Chapter 12
Laura
I scramble to get ready, mad at myself for staying up so late researching case law. But it paid off. The idea is risky, but it can help win De La Cruz’s impossible case.
I race into the office, clutching my files, and burst into his office. “Sir, I have an idea for the Pemberton case.”
De La Cruz peer at me over his reading glasses, one eyebrow raised. My cheeks flush under his scrutiny. “This better be good, Stevens. I don’t have time for nonsense today.”
I swallow hard and steady my nerves. Now or never. “We argue the illegal search violates not just Pemberton’s right to privacy, but his right to freely practice his religion. The police seized several religious artifacts along with the drugs.”
De La Cruz leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. My heart pounds so loudly I am sure he can hear it. After a long moment, he nods. “That’s...not bad, Stevens.Unconventional, but it just might create enough reasonable doubt for the jury.”
I relax as a smile creeps across my face. He likes the idea! I have taken a risk, and it paid off. Maybe this is the breakthrough I need to prove myself as more than just another assistant. Maybe, just maybe, De La Cruz will see I am capable of more. Growth and improvement—here I come!
The next few weeks fly by in a flurry of activity.
I throw myself into preparing for the Pemberton trial, working long hours to gather evidence and build our argument.
But instead of feeling overwhelmed like I have in the past, I thrive under the pressure.
Streamlining the process and delegating smaller tasks to the interns making the work seem less daunting.
When the trial starts, I was at De La Cruz’s side every step of the way. My suggestions and questions prove invaluable, and more than once I provide a key piece of evidence or insight that strengthened our case. We make a good team, playing off each other’s skills.
After the jury announces their verdict of “not guilty,” De La Cruz turns to me with a grin. “We make a heck of a duo, Stevens. This win is as much yours as it is mine. Drinks are on me tonight!”
I flush under the praise, hardly able to contain my joy.
The risks I’ve taken, the long hours, the setbacks and struggles along the way—they have all been worth it.
De La Cruz’s words echo in my mind, spurring me on to greater heights.
Growth and improvement—the future is mine for the taking.
I proved myself, and nothing seems out of reach.
What an adventure this is turning out to be!
The next day at work, I stride into the office with newfound confidence. My heels click decisively on the tiled floor as I make my way to De La Cruz’s office, a fresh mug of coffee in hand.
He looks up from his desk as I enter, surprise flickering in his eyes before a smile creeps across his face. “Well, good morning, Stevens. Aren’t we chipper today?”
I grin, setting the coffee down next to him. “I wanted to thank you again for the opportunity to help with the trial. It meant a lot, and I learned so much. If another challenging case comes up, I’d love to assist in a similar capacity.”
De La Cruz studies me for a moment, brow furrowing. I hold his gaze, refusing to back down or stammer like I might have in the past. He nods. “You more than proved yourself, Stevens. Consider yourself on the shortlist for any complicated cases in the future.”
“Wonderful,” I say, unable to tamp down my smile. After a slight hesitation, I add, “I was also hoping we might grab dinner again sometime, when we’re not quite so busy.”
Again he seems startled, though not displeased. Rubbing the back of his neck, he averts his eyes with a cough. “Yes, well, I enjoyed your company too, Stevens. Dinner would be...amenable.”
My grin widens as I go back toward the door. “Great. It’s a date, then. I’ll check your schedule and let you know when I’m free.”
With a jaunty wave, I step out of the office, closing the door behind me. I lean against it for a moment, eyes closing as I take a deep breath.
A couple of hours later, I am buried under a mountain of paperwork when he strides to my desk. “Stevens, I’ve got it. The missing piece of evidence we’ve been searching for.”
I jump up, heart pounding. “Really? What is it?”
“Come see for yourself.” He grabs my hand and tugs me to his office, shutting the door behind us. There on his desk are photos of the crime scene we’ve been scrutinizing, but these are taken from a different angle. And in one shot, partially hidden behind an overturned chair, is a glint of silver.
“A letter opener,” I breathe. “The murder weapon.”
De La Cruz grins. “Exactly. This is exactly what we needed to conclusively prove the wife’s guilt. You’ve done it again, Stevens!”
Before I can respond, he sweeps me into a hug, clutching me close.
I melt against him, intoxicated by his rare display of excitement and affection.
When he pulls back, we are both breathing hard, faces inches apart.
For a long moment, we simply stare at each other, the tension thick between us.
I lick my lips, watching his gaze drop to follow the movement.
He swallows, eyes darkening, and lean in. I close my eyes, heart pounding?—
The shrill ring of the phone on his desk shatters the moment.
We jump apart as if scalded, heat flooding my cheeks.
De La Cruz clears his throat and snatches up the phone, turning away to answer it.
I slip out the door on trembling legs, unsure whether to curse or bless the poor soul on the other end of that call.