Wild For Mr. Wrong (3 page)

Speechless meant her mother wouldn’t corner her and “express her concern” about Bryn’s lack of male companionship yet again.  

But Tam’s message was both unexpected and vague, which made Bryn instinctively suspicious, which in turn made her feel guilty.  She liked Tam.  Trusted her.  But it wasn’t like they were life-long friends or anything.  Still,
she’d
been the one to ask Tam about Thad.  And the notion that her friend was trying to do Bryn a favor made her feel…well, cared for, and she hadn’t felt that way in a long time.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard of her phone, ready to type the message, “No, thanks.”  Instead, she pursed her lips, then put her phone away.  Perhaps it was time she started letting Tam in a little closer.  Besides, how bad could this set up be?  It wasn’t like she was looking for a relationship here.  The guy would be there to create a barrier between her and her mother, and that’s all that mattered.

With a sigh, Bryn shifted through her stack of files.  The clerk asked the bailiff to escort the jury into the courtroom.  As they waited, Bryn felt Daniel’s gaze on her.  It took everything she had not to turn his way.

During his efforts to talk with her, he’d taken her repeated verbal jabs at his profession with equanimity.  More often than not, he’d give her a slightly chiding look, as if he knew she was purposefully trying to keep him at a distance.  Sometimes he’d use her insult as an opportunity to share personal information about himself or to start an intellectual discussion.  Try as she might, she couldn’t get him to go away.  And the worst part of it was, she didn’t want him to.

But she had to be strong, despite the dreams that were coming more often now.  In between fantasies of licking the cleft in his chin while he lifted her skirt and pressed himself into her, she’d remember everything else she was missing from her life.  Not just the sex.  That had never been particularly good for her, anyway.  But she’d almost forgotten how good it felt to have a man to talk to.  To laugh with.  To rely on.

She couldn’t rely on Daniel.  Tam had admitted he was a player.  Even worse, he was also a defense attorney and therefore wasn’t someone she wanted any part of.  

For an instant, she remembered the fear on her sister’s face five years ago.  Bryn had just started law school and was home on break.  She and Carin had gone out partying together.  When they’d met up again, Carin was bruised up and crying and, although she’d tried to deny it at first, she’d finally confessed that her date, Carl Pageant, had pushed her to go farther sexually, then attacked her when she’d said no.  

He’d raped her little sister.  

And he’d done it when Bryn was supposed to be watching over her.  

At the time, Bryn had been considering going into defense work, but after Pageant’s lawyer got him off on a technicality, she’d switched her emphasis to prosecution.

It wasn’t fair to lump all defense attorneys into the same mold. She shouldn’t think poorly of all of them, but that didn’t mean she had to date one, either.    

Yet sometimes…when she looked at Daniel…

Knowing it would mean more time spent with him, she’d wanted to cry when Kyle Winsor  refused to plead out.  The trial had only lasted two days, with the closing statements scheduled for today, but even that had been too long.  Daniel was like a drug.  The more she was around him, the more she wanted him.   

Instead of crying, she’d acted like a royal bitch over the course of the trial.  Daniel didn’t seem to mind.  The man was unbelievably persistent.  A freaking masochist, Bryn thought crossly.   But a talented one.  As much as she hated to admit it, she was having to work hard to get a conviction in this case.  

Juries sometimes had a hard time relying on circumstantial evidence to convict career criminals, let alone a fresh-faced nineteen-year-old who managed to exude both boyish sincerity and an eagerness to please.  Combine that with Mays’s own lethal brand of persuasiveness and a jury would be sorely tempted to believe Kyle Winsor’s testimony that he had nothing to do with the burglary of his former employer’s store.

But Bryn wasn’t beaten yet.  She didn’t blame the son for his father’s actions, but based on the evidence, Kyle’s guilt was clear.  She could only hope the jury would see through Kyle’s act and planned to focus on this theme during her closing argument.  

For the next forty-five minutes, Judge Lancaster instructed the jury. At one point, Daniel watched her so intently she could no longer stand it.  She turned to look at him.  When he arched a brow and smirked, amusement and desire jolted through her.  To cover her reaction, she raised her own brow and tried to stare him down.  Eons seemed to pass, neither one of them willing to look away.  She’d just started wondering how he’d gotten the small scar on his left cheek when someone said her name, jolting her attention back to the trial.

