43 The Deal
The Deal
“We’re offering murder two,” Mitchell said.
Colton and I huddled over his phone on speaker, with Billy Ray leaning grimly against the wall. I didn’t fully grasp what the offer meant, but I knew it wasn’t good. I looked at Colton and shook my head furiously.
“Mr. Mitchell,” Colton said, nodding briefly for my benefit, “my client doesn’t—”
“She should take it, and you know it,” Mitchell said, cutting him off. “We have a pile of evidence against your client, and every day, we discover more. She’s led a shady life, to say the least, and her past is catching up with her. You know what that does to a jury.”
I cringed, fearing what else they might have uncovered.
“Then why offer a deal?” Colton asked, dipping his voice in honey. “Isn’t this an election year? The DA surely must want the win, doesn’t he?”
A brief pause. “Well, he’s concerned about putting someone like your client on death row. She’s no John Gacy. He’s worried he might—”
“Be seen as a murderer himself for putting this sweet girl on death row?” Colton chuckled. “And you know why? Because my client didn’t kill anyone.”
“Right,” Mitchell replied sarcastically.
“Your boss should be more interested in finding out who killed Winston Donovan than approving deals for innocent people.”
“Yeah, whatever. I’ve heard it all before.
Your client would be serving fifteen years, out in ten with good behavior.
She could still have a life to live.” He paused for a moment.
I felt a chill prickling my nape. “But if she’s found guilty for murder one, it’s the needle.
This is a capital case, Mr. Blake. You have no friends left to play on your side with this one. ”
I frowned, struggling to follow what the ADA was saying. What friends?
“Let me put you on a brief hold and consult with my client,” Colton said, then pressed the mute button without waiting for an answer. “What do you think?” he asked me.
“Absolutely not,” I said, sounding stronger than I was. Braver. “I didn’t kill anyone, and I won’t do any time for it.”
Colton tapped the mute button. “Sorry, Mr. Mitchell, no deal.”
“Voluntary manslaughter, ten years,” he countered, and Colton grinned widely.
He looked at me, and I shook my head vigorously.
No, I mouthed. He raised his thumb.
“No dice, Mr. Mitchell. See you in court.” He ended the call and exhaled loudly, smiling.
“Son of a bitch,” Billy Ray muttered under his breath. “I’d like his momma to do time for shit she didn’t do.”
I stared at Colton in disbelief. Why was he so excited? “Is this a good thing?”
Without warning, he swept me into his arms and spun me, the world blurring around us. My stomach dipped with the sudden lift, my body weightless, the rush of air brushing against my cheeks. For a second, I felt the wild, giddy sensation of being carried back to another time, another version of us.
“This is a great thing,” he said, his voice bright with triumph. “They’re afraid they might lose!”
My feet touched the ground again, the solid earth beneath me somehow feeling less steady than the air. My pulse still raced from the spin, from him, and I felt the memory of his arms—strong, familiar, and so heartbreakingly distant from everything between us now.
“But there is a huge risk, Hattie, that you need to understand. Life in prison, or the needle. Juries are unpredictable. If they find you guilty, they will—”
“So, let’s figure out how Claire did it, Colton! You can help me. You have an investigator, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because Claire would’ve needed a key card to access the floor.
We need to find out if she asked the reception desk for a card that day.
It would put her at the scene. They would’ve—maybe—issued that to her after checking her ID, after seeing she was Winston’s wife, and assuming her request for a card was legit.
Without a card, the elevator doesn’t go to that floor. ”
Colton scrutinized me. “You said you never went up . . . How do you know that?”
“That day, I didn’t go anywhere. I just stayed in my car, crying.”
“Why?” he asked, plunging his hands in his pockets and pacing the room slowly. “Why drive there if you weren’t going upstairs? And why were you crying? It still doesn’t add up.”
I sighed, knowing I had to tell him the truth if I wanted him to help me. “I wanted to give him his ring back, to break things off with him. But I knew it would break his heart, and I just couldn’t do it.”
“Yes, I remember you told me you loved him.” His voice was dark, somber when he spoke the words. “But so, this is what I can’t understand. If you loved him, why break things off?”
Tears filled my eyes. I glanced at Billy Ray, then back at Colton. “I wish I could—”
“Enough of this, all right, Colton?” Billy Ray said. “You keep asking these questions, and she can’t take it anymore.”
My heart swelled for my little brother. He understood me more than Colton could ever begin to.
Colton shrugged and turned to leave. “We have two days until we’re due in court. I need to get back to work.”
I clasped his hand, holding him back. “I know I didn’t do this! My only chance is to prove someone else did. I already know it’s Claire Donovan. Can we question her?”
Colton stared at me as if he thought I’d gone crazy. “I don’t think so. She’d slam the door in our faces.” He ran his hand through his hair, pulling rebel strands back off his forehead. “Well, unless we call her to testify.”
“Then let’s make sure she gets on the stand,” I said, my voice steady, but my pulse quickening.
A sharp breath filled my lungs, my chest tight with something that felt dangerously close to hope—a feeling I’d been too afraid to touch for so long.
My fingers curled against my thigh, restless with new energy, and my heart thudded with the sudden, wild possibility that maybe—just maybe—we could win this.
“She has every reason to throw you under the bus with her testimony. I am concerned. Are you sure you want to risk it?” he asked, his voice a loaded whisper that brought a shudder to my body.
“Yes,” I lied smoothly, sounding more confident than I was.
“What’s she going to say? That she was cheated on?
Everyone knows that.” My throat thickened as I said it, remembering how many other things Claire could say to hurt me.
“And let’s get that mall surveillance video that she used as her alibi. ”
“Okay,” he replied, suddenly looking very tired.
“I’ll file another motion for discovery today.
They’ll have to send it to us by tomorrow, or risk a continuance or sanctions, if Judge Antunez is in a bad mood.
I’ll request everything they have about Claire Donovan, and any other suspects they might’ve considered. ”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and put a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Colton. You’re saving my life. You know that, don’t you?”
He nodded, his eyes glued to the floor. I pulled away, a bit uneasy.
He walked over to the dining room table and sat down in front of the pile of paperwork, then leaned his forehead into his hand.
I decided to spend some time on the patio, where I could gather my thoughts in silence and come up with a battle plan.
I had very little time left to figure out how Claire had killed Winston without leaving the mall.
“How about some coffee?” Billy Ray asked. “I’ll make a fresh pot.”
“Uh-huh,” Colton said. “Oh, and I need to put Billy Ray on the stand.”
That stopped me in my tracks. “What? Why?”
“There’s no background on you. You’re nobody here in Vegas, and juries convict people they know nothing about—people they don’t care about. He’ll have to testify.”
The thought of that sent an icy dread through me. It wasn’t rational; more like a premonition, and something I couldn’t explain.
Billy Ray came over and squeezed my shoulder. “It’s okay, sis. I’ll do it. Got nothin’ to hide.”
“Thanks,” I managed to whisper, terrified.
In only two days, my trial would start.
I wasn’t ready.