All Work, Let's Play, page 6
“I won’t let that happen, Mr. Newman. I’m working hard to get everything you’ll need to win for Mr. Dunbar. And I guess you can call me Gage. You make ‘Mr. Archer’ sound stuffy and old.” He chuckles a bit at that.
“Why are you still awake?” he asks, throwing the question back at me. I know I look awful by how he’s running his eyes over my face. My eyes are probably bloodshot and my face is probably drawn and haggard looking.
I rub my hand over the back of my neck, trying to work out the kinks. “I have to get this done. It’s important that it’s done right and thoroughly.”
“Why is it so important to you? You always work hard, but I’ve never seen you like this.”
I cough, trying to buy myself some time. How much do I want to tell him? I can give him an overview. I won’t have to go into detail. I can’t. It’s not about me right now. It’s about Mr. Dunbar and Tyler.
“I was in the system. Until I was fifteen and was adopted by my last foster family, the Archers. I was subjected to some abuse in the homes I was in. I think what Mr. Dunbar tried to do was admirable, wanting to help. Even if he wasn’t successful and things took a tragic turn. He tried. And if he was attacked and acted in self-defense, he deserves to be out of jail and with his family.”
Mr. Newman, to his credit, doesn’t give me a pitying look, but his eyes are filled with sadness. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry you went through that. And I understand why you’re trying to work so hard. Had I known, I wouldn’t have asked you to come. This must be extremely triggering.”
“It is, but it helps. Knowing I’m working for a good person. I wish he weren’t in a position where he had to take anyone’s life, but he was doing what he thought best. When emotions are involved, you don’t tend to think clearly. I’m sure if he could go back, he would have called the police first.”
“I agree, Gage.” I raise my eyebrows in surprise. I didn’t think he would call me by my first name, even though I said he could. I’m further shocked when he says, “And please, call me Caleb. Officially.” He gives me a sardonic smile. I laugh lightly and incline my head. I look back at my notepad and rub my tired eyes. I need sleep, but I need to finish this research more.
“Here,” Caleb reaches his hand out to my notepad. “Let me finish. I did legal research back in law school. I still remember how it’s done.”
I place the notepad in his hand and give him instructions. “Look for the case summary for this one and then the discovery for this one. I want to consolidate so I can come up with a coherent—”
“Gage,” he says my name lazily and it feels like a caress over my tired skin. I shiver, then shake myself. What am I thinking? “I can handle it. Don’t worry. You can check my work tomorrow. Now go.” He stands to walk to the bookshelves, which was to be my next stop after I finished typing my research notes. “Sleep as long as you’d like. We’ll have a late start tomorrow.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me. I drag my tired bones up the stairs and collapse on my bed without taking my clothes off. I’m asleep before I can pull the blanket over my legs.
Chapter Seven
The next day is nerve-wracking. It’s the last day before we go before the judge and ask to start jury selection and, hopefully, the trial. I’m checking and double checking my research to make sure it’s correct, checking and double-checking documents I gave to Max and Caleb, checking and double checking my bag to make sure I have everything packed. Max and Caleb aren’t doing any better. Caleb’s curls are in disarray from how many times he’s run his hands over it and Max’s temper with me is even shorter than it usually is. Twice he’s snapped at me and the only reason I haven’t said anything is that I know he’s under a lot of pressure, this being his first high-profile case and all.
At nine that night, Caleb tells us to go to bed, as we are due in court early the next morning. “There’s nothing else we can do now. If we’re not ready, I don’t think we’ll ever be.”
He’s right. We’ve done all we can and prepared as much as possible. I pack my things and hurry upstairs. I want to get a shower before Max, so I can climb into bed and knock out. He takes forever in there. The quicker I get in and out, the quicker I can get to bed. The past few days have been late night and early mornings and I’m starting to feel it.