“
Ms. Donovon?”  Judge Lancaster sounded annoyed.  “The jury is waiting for your closing statement.”

Heat suffused her entire body.  Oh, God!  What was wrong with her?  She’d actually forgotten where she was.  “Thank you, your honor.”

She didn’t get up right away.  She took a sip of water and mentally composed herself.  When she rose, she did so with outward confidence, and then addressed the jury.

Bryn soon forgot her embarrassment and lost herself in her argument.  In summarizing the evidence, Bryn emphasized Winsor’s motive to burglarize Bill Sherman’s auto store (Sherman had fired him days earlier), the burglars’ familiarity with Sherman’s schedule (the burglary had occurred at 2:30 p.m., when Sherman customarily left for lunch) and the layout of the store (the burglars knew the location of the hidden safe), and the criminals’ use of a faulty window lock to gain entry.  

“
These are all facts,” she said, “that required insider information.  Not surprising, then, that one of the burglars named Winsor as an accomplice.  Also remember that Winsor tried to run when he was approached by Detective Lance Romero the next day.  You can use this flight as evidence of Winsor’s consciousness of guilt.  Why would he have run if he had nothing to hide?  No matter how much he wants to charm you into believing he is innocent, the evidence indicates otherwise.  This young man needs to take responsibility for his actions rather than relying on good looks and an engaging smile to make his way in the world.”  

At this last statement, Bryn looked pointedly at Mays, who smiled slightly in acknowledgment at her small dig.  

Bryn concluded her argument by summarizing the elements of burglary as well as the appropriate standards of proof.  When she thanked the jurors, she could see she had reached some of them.  With renewed confidence, she returned to her seat, and the jurors switched their attention to Mays.  

Mays took more time than usual to respond.  He reclined back in his seat, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his chin resting on his two index fingers.  After a couple of seconds, Mays rose, patted Kyle Winsor on the back, and deliberately remained silent for an additional two or three seconds.  The first thing he did was agree with Bryn.  

“
The evidence in this case is certainly damaging, ladies and gentlemen.  If I was forced to hazard a guess, I’d have to say chances were pretty good that young Kyle here was involved in this crime.”  

Bryn frowned, not fooled for a second.  She knew from past experience where Mays was going with his argument.  Set up a straw man and knock it down.  Sure enough, he continued, “That’s what the prosecution is asking you to do today.  Look at the evidence they’ve given you and make your best guess.  Well, to quote the late Ann Richards, who made this Southern expression famous: ‘That dog won’t hunt.’ As an individual, you’ve already made your best guess about Kyle’s guilt or innocence.  But as a juror, are you prepared to say there’s absolutely no reasonable doubt in your mind that maybe, just maybe, Kyle really was just an innocent bystander in all of this?”  

Two jurors, appearing entranced by Mays’s argument, shook their heads.

“
Let’s talk about an issue Ms. Donovon brought up, something having to do with outward appearances.  Are we asking you to acquit Kyle because of his looks?  Absolutely not.  But a person’s looks, their demeanor, their ability to look you in the eye, is the very thing you’re here to judge.  How else are you going to determine whether you believe Kyle or not?  Is he credible?  I believe he is.  The evidence, on the other hand, simply is not.  

“
First, let’s address the question of flight.  My client admits he ran away from Detective Romero.  Well, look at him.” Daniel gestured to the beefy detective in the first row. “He’s a pretty intimidating guy.  I’m a grown man, and I’d run if Mr. Romero approached me.”  

The jurors chuckled at this as if agreeing that they too would hate to be approached by the mountain of a detective with tree trunk-sized arms.  

Mays continued, “When you look at Kyle, does he look like someone who would jeopardize his future for a quarter cut of an $800 take?  Now, I’m not saying you can look at Kyle and see the truth, but you can certainly take into account everything you’ve observed about him in the last few days.  Has he struck you as someone who would hang out with three high school delinquents with nothing better to do than smoke pot and look for their next score?  No.  Kyle has testified that he had nothing to do with the burglary of Mr. Sherman’s store, and the prosecution has given you nothing to concretely counter that.  They’ve given you circumstances and suspicions, that’s all.

