Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Once we land in New York City, we head straight to the office where Cole, Alex, and Reese hang out behind closed doors. I, in turn, sit down at Ashley’s desk and look for clues I know I shouldn’t look for. She’s gone now. She’s safe. I have to accept that. I find only one thing that feels significant. A piece of paper where she’s scribbled over and over: Why? Why? Why? I pray she has those answers now, that she at least has that peace of mind, even if the answers aren’t good answers. Maybe the man she loved really did love her.
With the party Saturday night, and Alex here now, I call my mother and arrange breakfast for Saturday morning at her new place. I then call a temp service and line up interviews to replace Ashley for Monday. I deliver this news to Maria, who arches a brow. “What happened to Ashley?”
“The relocation wasn’t the right one for her,” I say cautiously. “Which I hate, but we’ll suffer through it.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but I don’t give her a chance to ask more questions. I grab all of Cole’s messages and head back to his office, where I weed through the ones I can handle, and pull out the ones I know he needs to deal with today. Next, I sit down at his conference table and go through the caseload his team is handling and look for the red flags he needs to address. Most of the staff is gone when Cole walks into the office. “Alex and Reese just left for dinner alone. They need to make sure they connect one-on-one.”
“How do you feel about it?” I ask as he sits down next to me.
“Like it’s magic. This is what we need. He’ll take Houston to the places I would have had I stayed, which means taking on the state of Texas and beyond.”
His office phone buzzes. “Cole.”
“Yes, Julia?” he says to the receptionist.
“There’s a woman here asking for Lori, but ah—I think you both need to come here—” She lowers her voice. “Now. Come now.”
Both of our eyes go wide and we’re on our feet in two flat seconds. We cross the office side by side. “Do you think it’s a reporter over the Roger thing? Or maybe a reporter that found out I met with the DA?”
“A reporter wouldn’t surprise me,” he agrees.
We reach the lobby and find Julia standing, waiting on us. “She’s in the conference room. She says she needs immediate representation and she’s got blood down her neck. I don’t think she knows. Do you want me to call the police?”
I look at Cole, a question in my eyes. “We’ll call the police,” he says. “Just not yet.” He looks at Julia. “We’ll handle it.” He eyes me. “Let’s go talk to her. We’ll call the police with her, regardless of whether we represent her or not.”
I nod and we round the reception desk and walk down a hallway to enter the conference room. The woman is facing the window but turns at our entry. She’s pretty, brunette, petite, mid-thirties—maybe forty—but her hair is a bit wild and her pink blouse is missing a button. Cole shuts the door. “I want to hire you, Lori,” she says, glancing at Cole and then me. “I need a woman. Only a woman can understand. I need client-attorney privilege.”
“We need to know the facts of the case,” Cole says, “and we need to know before we commit to represent you.”
She cuts her gaze and when she looks at us again, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m Jenna Reynolds. My husband is Mike Reynolds, as in the famous sportscaster. I killed him. He was hitting me again—again, he just—he hit me all the time and I didn’t mean to do it.” Her voice lifts on the final words. She sucks in air and exhales. “I grabbed for something to get him off me and I hit him. I don’t even know what it was. I just reached. His head—his head started—bleeding.” She yanks up her blouse and there’s massive bruising down her ribs, some yellow and some dark black, like she’s taken multiple beatings at random times. “There are plenty more. My back. My head, but you can’t see that. He hit me in places that no one would see.” She grabs the back of a chair. “I didn’t call the police. I saw Lori on TV. I saw her closing arguments. I need help. He’s powerful. He’s friends with the police commissioner. Please help.”
I step forward and press my hands to the chair across from her. “Why didn’t you leave him?”
“He threatened to ruin my mother, to bankrupt her, and I believed he would. She—she has investments and—he could have done worse, I believed that, too. She’s all I have.”