Indiscretions (25 page)

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Authors: Donna Hill

BOOK: Indiscretions
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“I have about an hour or so before I meet Charisse. I guess it would be all right. This one time,” she added by way of a warning. But to whom?

He smiled in relief.

“I'll follow you in my car,” she said, nearly breathless from the look he flashed her way.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“You went to dinner with him! Girl, have you lost your mind?” Charisse wailed in disbelief. Clad only in her underwear, she continued to wash the dishes that filled her sink, shaking her head as she rattled on. “You know every damn time you're alone with that man you lose it. And I mean that literally,” she teased in a pseudo-male voice, flashing Khendra an all-knowing look over her shoulder.

Khendra burst out laughing, then let go completely, allowing the pure joy of laughter to wash over her, lighting her spirit. She laughed so hard, tears ran down her cheeks and she started to hiccup.

“Cee Cee, hic, you're just the medicine, hic, I needed.” She wiped her face with a paper napkin that she picked up from the table, smudging her mascara in the process, and held it to her eyes until her giggles subsided. “But I must admit, you're absolutely right. I do lose it every time we're alone together. And it just seems to get better and better. Hic.” She doubled over in another fit of laughter.

“You got it bad, girl.” Charisse chuckled, wiping her hands on the yellow kitchen towel as she sat down opposite Khendra. “But seriously, what's happening with you two?”

Khendra sighed deeply, sniffed back the tears of merriment, lowered her eyes, then looked up. “Nothing,” she said in a bare whisper.

“Is that what you really want?”

“That's the way it has to be. It's just that simple.”

“Is it? Why won't you just,” she started holding up fingers as she went down the list, “one, admit that you're madly in love with this man, then tell him you love him; two, hear his side and forgive him; and three, walk off into the sunset so that you can stop torturing yourself and me? After you get him off this hook, of course.” Charisse leaned on her elbow and waited for an answer.

“It's so easy for you, Charisse,” she answered, getting up and spinning away from her seat, wrapping her arms around her slender waist. “I can't handle it. I've been hurt and betrayed by the people I love once too often. And anyway,” she said in a low voice, “I don't think he'd tell me anything now. Not after the…”

She turned to Charisse with hope in her eyes that Charisse would tell her something to allay her fears.

“Pride is a powerful thing, hon. But don't cut off your nose to spite your face.” Charisse frowned. “Did Sean mention anything to you about doing all of this to protect you in some way?”

“No.” Her heart pumped. “What did he say to you?”

“He just said he couldn't tell me everything, same reasons he couldn't tell you—for your own protection.”

Khendra's brow creased. “What in the world could he be talking about?”

“The only way you're going to find out is to ask him.”

Khendra twisted her lips into a fake smile. “Why are you so smart?”

“Somebody has to be in this outfit, or else we'd be up the you-know-what creek without a paddle.” She planted her hands on her full hips and gave Khendra a wide-eyed look, which cracked her up again.

“I'm going to crash out here on the sofa if you don't mind, Charisse,” Khendra said, removing the back cushions. “I'm beat.”

“Sure. There are some sheets and an extra pillow in the hall closet. Make yourself comfortable. The bathroom will be all yours in a minute.” Charisse padded off to the bathroom and turned on the shower. “Try to get some rest tonight, Khen,” she yelled over the rushing water. “You're going to need it.”

“I'll try,” she answered, more to herself than Charisse. Staring up at the ceiling after she had settled on the sofa, Khendra was filled with a mixture of hope and fear. Tomorrow was the last chance she had to get Sean off. Her only recourse was to call him to the stand, as much as she didn't want to. But she had no other choice.

She sighed: Things were going very well so far—almost too well. The thought left her with a very uncomfortable feeling.

Day 6

“Counselor, are you ready to proceed?” asked Judge Abramson.

“Yes, your honor. I'd like to call Sean Michaels to the stand.”

They had prepared him for his testimony when they met that morning. His story never wavered, and she was sure he would be able to convince the jury of his innocence. Sean was sworn in and took the stand.

Khendra stepped up to the witness box, placing her hand on the railing.

“Mr. Michaels, I want you to tell the court what happened on the night of your ex-wife's death.”

“I went to her apartment to see her, about ten o'clock. She said she needed money. When I arrived she was alone, dressed in this skimpy outfit. There was a line of cocaine on the table. I gave her the money, and I was going to leave.”

“Why didn't you?”

“She tried to come on to me.”

Khendra inwardly flinched, but she held her emotion in check. “And then what happened?”

“I pushed her away from me, and a planter filled with cocaine fell to the floor.”

“Why didn't you leave then, Mr. Michaels?”

