Bad Behavior(69)

Focus, Caroline!

Shit. What was the answer? Plea deal? I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to decipher the trick. There had to be a trick. Mr. Granade was too smart for a straightforward answer. Tricksy hot Hobbitses.

Mr. Granade's voice sliced through the worried silence. "Mr. Lynch. What's the correct answer?"

Terrell jerked to attention, though his pen was still poised over his notepad, empty save for his doodles.

"I, um, I would . . ." He drummed his pen on the pad, his dark eyes focusing on the movement as if the answer were there in the tap, tap, tap. I could almost hear the machinery spinning in his head. "I would try the case and bring the bank tellers as witnesses to refute the co-defendant's testimony?"

Terrell winced when his voice went up at the end of the last word. Answering a question with a question was never a good idea. Answering Mr. Granade that way? Epic fail.

Mr. Granade gave no sign whether the answer was correct or not. He simply barked out another name and went around the table. There were a variety of answers-some creative plea deals, some intense defense strategies with security footage and testimony. Yvonne had a pretty good idea about discrediting the co-defendant on the stand. Too bad she was wrong. And, also, still a skinny bitch.

He kept going, calling names and getting answers. I was glad he saved me for last, though I wondered whether it was on purpose.

"Ms. Montreat, our class clown." He said it with such derision. "What would you do?" His deep blue gaze settled on me, and my heart did that weird stutter-step thing. The same thing it did whenever I spotted a tub of my favorite-yet elusive-gelato.

"Nothing." My voice came out louder than I'd intended. Nerves.

The corners of his mouth quirked the slightest bit before he returned to his usual stony self. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," I continued, somehow breathless, as if I'd forgotten the overwhelming importance of respiration in the space of two seconds. "I would let the State try their case and I wouldn't do a thing."

Yvonne giggled. I wanted to cunt-punt her. Instead, I just kept my eyes on the prize. The prize was canting his head at me, seemingly intrigued.

"You wouldn't cross the State's star witness even though he's implicated your client in a Class A felony that will most certainly result in a hefty sentence?"

"I sure wouldn't." I leaned forward and put my elbows on the table, returning Mr. Granade's stare.

His dark brows rose, as if he were surprised by my boldness. You ain't seen nothing yet.

"And why is that, Ms. Montreat?"

Was that color rising over the impeccable collar of his dress shirt? A delightful pink hue on his tan skin? A thrill went through me at the thought of him reacting to me. It was highly inappropriate to have such a thought about my boss, so it fit me perfectly. "Because I wouldn't have to. There would be no need."

Yvonne laughed louder and stage-whispered to the associate at her elbow, "Now I see why she couldn't get into a first-tier law school."

The Yvonne cunt-punt went from being a "want" to gaining a spot on my mental to-do list. But Mr. Granade didn't seem to hear her. His gaze was still focused on me. "So, as I understand it, you would let the co-defendant destroy your client on the stand and you wouldn't do a thing about it. Then what?"



       
         
       
        

Exhilaration rushed through me and mixed with the fear that maybe I was wrong. Shit, what if I'm wrong? I shook the doubt away and continued, still holding Mr. Granade's eyes with my own. "I would do nothing until the State rested its case. Then I would move for a dismissal via judgment as a matter of law."

Yes, there it was. I definitely saw it this time-the hint of a smile. "And would that work, Ms. Montreat?"

"Yes." I was leaning so far forward that I knew the girls were on display. All the better to lure you with, my dear.

"Why?" He was leaning forward, too.

There was no one else in the room, no Terrell, and certainly no skinny bitch Yvonne. It was just me and Mr. Granade. The way I wanted it.

"Because the testimony of a co-conspirator can never be used as the sole basis for a conviction. The State failed to prove its case. I win by default." I couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my face. I just had that feeling, the one where you know you nailed it-like that kid in that meme doing the fist pump. I was that kid right then in all his ecstatic glory.

Mr. Granade blinked, as if remembering himself, and sat back. He scrubbed a hand along his perfectly smooth jaw and broke our eye contact. "Looks like the class clown wins it."