Stepping under the shower spray is like stepping under a tropical waterfall. It soothes my aching neck muscles from being bent over my notes and a computer since we got here. My back muscles unbunch and relax, letting me know how much tension I’ve been carrying over the past few days. I tilt my head back and let the water run over my head and relax me further. Tomorrow is going to be a hard day for Mr. Dunbar and his family if he can’t get bail. I need to relax as much as possible until then. I can’t stress when there’s nothing to stress about. My research is impeccable, the best I've ever done, so I have a feeling it won’t be too bad tomorrow. At least I hope so.
I step out of the shower and wrap one of those fluffy towels around my waist and snap up my clothes from the floor. I walk into my room and feel the goosebumps raise from my damp skin as the air conditioning hits me. I suppress a shiver and I’m reminded of how I felt when Caleb said my name last night. The same shiver spread over my skin and raced down my spine. I still can’t figure out what it means. I’ve never felt anything like it in my life when someone said my name.
Sitting down on the side of the bed, I push my reaction to the back of my mind. I look for my phone to call Candice to check on her, then remember I left it in the bathroom. I hear the shower running and know Max is in there now. By the time he gets out, I’ll probably already be asleep. I inhale deeply and decide to tiptoe in there to get my phone. The bathroom counter is a fair distance from my door, but if I go in and out quickly, he won’t notice me. I could announce myself, but I don’t want any more of his attitude this evening. I’m too tired.
I put on a pair of sweatpants and walk to the bathroom door, sneaking in as quietly as possible. I’m hoping he’s facing the opposite showerhead, the one to the back of the shower and won’t spot me. I shoot a quick glance in that direction and see that he is. I dart to the counter and scoop up my phone but stop when I hear my name. My head is down, trying to look as small as I can when I hear, “Fuck, Gage.”
I whip my head up in the direction of the shower again, thinking he spotted me walking in. An apology is on the tip of my tongue when it gets stuck in my throat. Max’s head is thrown back, almost under the shower spray, still facing the opposite direction. Then I see. His hand is moving quickly back and forth over what I can only guess is a straining erection. Max is jerking off, thinking about me!
Completely forgetting I’m not supposed to be in here, I gasp and the sound carries. Max whips his head around and his eyes widen. My eyes drop to his hand involuntarily and I swallow roughly. His hand still hasn’t stopped moving over his dick, even though he sees me. I flick my eyes back to his and after one more firm tug, he comes all over his hand, still watching me with wide eyes, even though they’re slightly hooded and brimming with need.
Squeaking out an apology, I leave the bathroom as quickly as possible. I pull the door roughly closed behind me and clamber in bed, the phone call to Candice forgotten. What the fuck? Max was imagining me when he was getting himself off? What does that mean? Why would he? Is Max gay? I can’t answer any of those questions and I have a question for myself. How did I feel about it? I drag my hand down my body to my hard cock and know the answer. Definitely a turn-on. But why? And what does that say about me?
When I wake the next morning, I’m a ball of nerves. I thought Max would storm into my room to confront me about walking in on him. After an hour passed of him not bursting into my room to beat my ass, I go to sleep. I toss and turn the whole night, stressed about the case and about looking Max in the eyes. I tell myself not to make it weird, to act like it didn’t happen. Ignore him unless he says something directly to me about work or research.
With that plan firmly in place, I get dressed and grab my messenger bag to go down to the kitchen. Jeanie probably made us something quick, as we told her we had to be out early in the morning.
Max and Caleb are standing in the foyer, Caleb with two travel mugs in his hands. My eyes drift over to Max and his jaw clenches. Yep, definitely a good idea to pretend like nothing happened. Like I didn’t walk in on him stroking what I remember to be a rather large, perfectly proportioned cock to whatever I was doing to him in his fantasy. I smirk at the memory and he must read it because he narrows his eyes at me and turns away.
I shake my head and look at Caleb. He has a smirk on his face as well and his eyes do that roam over my body again. I feel my skin heat and brush my hand over the front of my suit. His eyes follow the movement before he looks at me. He gives me a smile, the first one I’ve seen directed at me in five years and I almost choke. I’ve gotten his sarcastic smirks, his sardonic grins, even his sinister quirks, but never a smile. One that reaches his eyes. My skin heats all over again and I drop my eyes.
