Trouble in Paradise - Марша Кларк

Book 2.5 in the Rachel Knight series, 2013

“Counsel, you’d better listen up because I’m not going to repeat myself.” Judge Schoen’s trademark glare took in all of us as she waited for the hubbub to die down. Within seconds, the courtroom fell silent and the lawyers who’d been milling around the prosecution counsel table came to attention. “I’m taking a fifteen-minute recess, no more, no less. When I come back you’ll be ready with either trial dates or deals. Or else…” She banged her gavel and stomped off the bench. The low hum of activity immediately rose to a semi-roar. Chuck Overmeyer, a veteran public defender and one of my favorite worthy adversaries, gave me the well-practiced smile that had won more than its fair share of verdicts.

“Come on, Rachel. Let my guy plead to one count. You know you need him. He’s the perfect eyewitness-”

“With a rap sheet long enough to bury a mummy in,” I said.

“Hey, you know what they say: when you commit crimes in hell, you don’t get angels for witnesses.”

I rolled my eyes even though I’d used the bromide myself. All of us prosecutors had to fall back on it eventually. In the Los Angeles County District Attorney’s Office, it didn’t matter what area or unit you were assigned to; at some point you were going to wind up with a witness who’d garnered a passel of fleas by lying down with too many dogs.

But I had to smile. Chuck was a hell of a salesman. And it was true that his small-time crook of a client had the kind of self-deprecating charm juries love-not to mention a bird’s-eye view of the murder I had to prove. “Fine,” I said. “But if he backs up on me on the witness stand, gives me any grief whatsoever, I’m putting all four of his burglary counts back on the table.”

Chuck nodded eagerly. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Yes, you would.” We exchanged a smile. “Go get your guy ready. I’ll tell the clerk to call our case.”

Chuck thanked me, then headed for the lockup.

Thanks to the judges, who’d refused to let the lawyers push all their December cases into January, this was my only trial for the entire month. With Chuck’s case off the table, I had three gloriously open weeks just begging to be turned into a much-needed vacation. So I called Graden Hales, the lieutenant of LAPD’s elite Robbery-Homicide Division-and, more important, my boyfriend-to see if he could get away. He couldn’t, but he came up with a suggestion for me and my besties, fellow Special Trials prosecutor Toni LaCollier and Robbery-Homicide detective Bailey Keller, that sounded fabulous. At least, it did to me.