“
Now, Ms. Donovon is just about the prettiest lawyer I’ve ever met.  She’s also one of the most talented.  But she’s right, appearances aren’t enough to acquit a man, and they are certainly not enough to convict one.”  

At first Bryn thought she had misheard him.  Had he actually referred to her looks during his closing argument?  Apparently so, since every eye in the courtroom, including Judge Lancaster’s, had turned toward her.  

Bryn blushed, but before she could object to Mays’s personal aside, he said with a smile, “Now, I can tell by looking at Ms. Donovon’s face that we’re going to be having a little ‘come to Jesus’ meeting for my chauvinistic comment, but I do have a point, so please be patient with me.  You see,” he said, “the law defines reasonable doubt as an abiding conviction in the truth of something.  I can look at Ms. Donovon and have an abiding conviction in her beauty.  I can see that for myself.  All of us can.  I can work with her and have an abiding conviction in her intelligence and passion.  I can hear that in every word she says.  So can you.  But despite these outward appearances, I can’t have an abiding conviction in her conclusions, because those conclusions, just like everything else in this trial, have to be based on the evidence, and the evidence here just isn’t enough to convict Kyle.”  Mays went on to criticize the credibility of the prosecution’s main witness, the burglar who had sold Winsor out, but Bryn barely heard him.  

She couldn’t believe the idiot had used her name during argument the way he had.  When he was finished, she was so angry she could barely pull herself together long enough to give a concise rebuttal argument.  But she did.  By the time the jury had been escorted to its deliberation room and it was just Vance and the two of them in court, Bryn was ready to attack.

“
Are you insane?” she snapped, striding up to him and poking him in the chest.  “How dare you pull a stunt like that?”  

Daniel held up his hands as if to ward her off.  “Come on, now, Bryn, I was just making a point.  A valid one.”  

Bryn could barely respond.  She actually sputtered for a few seconds, resulting in Daniel having to suppress a smile.  

Bryn narrowed her eyes and leaned toward him.  Without thinking, she reached out and stabbed the middle of his collarbone with her index finger.  She ran her finger down his burgundy tie and felt his chest, then his abdomen muscles, tighten.  She stopped her finger at the band of his trousers a split second before he grabbed her wrist.  With sugared hostility, she dug her nail into his hard abdomen and said, “The next time you decide to make a point by referring to my looks, counselor, I will put you and your homespun Southern mannerisms through the shredder.  Do I make my point clear?”  

Ending her tirade with a final glare, Bryn wrenched her hand out of his, spun around, and marched to the door of the courtroom. But she wasn’t able to get out the door before Vance’s laughter and comment leaped out at her. “Hey, man, do you want a glass of water with those nuts?”

It was close to seven o’clock by the time Bryn hung up the phone with her last preliminary hearing witness.  The officer had been recounting his high-speed pursuit of the defendant when he suddenly mentioned the defendant throwing a gun out his car window.  A gun the officer said he’d later recovered but was never mentioned in any of the police reports in her file.  Apparently, the officer had written a supplemental report, but she’d never received it.  

Bryn tried to rub away the ache that hovered near her temples.  She could already hear the public defender’s melodramatic cries of incompetence, or even worse, conspiracy.  What a perfect ending to a disastrous day.

She’d started out the morning losing it in court and actually threatening Daniel Mays.  She could still recall the warmth of his body as she’d leaned toward him and—yes, she actually had done it—poked him just above the groin while she’d threatened to shred him.  Although she’d been livid, she’d still sensed his perverse satisfaction at making her lose control.  She’d also seen his eyes darken and his jaw clench when she’d touched him, and had felt an answering jolt in her own stomach.  

Jeez, she thought. What had she been thinking, touching him like that?  And just because he’d called her “pretty” during his closing argument?  

Mortified by her behavior, her only defense had been a quick retreat.  She spent the next forty minutes in the court’s deserted law library before Judge Lancaster’s clerk paged her.  For the next twenty minutes, she sat in court while the jurors read their “not guilty” verdicts, putting an end to her perfect conviction record.  As soon as the jury was released, she walked out of court, her nose in the air, while Mays finished up with his client.  Thankfully, she’d managed to make it through the afternoon’s pretrial conferences without incident before returning to her office to make some phone calls.