“Good morning, Gage,” Caleb says in a smooth voice, like his simple stare hasn’t undone me. “Glad you’re ready to go. We can get there early and try to meet with Marcel before we start the preliminary trial. With any luck, we can petition the court to start the trial tomorrow. The sooner the better, yeah?” I nod my head, still not able to speak after my reaction to him.
“Let’s go, Gage,” Max says, full of sarcasm. I look at him and cock an eyebrow.
“After you, Mr. Streeter,” I retort, my first time calling me by his last name. He rolls his eyes at me and I smirk at his back. My eyes drift over to Caleb and I see him release a noiseless chuckle.
Caleb and Max keep up a steady stream of conversation about the case and I pull out one of the many stapled reports I’ve compiled. I go over case reports and police findings, highlighting certain key points Caleb can argue. Since this is just the preliminary hearing, all we’re doing is entering his plea and, hopefully, we can get a trial date set. Tomorrow might be pushing it, but the Commonwealth of Virginia is efficient. They already had twenty jurors and four alternates, so it would take no time to narrow down a jury. By the end of the week, we should be underway.
The courthouse is packed, everyone trying to get a glimpse of the man who murdered a father and son. The media has been painting them out to be innocent victims, helping to foster children and give them a better home. Caleb damn near threw his laptop on the floor when he read that passage to us from a news report he pulled up. No one dug deep enough to know that there was a complaint put against that same father-and-son duo by Tyler.
We’re led to the courtroom where we’re going to do our prelim and Caleb spots Sandra, Mr. Dunbar’s wife and their son, Tyler. If you didn’t know he was adopted, you’d think he was their biological son. He looks like a mix of them both. Same light skin as Sandra, but the bright eyes of Mr. Dunbar. Same silky hair as Sandra, but with the nose and ears of Mr. Dunbar. The resemblance is uncanny.
Caleb walks over and hugs Sandra. She shudders in his arms, a lone tear trailing down her face. “Thank you for being here, Caleb. Thank you for helping him.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else. Hey, son.” He lowers himself to his haunches and holds his hand out to Tyler. Tyler looks at Sandra, who nods her head, and he puts his hand in Caleb’s. “I’m going to work really hard to get your dad out, you hear me?”
Tyler nods and says, “Thank you, sir. I miss him.” My heart clenches. Such a sweet young man.
“These are my friends.” He points behind him and Max and I step closer. “Max is going to be sitting beside me with your dad and my good friend Gage will be sitting with you and your mom. Is that okay with you?”
The little boy swings his wide eyes between me and Max, then they settle on my face. I smile softly at him and he smiles back. He gives me a little wave and nods at Caleb, letting him know it’s okay if I sit with them. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he nodded. I look over at Max and his face is tight. I want to ask if he’s okay, but it’s Max. His face is always tight, so I disregard it.
Caleb stands and walks back to us. “I was thinking of asking for a judge trial instead of a jury trial so we can get started tomorrow.”
Max grabs his arm and shakes his head. “You’ll do him a disservice if you do that. The case will be over before it starts. Let’s be patient and go through the jury selection and trial. We have the research done and we have a strong case. Let’s take it to trial. No pleading, no judge trial. He’s only facing first-degree murder. No secondary charges. Prove his innocence, or at least self-defense, we’re golden. Stick to the plan, Caleb.”
The power in Max’s voice is new, different. He knows what he’s talking about and he speaks sense, sense that Caleb needs to hear. We have time and we have the research done. We can win this case if we’re smart.
He mulls it over, then bobs his head. Max gives his arm a light squeeze and steps back.
I scoot in to the bench beside Mr. Dunbar’s family and Max and Caleb sit behind us. I introduce myself to Sandra and give Tyler an overview of my job. I want him to trust us so he won’t be so worried about his dad and he won’t think that what happened was his fault. That it was okay for him to be honest about his trauma.
After twenty minutes, Mr. Dunbar is escorted in with prison garb on and I grit my teeth. They could have let him change before, but this isn’t the full trial, so of course he doesn’t have a suit. Sandra puts her hand over her mouth and a few tears drop and she pulls Tyler close to her. I reach over and rub her back and grip Tyler’s hand. He hangs on for dear life, almost cutting off circulation, but I don’t mind.
