Chicks, Man

Connor shrugs, keeping his cool. “I was hired as a first-year law associate.”

“You were hired or you scammed your way into—”

“Objection!” their defense team calls out. “Leading. He answered the question.”

Justin waves it off. “I’ll rephrase. What level of expertise would you consider yourself in information security hacking—”

“Objection. Hearsay. My client has never—”

“He has a full confession on record,” Justin points out, knowing it can’t stand up in court.

“That was thrown out. It has no standing in this case.”

Judge Foster slams on his gavel. “Mr. West, please get to the question.”

“Mr. Connor, how long would it take to hack into a company system?” Before his lawyer has a chance to object, Connor replies.

“Under five minutes.”

Got you. I mark that up as a point for us as the defense huffs, taking the floor.

“Mr. Miller, what was your relationship with Hannah Matthews?” the defense begins.

The hair on the back of my neck stands up. The defense attorney makes his way across the room and stands next to the jury, awaiting Connor’s reply.

“She was my girlfriend.”

“That’s bullshit!” Kip goes off again, and the judge loses his patience.

“Security, I want that young man removed from my courtroom.” Neither Jim nor I move to look behind us.

“All right. I’m going. Get your fucking hands off me.” A few quick moments, and the door to the courtroom slams shut.

“Continue.”

“Mr. Miller, how long were you and Miss Matthews intimate?”

“Quickly after she started. She became very interested in me and my side of the business. We spent a lot of time together. Before I knew it, she was throwing herself at—”

“Objection!” I fly out of my seat. “Relevancy. This doesn’t have anything to do with—”

Jim grabs my bicep and tugs me back down.

“Mr. Dent, you are not the head counsel in this trial. I suggest you mind your place, or you, too, will be removed. Continue, counsel,” Judge Foster reprehends me, and I sit, trying to slow my breathing.

“As I was saying, their relationship has everything to do with it, your honor. It’s important the jury understands the persuasive relationship they had and how Miss Matthews conjured up the whole plan to—”

“Watch it,” I growl back, shooting back up, slamming my hands on the table.

Judge Foster slams his gavel down. “Mr. Dent,” he warns. Jim grabs my hand, and I sit back down.

The defense, wearing a snarky smile, continues. “Mr. Miller, can you explain the first time Miss Matthews approached you about the Miller case?”

Connor sits a bit straighter, his facial expression morphing into a sad puppy dog. “The first time she approached me was at lunch. It was the first time she asked me out.”

Fucking liar. The first time they went to lunch. It was him.

“And can you tell the jury what you two talked about?”

He turns to the jury. “She asked me to help her destroy files for the Miller case.”

“Can you please state your name for the record?”

“Hannah Constance Matthews.” Hannah’s focus is directly on the defense as she replies, and I find solace in knowing the middle name is meant for me. A silent understanding telling me she’s okay.

The defense rounds his table and strolls over to the jury. “And, Miss Matthews, can you tell the jury your relationship to Matthews and Associates?”

Her smile is kind and genuine when her eyes find her father’s. “It’s my dad’s law firm. He built it from the ground up.”

“And you were employed there only because your daddy own—”

“Objection. Badgering.”

The defense attorney puts his hand out before the judge speaks. “I’ll rephrase. You were also an employee, correct?”

“I was. I was hired as a paralegal. I don’t have my actual law degree yet, so I wasn’t able to—”

“Thank you, Miss Matthews. Being a paralegal, would that give you access to confidential files? Security access to private files, let’s say?”

Hannah nods. “Yes, it was part of my job to type and file everything my boss worked on.”

“So, it’s possible if you were working on a case, let’s say Miller Industries, you could tamper with files if you wanted to?”

Hannah keeps her composure when responding. “I could. But I—”

“And let’s say if you were upset over something, maybe rejected advances, you could see yourself tampering—”

“Objection!” Justin throws his hand in the air. “Leading!”

That son of a bitch. I’m fuming. How dare he turn this around, making Hannah look like the bad guy. Even Jim beside me is buzzing with fury.

Judge Foster speaks. “Sustained. Get to the question, counsel.”

“Miss Matthews, did you make sexual advances toward Mr. Miller in order to coerce him to kill Clara Hill?”

“And then what did you do when Mrs. Hill opened the door?”

Connor’s defense team is working relentlessly to suggest Hannah killed Clara Hill. They’re holding a convincing testimony, which is making me sick to my stomach. Until Connor takes the stand and blows their case out of the water.