Friday, September 26
Jenna spent all of Friday at her computer, her mind on fire with ideas. She was barely able to shut off her mind long enough to sleep the previous night. It was as though the moment she stopped denying her attraction to Jackson, her writer’s block vanished.
Too bad she couldn’t put what she was thinking into a book for kids…
By the time Trista and Maureen arrived at half past five, Jenna had typed fifty pages of her first real novel. Though long since forgotten, she could now remember writing love stories of angst and woe when she was in high school – just not exactly to this precise level of spice. All her years of writing essays and legal briefs sucked the joy out of writing; the time spent on the simple prose of childrens’ books made her forget the pleasures of constructing a sentence so rich with meaning the reader might be compelled to read the passage again and again to uncover its hidden beauty. So lost was she in reacquainting herself with these old friends that she forgot they were even coming over until the front door opened. Truth be told, after all the steamy tension she was weaving into those opening passages, she was half-hoping Jackson would stop by for…well, anything.
“So how’s the Curious Kitty today, Jen?”
Jenna smiled and shut off the computer. “I wouldn’t know. I decided to try my hand at a real novel.”
“What happened to Children’s books being easier to write?”
“Let’s just say that I got some inspiration. Okay, now where should we start?”
Maureen handed Jenna a stack of file folders. “Read over these first. That should bring you up to speed the quickest. Also, see what you think of the prostitutes’ statements.”
Jenna cleared off her desk, though it didn’t stay clean for long. She spread out the contents of the first folder and pulled several packets of sticky tabs out of her drawer. Even though it had been a few years since she’d worked a case, she still remembered how to attack a case file. By seven o’clock, her head was spinning with details of the case and she was out of sticky notes.
It wasn’t looking good for Blaine.
Maureen stood and stretched with a loud yawn. “Whatcha think, lady?”
Jenna took off her reading glasses and set them on the stack of papers. “I don’t know. They don’t have much of a case, evidence-wise.” She stopped to rub her temples. “But cases are won with circumstantial evidence all the time.”
“Dammit, Jenna! Don’t you think we know that?”
“Trist, I just…”
“I need some air,” Trista cut her off and headed onto the back porch.
After she was out of earshot, Jenna asked, “Has she been like this all day?”
“Yep.” Maureen flopped down onto the couch. “This has got to be tough on her, but Jenna, she made me keep her on the case. I offered to pass this onto another partner at my firm, but she insisted that we take it. Damn, she’s stubborn.”
“Get used to it, Maureen. She’s been like that for as long as I’ve known her.”
“But why would she do this to herself? There are a lot of unflattering details in there I wouldn’t want to read about my boyfriend, if I had one. If it turns out he’s guilty, we’re gonna find it and she’ll know beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
“We can’t think that way right now.” Jenna stood and brought the file filled with depositions over to the couch where Maureen was sitting. “One of these statements isn’t adding up. Actually, most of them don’t add up. They’re all contradicting each other.”
“I noticed that, but I didn’t think anything of it. Hookers aren’t usually known for their attention to detail. Besides, even if there are holes in their stories, it won’t help our case. These women sleep with men for money, there isn’t much I can say that will make them seem less credible to the jury.”
Jenna rifled through the file until she found what she was looking for. “Keep in mind everything that you just told me and read this one.”
Maureen’s eyes narrowed as she read. “I think I see where you’re going with this, but tell me anyway. I like going along for the ride when your mind gets going.”
“This one has too much detail. This girl is giving dates, times, names…she’s saying too much. I’ve worked prostitution cases before, and I can tell you right now that this girl is no hooker.”
“Explain.”
“Language. Her grammar is just a little bit too perfect. This operation isn’t described as a high class escort service, but a back alley kind of thing. This girl doesn’t fit.”
“So she’s some spoiled rich kid who couldn’t hack it in business school and got cut off by her parents to teach her a lesson. What of it?”
“Okay, fine, that’s just a gut reaction right now. Let me interview her for five minutes and I can prove I’m right. We’ll revisit that point later. Look at the specific dates she’s named as the times she spoke with Blaine about it.”
“What did I miss?” Trista asked, closing the screen door behind her.
“I’m about to point out how I know Blaine is innocent of this.”
Trista arched an eyebrow, but remained silent.
“This one girl names specific dates, one in particular, she spoke with Blaine about a job. When she was asked if she was sure about the date she says, and I quote, ‘Of course I am certain. A girl does not often forget her birthday.”
Trista shook her head in frustration. “I don’t get it.”
Maureen tossed the file at her. “Reread the beginning of that deposition.”
They watched as Trista’s face turned a deep crimson. When she spoke, her voice was measured. “Son-of-a-bitch Let’s take a field trip down to the club. I need to talk to Blaine right now.”
© 2009, Sydney Katt. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use of content will result in dragon attacks.
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