Chapter 63 Chapter 0063

Chapter 63 Chapter 0063
•SLOANE•

\[FIVE YEARS LATER\]

The jury had been out for forty minutes.

I sat at the defense table with my hands flat on the surface in front of me and watched the door at the far end of the courtroom.

My client, Marcus Webb, sat beside me with his tie loosened and his knee bouncing under the table.

"Stop that," I scoffed.

He stilled his knee. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize either. Just sit straight and don't look guilty."

He straightened up and cleared his throat. And after a few minutes, the door opened and the jury walked back in.

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" Judge Calloway asked.

The forewoman stood up. "We have, Your Honor."

"On the charge of criminal negligence resulting in the death of employee Daniel Forsythe, how does the jury find?"

"We find the defendant, Marcus Webb, not guilty."

Marcus exhaled beside me, a long shaking breath that he had probably been holding for eleven months.

The prosecution table sat quietly. I had dismantled their case piece by piece over four days, starting with the safety inspection report, and ending with the testimony of a maintenance worker whose name had appeared in the original police file and then disappeared from every document the prosecution submitted.

"Thank you," Marcus breathed, gripping my hand with both of his. His eyes were wet. "I don't know how to—"

"You already paid me," I answered as I stood up to gather my files."So there's no need to thank me, Mr. Webb. I did my job as your lawyer."

"I know," he sighed. "But I wouldn't be going home to my children and my sick wife if it weren't for you." He paused. "Nora has stage 2 breast cancer and would've lost all hope to fight it if I got locked down."

I turned to him and placed my hand on top of his. "You may go home now, Mr. Webb. Your wife needs you now more than ever, and don't worry, she will be alright. I know she has the capability to fight this."

He nodded and smiled at me. He then turned around and walked out. I took a short moment to breathe before I walked out as well and went to my car.

•••

Joel was already at the bar when I arrived, he had taken off his jacket off and rolled up his sleeves. And he looked happy when he saw me approaching the table.

"The great Sloane Vale," he said when I sat down. "Not even a smile for the occasion."

"I had been smiling ever since Marcus went home as a free man," I groaned, rolling my eyes.

"That doesn't count." He pushed a glass toward me. "I ordered you the same thing I'm having. If you hate it, you can order something else."

I tasted it. Whiskey sour. Acceptable.

"You were brutal in there today." He looked at me. "That redirect on the prosecution's forensic accountant was genuinely painful to watch."

"He contradicted himself on page forty-one of his own report. I just pointed it out."

"Three times."

"He kept forgetting."

Joel laughed and ordered another round before the first was finished.

He was a good lawyer and a decent person, which in this profession was a combination rare enough to be worth keeping around.

We had been colleagues for three years and had never crossed any line that would make either of us uncomfortable, which was another thing worth preserving.

I finished my drink and excused myself.

The bathroom was at the back of the bar, past the pool tables and a group of men watching a game on the mounted screen. I washed my hands and looked at myself in the mirror for a moment.

My 30th birthday was approaching in a few weeks, and for the first time in a long time, I released a sigh of relief.

I didn't regret my decision to change my name and start over. I had worked so hard to be where I was, that I kept praying that nothing would ruin it for me.

I pushed through the bathroom door and nearly walked into a man who was standing outside the door.

He turned to me and exhaled. "Miss Vale."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "You have three seconds to explain how you know my name before I walk away."

"My name is Garrett Moss," he replied. "I am here on behalf of a client who requires immediate legal representation. The situation is time-sensitive."

"Call my office on Monday morning if you need my help," I answered. "I am off on weekends." I attempted to walk past him, but he stepped in front of me.

"My client is willing to offer you one million dollars as payment," he answered. "The full amount, upfront, transferred before you even review the case files."

I looked at him. "What kind of case?"

"A business deal that collapsed. There are allegations of fraud and breach of contract. My client maintains they are entirely without merit."

"Who is the opposing party?"

"A former business partner. The details are in the file." He held out a card. "My client would like to meet tomorrow morning if you're available."

I took the card, and not because of the money, but because of how urgent it sounded. Those cases were my playground. There wasn't any fun in mediocre cases.

Those cases were the only ones that could take my mind off the locket aorund my neck, and stop me from thinking too much about my next possible death.

I had wanted to take the locket off my neck multiple times, but I couldn't.

It was the only thing I had left of my mother.

"Send the preliminary file to my office tonight," I answered. "I'll review it and confirm by nine a.m."

He nodded and stepped aside.

I went back to the bar and found Joel paying our bill. He was already tipsy when we went to my car.

I dropped him off and went to my apartment. My cell phone chimed after closing the front door and I saw Garrett's name on the email.

I read it at my kitchen table with my second whiskey of the evening and my shoes off.

The case wasn't as complex as I thought it was. I would be dealing with a dissolved partnership where one party was accusing the other party of misusing finances that were agreed upon when they signed the contract.

The client was defending themselves against a lawsuit from the other party because they felt that they didn't misuse any funds.

My first thought was that the client was guilty, which was why they were willing to pay me a million dollars to prevent them from losing a lawsuit of twenty-five million dollars.

The client's name was listed only as T. H, with a spouse listed as a co-claimant.

•••

The address Garrett Moss had sent was a private meeting room in a hotel downtown, and I was two minutes early.

I set my bag down and opened my notebook.

The door opened behind me, and when I turned around to see the client, my father, Tank Hale, walked in with Valerie.