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“There was nothing sexual between myself and Jennifer Wright,” Nelson breathes out. “It hurts my heart to know that she is dead. I still can’t believe someone pushed her down the stairs. It seems more of an accident than murder.”
“The evidence says it’s murder,” Richard says. “The good news is that the evidence against you being the one who committed that murder is circumstantial.”
“And yet I’m on trial,” Nelson states.
“Have you not once considered your wife as the killer?” Elsa says, apparently not ready to let this go.
“No I have not,” Nelson bites out, irritation in his voice. “She’s devastated by all of this.”
“And so she ran off to Vermont and left you to be devastated alone,” Elsa rebuttals. “Such love.”
“She was having a panic attack when she left for Vermont,” he claps back. “How could I not go after her?”
“Exactly,” Elsa says. “And she knew that. She knew that would get you arrested.”
“Kelli is going to take the stand, at the appropriate moment.” I interject. “I hope you’re certain that she will protect you as you’re protecting her. If not, we both lose this trial. Only I get to take the hit and move on. And you get to be thankful the death penalty no longer exists in New York.”
Nelson stands up. “I’m paying you to defend me, not destroy her.”
“You’re right,” I say, standing up as well, pressing my fingers to the conference table and leaning forward. “You’re paying me to defend you,” I say. “That means I find the killer or we put this decision in the hands of a jury that likely hates your guts.”
“I know the press hates me but that’s about selling papers. They have heard the evidence. I didn’t do this. They need to hear from me.”
Richard chimes in without standing up. “If you go on the stand, the prosecutor will highlight everything there is to hate about you. And in case you don’t see that clearly let me spell it out. You’re rich, good looking, and did I say rich? Oh, and your wife is hot and they think you still banged another chick, got her pregnant, and killed her.”
Nelson scowls at him. “The DNA links the baby to the boyfriend. What part of this do you people not understand?”
“I didn’t forget,” Richard says. “But as you’re being called a baby killer who fucked this woman, how likely is it that the jury forgets?”
“Then remind them,” he snaps, looking at me, a wild animal quality to his eyes. “Remind them.”
I arch a brow. “Anything you want to tell us?” I ask.
“Do your job.”
“Even if I get you off,” I say, “you still have to shut your eyes and sleep every night next to her.”
A guard pokes his head in the door. “Five-minute warning.”
“It’s time for court,” I say, heading for the door.
I exit the room and start walking down the hallway when Elsa joins me. “He’s covering for her.”
“I know,” I say.
“Why would anyone cover for someone who did such a hideous thing? What makes a man willing to do anything for a woman?”
I don’t answer, but I know firsthand, there’s no explaining what makes a woman a man’s everything. I’m living that experience. I just obviously chose my woman a hell of a lot better than Nelson Ward. Which means I’d better keep her. Which means I’d better get out my running shoes, because Cat isn’t done running.
Chapter twenty-six
Cat
The afternoon is a win for Reese. Every witness he calls plays his tune, and every witness the prosecution crosses fails to turn on Reese. When the courtroom adjourns, Reese sends me a text message: Meet me at the coffee shop in an hour.
I text back: I’ll work at the coffee shop and wait on you.
Right about that time, the crowd breaks and he’s staring at me. We both smile, and I swear my cheeks heat, as if the man just whispered naughty things in my ear. I give him a tiny nod and turn away before the cameras catch us. I melt into the hordes of people trying to get out of here, and it takes me ten minutes to get out of the courtroom. Once I’m outside, I hurry through the busy crowds swarming the New York streets, the chilly evening warmed by the pure volume of people.
