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“Thank you,” Reese says, dismissing her.
Wicker stands up. “Do you have a job right now?”
“Yes. I still manage the house.”
“Who pays you?” he asks.
“Dana.”
“So you really can’t call your boss a killer. That’s all,” he says and sits down.
Reese stands up. “Judge—”
“One question counselor.”
“Two. I need two.”
“Two. Not three.”
“Have you lied under oath today, Martina?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Then I ask again, do you believe Dana killed her father?”
“No, I do not.”
I breathe out in relief and Reese sits down. The prosecutor calls the first of five police officers, who were on the scene and have little to offer but gruesome bloody details of a dead man, meant to refocus the jury on blood and murder.
When finally, the court is adjourned, I believe it’s a good day for Reese and all the other drama feels secondary. The room hasn’t even cleared when Reese calls me, “I know you have to write your column. We’re coming to the apartment to recap the day. I’ll meet you at the apartment after I debrief with Dana.”
“Perfect,” I say. “It was a good day. You wiped the floor with Wicker.”
“It was—acceptable. No better. I’ll see you soon.”
I reach the exit to the courtroom and Royce is waiting on me right along with Lauren. “He was good,” she says. “Really good.”
I glance at Royce. “You told her I needed her.”
“You do,” Royce says, all stoically.
Lauren wraps her arm around me. “Of course you do. Friends need friends when weird stuff happens.”
She’s right, but the fact that she’s here because of that pregnant woman brings back every bad feeling I’d suppressed this afternoon. In turn, my stomach churns, which seems to indicate stress is impacting me in my current condition.
We start walking and I’m sandwiched between the two of them. “I thought I’d go to the doctor with you in the morning,” Lauren says. “What time is it at?”
“Seven.”
“Seven it is. Why wasn’t Martina Reese’s witness?”
“I asked that when I sat in on a prep session,” I say. “Dana was confident in her and Reese wanted Wicker overly confident with her.”
“Interesting strategy.”
“Reese has a lot of interesting strategies,” I say proudly.
We reach the exit and one of Royce’s men, Savage, opens the door for us, giving me a wink. “Cat Summer. The one that got away.”