Max and Caleb make their way to the front of the courtroom and stand beside Mr. Dunbar. They confer for a minute and I see both lawyers nod.
The court is called to order and the judge begins. “In the matter of the Commonwealth of Virginia vs. Marcel Dunbar for the charge of two counts of first-degree murder, how do you plead?”
“Not guilty, Your Honor,” Caleb answers, entering Mr. Dunbar’s plea.
“Bail?” the judge asks, eyes boring into Caleb.
“The defense requests him to be released on his own recognizance.”
The prosecuting lawyer stands. “Your Honor, this is a murder trial. There should be no bail set.”
“My client,” Caleb says smoothly, “is not a flight risk. He’s willing to surrender his passport. He also doesn’t have a criminal past. He’s an upstanding citizen that—”
He’s cut off the prosecuting attorney, Mr. Wolfe if I remember correctly, who looks like a weasel with his lank brown hair, sharp nose and wrinkled suit. “Upstanding citizens don’t murder people in cold blood, Your Honor.”
Caleb’s face remains impassive, while Max looks ready to launch himself across the room. Tyler squeezes my hand and Sandra gasps in a breath. I squeeze her shoulder and rub the back of Tyler’s hand, trying to calm them through touch.
“Save it for the trial, Counselor.” The judge glares at the prosecutor who makes a show of looking repentant.
“As I was saying,” Caleb picks back up, “he’s a member of a fraternity, one that helps the underprivileged and he gives back to his community through outreach programs that help the youth.”
The judge takes off his glasses and taps them on his chin. “I typically would not grant bail for murder charges, but there are circumstances I would consider. Namely the adoption of your son, who is directly connected to this case. It would be in the best interest of his family that you be granted bail, to ease the trauma of this situation, Mr. Dunbar. I, too, work with underprivileged children and know how hard it is to be faced with unnecessary trauma. Bail is set at $500,000, cash or bond. Mr. Dunbar, you will surrender your passport and an ankle monitor will be affixed to you. Deputies will explain your curfew. Case is set for two weeks from today.”
“Your Honor, the defense requests trial begin immediately. We are prepared to start jury selection and open arguments within three days.”
The judge raises his eyebrows and looks at the prosecuting counsel. He shrugs, like he either doesn’t care or thinks it’s an open and shut case he’ll easily win. I vow to research harder than ever to wipe that smug smile off his face.
“Jury selection will begin tomorrow, trial the day after selection is complete. Agreeable to both parties?” Max and Caleb nod and the prosecuting attorney quirks his lips up and inclines his head. “It’s settled. Reconvene at eight am for jury selection. Next case.”
Mr. Dunbar stands and gives Caleb a hug and then hugs Sandra and Tyler. The prosecuting attorney walks across the aisle and Max steps in front of Caleb, like a bodyguard. The attorney smirks and looks over Max’s shoulder, which I’m sure wasn’t easy for him. He’s only about five-five on a good day. “I’ll submit my options for a plea in the morning.”
“Don’t,” Max says. “Please have your case prepared…sir.” The ‘sir’ sounds a lot like ‘bitch’. The attorney must hear it as well, because he flushes and storms off.
After Mr. Dunbar posts bail and we see him off, we journey back to the house. I’m exhausted and it’s barely noon. We waited for Mr. Dunbar to exit the jail and we were surrounded by the media. It took several minutes to extract ourselves from them, even after saying no comment a million times. I used my body to keep the microphones from Tyler’s face and Mr. Dunbar had his wife tucked tightly to his side. He had his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulder on the left side and Tyler’s on the right. We got the family safely in their vehicle and held the press back until they had driven off.
Walking into the house, I try to go straight to our office, but Max grabs my arm. I snatch out of his hold and he raises an eyebrow. “Chill, Gage. We’re not doing any more research. We only have jury selection tomorrow, so there’s not much we need to do. The day is ours.”
I look at Caleb and he agrees with a nod of his head.