“I tried. I was at the door when she threw some scissors at me. They stuck in the door.”

Khendra turned away from him and faced the jury as she spoke. “Tell the court what happened next.”

He folded his hands in front of him and took a breath. “I turned around, and she was coming at me. She had already scratched my face.” He stroked the side of his face as an afterthought. “Then as she lunged toward me, she must have slipped because I moved out of her way, and she crashed into the door. I was on the far side of the coat rack, and I couldn't reach it in time. It hit her.”

“What did you do then, Mr. Michaels?”

“At first I panicked. She was out cold, and she wasn't moving. Then I ran and got a cold cloth and put it to her head. She was bleeding.”

“Did she wake up?”

“No.”

“Then why didn't you call an ambulance?”

He hung his head. “I didn't think. I just wanted to get out of there. I knew that when she woke up it would just be another scene.”

“Mr. Michaels, to the best of your knowledge, was Carol Gordon-Michaels alive when you left her apartment?”

“Yes,” he stated emphatically. “I know she was. I didn't kill her. She was breathing.”

“Thank you, Mr. Michaels.” She gave him a brief smile. She turned toward the judge. “I have no other questions for the witness.”

Paul Gamer fastened the button on his jacket and stepped up to the witness box, carrying a small package in his hand. Khendra felt disaster spreading through her. She gripped the edge of the table and prayed.

“Now, Mr. Michaels, you stated that you went to see the victim to give her money. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Why were you giving your ex-wife money? Was it an alimony payment?”

“Something like that.”

“Just answer yes or no.”

“No.”

“Then would you explain to us why you were there to give her money.”

“She said she needed it.”

Gamer ran a hand across his cheek and turned to the jury. “I see. So you went to her house to give her money. How much was it?”

“A thousand,” he answered in a low voice.

“Could you repeat that?”

“A thousand dollars.” His stomach clenched.

“That's an awful lot of money to give to an ex-wife. You must have had some relationship.”

Chuckles wafted through the courtroom.

“Did she have reason to tell you why she needed money?”

“No, she did not.”

His voice rose throughout the court. “Could it be that she was blackmailing you, Mr. Michaels?” He turned and stared at Sean, waiting to pounce on him.

“Objection, your honor! Mr. Gamer is asking my client to provide a motive for the victim's actions.”

“Overruled. The defendant will answer the question.”

“I don't know.”

“Don't you? Well, I'd like you to take a look at these pictures and tell the court what they are.”

Khendra saw everything crumbling at once. She had to find a way to salvage this case before it was too late.

“Objection! Objection!” She jumped up from her seat. “The prosecution is entering evidence that we were not privy to before trial. I demand a mistrial, your honor, based on prosecutorial misconduct.” Her face registered stark outrage and icy fear.

“But your honor, this evidence was just brought to our attention minutes before the start of today's proceedings. We had no time to discuss this with counsel,” Gamer said in a patronizing tone. “I feel that these photos are very relevant to this case.”

“Objection overruled, and your request for a mistrial is denied. Please have a seat, counselor.”

Gamer puffed out his chest and laid out a series of photos showing Sean having lunch with, taking packages from and getting into a car with Leroy Gantz, one of the most notorious drug lords in the country.

Sean's heart pounded. For years he had dreaded this moment, and as much as he knew his innocence, these pictures were as damning as if what they reflected was accurate. He knew he was finished. Gamer now had his motive.

“They are pictures of me making drug transactions,” he finally replied in a low, tight voice.

An audible roar went up in the courtroom, and reporters raced out to nearby phones.

Khendra lowered her head.

The next twenty minutes of questioning were more ruinous than if Sean had confessed. Her hands were tied. All of her objections were overruled, and the courtroom was nearly in a state of pandemonium by the end of the day.

The assistant D.A. had questioned Sean about his marriage, his wife's drug addiction and the ensuing scandal of their divorce. Even though Khendra was able to redirect and have him explain what those pictures really meant, she was certain it was too late. She'd made a fatal error in not introducing this information herself through Sean's own testimony.

With no more evidence and no more witnesses to call, she rested her case with a heavy heart. Tomorrow she would have to make her summation, and it would take every iota of know-how and passion in her plea for his acquittal to undo the harm that had been done.

They stood silently in the parking lot facing each other each knowing what the other was thinking. Khendra was the first to speak.

“I'll do everything I can tomorrow. I think you know that,” she said softly.

“I know. We guessed wrong when we decided to put me on the stand. But things could still work our way.” His dark eyes looked at her, filled with hope.

She pressed her lips together and merely nodded her head. “I'd better be going. I have a long night ahead of me. It's not too late to make a deal with the D.A., you know.” It was a last-ditch effort, but she was desperate.

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