and infatuated with my client in the process. Tim listened to me, a stunned expression on his face. When I was finished, he said simply, “Wow.”

“I know, wow,” I repeated.

“Hey,” Tim said, leaning over his steamy cup of coffee. “You don’t believe that Harrison drugged her, do you?”

“I don’t know what to believe,” I said, shaking my head. “He completely cut me out afterwards. Why would he do that if he didn’t feel ashamed of something?”

“Katie,” Tim said. “You’re overanalyzing it
.
What’s your heart telling you?”

“My heart?” I said, looking out the window at the passing DC traffic below. “My heart says that Harrison would never be capable of murder.”

He was too gentle for violence; he was the softest, kindest person I’d ever met.

“Then you have to find a way to prove Shantelle took those drugs of her own accord,” Tim said.

I shook my head, feeling completely defeated.

“You can’t give up on him,” Tim pressed. “I mean, didn’t you say that Harrison didn’t know Catherine had been prescribed the drugs she was on? That she went to a different doctor so it wouldn’t show on the insurance?”

“Yes. So?”

“Well, what’s to say that Shantelle didn’t do the same?”

I leapt up from my seat. “Oh my God, Tim. That’s it! Maybe her employers stigmatized workers with mental health problems.”

“What was her job?” Tim asked.

“She was an exotic dancer. And porn star.”

Tim raised his eyebrows. “Well, there you go! Maybe she couldn’t get work while being medicated for mental health problems, so she had to lie?”

“Or maybe,” I added, “a previous diagnosis of anxiety and depression would make her too much of a liability for the company. You know, because it could make them vulnerable to a lawsuit if she claimed that the work she did for them caused her mental health problems.” The words were tumbling out of me now.

“So she went to a different doctor,” Tim said. “Went under the radar.”

A voice from the doorway startled us both.

“Maybe she bought the pills off the Internet to medicate herself?”

Tim and I looked round to see Jessica standing in the doorway.

“There’s plenty of ways to get hold of prescription drugs through illegal means,” she added. “I could have told you that if I hadn’t been lying in a hospital bed....”

I faltered. This was the most Jessica had spoken to me since she’d come home, and she’d decided to sort of crack a joke about her near-death experience.

“They’re common drugs,” I said as Jessica walked in and took a chair at the table. “All you’d have to do was Google whatever problem you think you have and they’d be among the first to pop up.”

“I think you’ve got your case,” Jessica said.

I looked at her, studied her face.

“What?” she said, looking a little defensive. “You don’t have to look at me like I’m going to break. I’m fine. In fact…” She looked down and started picking the skin off her fingers. “I think I’m going to take Galiema up on her offer to represent me.”

My stomach rolled with relief. I wouldn’t have to pretend to be interested in Nick to collect more evidence from his apartment. And Seb would get the comeuppance he deserved.

“That’s great,” was all I said.

I didn’t want Jessica to know how much it meant to me that she’d changed her mind. I also didn’t want her to feel guilty for the pain she’d put me through when she’d refused.

She nodded. She wasn’t really one for apologies, or for admitting her mistakes.

I looked at the clock over the sink.

“I’d better go,” I said.

I stood and left the apartment, my mind swirling with thoughts and emotions.

***

Harrison was being held at the DC Central Detention Facility, a twenty-minute cab ride from my house. I used the time to call contacts who might be able to give me information about the findings in Shantelle’s toxicology report and who might corroborate my theory about how and why she’d gotten hold of the drugs without consulting her physician. I asked our investigator to look into the film studios she’d filmed pornos for and the strip joint where she’d danced. It felt good to finally have a potential lead, to be getting somewhere, even if Harrison didn’t want me on the case. Once I showed him the right kind of evidence and convinced him I was in a position to throw the DA’s plea bargain right back in their face, he was certain to rehire me as his lawyer. I felt relieved to have some good news for Harrison when I saw him.

I arrived at the huge concrete prison structure with butterflies in my stomach. It was a formidable building, and I couldn’t bear the thought of Harrison being detained here.

It had only been a few days, but it felt like months had passed since I’d last seen Harrison. We’d been granted a face-to-face meeting, meaning that, at the very least, we wouldn’t be separated by Perspex. I didn’t know how I was going to stop myself from touching him; my body was on fire with the thought of being close to him again.

I was instructed to wait in the special meeting room while Harrison was fetched. The wait was the most agonizing of all, knowing I was so close to seeing him again. When the sounds of keys jangled in the door I leapt to my feet.

The man they brought through the door hardly resembled the Harrison Wrexler I knew. He was a patchwork of blues and yellows, from fresh bruises and ones that had begun to fade. His hair had been shaved off completely. It took all my willpower not to rush over to him and cover him in kisses.

“Katie,” he said as he shuffled into the room, weighed down by the heavy chains around his wrists.

“They wouldn’t let me see you,” I said, trying to find the right words.

“I know,” he said. “I know.”

The guards gestured for us to sit down at the table in the center of the room. We were strictly forbidden from touching. It all felt so formal, with me in my black suit, looking every inch the lawyer. I pulled my tablet out and placed it on the table. I’d already received some information back regarding Shantelle’s possible prescription drug addiction.

“What is this?” Harrison asked.

“This is our new angle,” I said. “We need to follow up on why Shantelle was taking those drugs and how she got hold of them.”

Harrison wasn’t looking at me. I wanted to touch him and tell him it was going to be fine.

“I’ve gotten some great leads in the last half hour,” I said, trying to reassure him. “There’ll be more by the end of the day. Things are on the up, Harrison.”

He clasped his hands before him and shook his head. “Katie, you’re not my lawyer anymore. I have a new lawyer.”

“A state one? Harrison, you can afford better. Hell, I’ll do this pro bono if that’s the problem.”

“That’s not the problem,” he barked, cutting me off. “I don’t care who represents me because it doesn’t matter. I’m still going to have to face a jury. I’m already being tried in the court of public perception.”

He’d spent barely a week in prison and had already lost hope. I was scared for him. How would he cope in here for weeks leading up to his trial? Without Brent Johnson’s financial aid, the whole legal process had wound down to its usual agonizingly slow pace. It would be a long time before Harrison made it to court.

“There might still be some room for negotiation with the district attorney,” I told Harrison. “Once we compile this evidence into a report they’ll see their case isn’t as strong as they thought it was.”

Harrison could barely muster a smile. He didn’t believe me.

“I can do this, Harrison,” I said. “I can get you freed and cleared. You just have to trust me.”

“I’ll never be free,” Harrison mumbled. “Even once this is over, I’ll never work again.” He looked up, his eyes filled with pain. “I’ll be destitute. I’ll never be able to take you to all those places I promised.”

I tipped my eyes up to the guards. I didn’t want anyone knowing that my and Harrison’s relationship had crossed over that forbidden line. They were gazing ahead, as though not listening. But I knew everything we said might come out in court and be used against him.

“That doesn’t matter,” I said in a hushed voice. “We can think about all that stuff once we get there. For now, you need to stay strong. Can you do that for me, Harrison?”

I watched him, filled with anguish. How was this the same man who’d brought me to the brink of ecstasy? He’d lost everything that reminded me of the Harrison I’d fallen in love with. He was a shell of the person I’d spent those two bliss-filled days with.