Blood in the Water(58)

Mindful of the guards and other visitors around them, they kept their voices low.

“And what happens down the line when some defense attorney workin’ for Valentine subpoenas the visitor records and pokes around?”

“Then I’ll have some explaining to do. However, I’ve been questioned before, and I know how to shade the truth with my own connotations. There’s a reason I make a lot of money.” Her mouth twisted. “And if I go down? Well, I deserve to be disbarred, anyway.”

“You don’t.”

“The Bar Association disagrees with you.”

“Because they’re idiots. How are you gonna explain my presence?”

“I’ll say you and Mr. Jessup have a common legal interest. Therefore, privilege still applies to the conversation we’re about to have.”

“And what’s our common interest?” The way she maneuvered the law fascinated him.

“Since you’re both criminals, the courts aren’t going to probe too deeply.”

Byron grimaced.

“What?”

“You were a touch rude again.”

“Sorry, but it’s true.”

“They can’t because of privilege, correct?”

“Ironically, yes.” She frowned. “Unless Mr. Jessup waives it.”

“Well, we’ll impress on him the importance of the situation.” Byron smirked.

“You’re not going to threaten him.” She whipped around to fix him with a stern look.

Hard not to find her ire a turn on.

“Oh, yeah?”

She stepped closer, poking him in the chest. “Yes, because he’s my client and under my protection, and if you interfere, you won’t like the consequences.”

It was the first time he’d ever found a threat adorable.

“Yes, ma’am.” Byron tossed off a salute, and she backed off.

Her bravado crumbled. “I’m trying to do the right thing. I know you don’t understand any of this, but once you hear about the case, you’ll change your mind. As Georgia says, it’s seriously hinky.”

“You’re right about one thing, I don’t get it. Ain’t you ever heard the axiom, ‘no good deed goes unpunished’?”

“I don’t care.”

Dear Lord, save me from do-gooders.

“Believe me, it isn’t quite a smoking gun, but I can spin it. Jessup’s only got a few days before his sentence is carried out. The Innocence Project is working to get him a stay of execution while they push for another trial.”

Byron had heard of the project. Lawyers around the country worked on cases where they believed justice hadn’t been served. It didn’t always mean the criminals were innocent. Sometimes a trial was mishandled. Other cases had no DNA tying the accused to the act.

“You really believe in this cause, don’t you?”

“Since 1973, nearly a hundred and fifty people have been exonerated who’d already been executed. Their deaths are black marks against the legal system, and their blood is on the state’s hands. If I can save this man, I’m going to do it.” Jane squared her shoulders. “I’m an officer of the court, and when I find a miscarriage of justice, I’m duty-bound to right it.”

Despite himself, he found her crusader nature appealing. They were polar opposites in so many ways, yet being around her made him feel…something. Content? At ease? He idly wondered if, together, they somehow balanced the scales. She was innately good, a heroine, and he’d always been a villain.

“Let’s do this, then.” Byron held up his hands and approached the guards.

Half an hour later, Jessup was brought to the meeting room. It was an antiseptic environment—overly bright fluorescent lights overhead, a stainless steel table and stools which were welded to the floor, greenish-blue tile lined the walls. The harsh smell of industrial-strength bleach burned his nostrils.

Jessup was a ragged-looking man—thin and missing two teeth. As he’d learned from his father’s situation, prison dental care wasn’t the best, and they’d probably yanked the fuckers out rather than fill them. His hair had gone prematurely gray, and his nails were bitten to the quick.

Victim—that was Byron’s assessment. Byron always sized up his opponents because anticipating another person’s actions had allowed him to live longer. He needed to know whether or not someone was a threat. This poor bastard didn’t have much fight left in him. Byron could tell by the drooped shoulders, the darting eyes. Jessup was a walking punching bag.

“Damn, but you’re a good-lookin’ woman.” Jessup eyed Jane like a piece of meat.

Byron gritted his teeth, mindful of the guards standing on the other side of the door. If they were on his territory, he would’ve handled this situation very differently. Most likely, the weasel would be on the ground, and Byron’s foot would be planted on his neck.