Blood Defense | страница 11



She had a skeptical look. “That’s a pretty sad tale of woe. You check it out?”

“No. Why would he lie?” I shot her a dagger. “Of course I checked it out.”

Michelle paused for a moment, then nodded and turned back to her computer. “Okay, back to work. Get me your time sheets on Ringer. One way or another, he’ll be done soon.”

I saluted and headed into my office. My office decor is best described as early “I don’t give a damn,” because I don’t. Plus, there’s no one to impress. My clients are almost always in custody. Most of my cases are court appointments-basically public defender cases that the public defender can’t take for one reason or another. So I have the minimum: a big desk and lawyer’s chair (I scored them on the cheap at a storage locker sale) and a couple of unmatched chairs in front of my desk that sit lower than mine (so I can look imposing). The only thing on my desk other than my computer is a bottle of tequila shaped like a skull-a present from a former boyfriend-and a little jade “money tree” with tiny gold-colored bells hanging from the branches. Michelle gave it to me for inspiration. It hasn’t done much for us so far.

I spent the rest of the afternoon pulling together the paperwork for Michelle and working up the cases that I probably wouldn’t be able to plead out. Alex showed up at six o’clock. He looks nothing like any real-life investigator I’ve ever seen. But Hollywood would cast him in a hot second: thick black hair swept to the side, olive skin, and eyes like black diamonds. It’d broken Michelle’s heart when I told her he was gay. But she knew better than to argue; my gay-dar almost never fails me-and it hadn’t this time, either.

I walked out to the anteroom. “You don’t look joyous. No luck on those records?”

He shook his head.

“Look, don’t sweat it. If you can’t, you can’t. We’ll just have to-”

“Oh, I can.” His tone was calm, utterly self-assured. “It’ll just take a little more time. When’s Deshawn’s hearing?”

I liked his confidence. And I knew it was justified. It was only a fluke that he’d been caught stealing those BMWs. He was that good. Which was why I’d been able to make him a sweetheart deal for no time and straight probation: he’d agreed to show the cops how he’d done it. “His hearing’s set for next week.”

Alex made a poof sound. “I’ll have it for you in two days.” He gestured to the monitor of Michelle’s desktop, which was splashed with the latest headline on the double murder in Laurel Canyon. “They’ve been thumping Chloe’s and Paige’s murders nonstop.”