Henry sighs and leans back in his chair. “The hits keep coming.”
CHAPTER 45
After Ella Monroe dropped her live grenade—Jesse Duvall’s cell phone—Henry tasks Chris and Julia with some research. What are their legal obligations to turn over the phone to the prosecution? If they don’t hand it over, they’re potentially obstructing justice. But if they do turn it over, they’re potentially sealing their client’s fate. The phone could contain damning information. Also, simply delivering a device that everyone assumes the killer had taken could itself be incriminatory. Especially now that another victim’s phone, the Dairy Creamery manager’s, had been found hidden in the hospital room where Jesse had been treated.
Henry said he’d encountered the question before—a client handing over a murder weapon to an assistant public defender—but the law had been unclear at the time. He needs them to research whether there are any new legal precedents.
Julia taps away on her laptop, searching Westlaw for the answer. Chris separately searches the PD’s office intranet—a database of past research the office had performed on recurring legal issues.
“Hey,” he says, “you mind if I duck out for an hour or so tonight? I promised my parents I’d come for dinner. I can come back to the office after.”
Julia looks up from her screen. “Sure, and you don’t need to come back. I can take care of the research.”
“No, I don’t want to leave you hanging. I wouldn’t go, but it’s a weekly thing, they make a special meal and look forward to it.”
Julia smiles. “That’s so sweet. How about you text me after dinner and I’ll let you know if I need help? Really, it’s no problem.”
Chris nods his thanks.
The door opens and Bea, the busybody receptionist, appears. “Chris, you have a guest.”
Behind Bea stands none other than Chris’s girlfriend—or perhaps ex-girlfriend, he’s not so sure—Clare.
Chris stands, surprised, confused. There’s been radio silence between them, not a single text, since this morning.
“I’ll give you the room,” Julia says, offering Clare an insincere smile. Chris catches Bea giving Julia the eye as they shuffle out.
“Hey. What are you doing all the way out here? Is everything—”
“Are you insane?” Clare says.
“What do you mean? I don’t under—”
Clare cuts him off with a hand in the air.
“You’re part of the defense team for the ice cream store murders?”
Chris doesn’t answer.
“A friend told me they saw you in one of the news stories.” It sounds accusatory, like she expects he’ll deny it.
“So what? It’s my job.”
“You wanna lose your bar ticket?” She stares at him intently. When he doesn’t reply, she says, “It’s a conflict of interest, Chris.”
“I don’t see it that way.”
“Oh, you don’t?”
He shakes his head.
“There’s a crime alarmingly similar to the one your brother—your fugitive brother—is accused of committing, and you don’t think your client might want to suggest that maybe he’s the perpetrator?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Chris says. But his mind leaps to Mr. Nirvana’s post. He’s in New York, only a short car ride away from the crime scene. If the vlogger is Vince, any defense lawyer worth their salt would have a field day with it.
“Have you told your client? Have you told your boss?” Clare was top of their class, works at one of the best law firms in the world. And even though he hasn’t wanted to admit it to himself, she’s right about the conflict: his client might be better off if the defense blamed Chris’s own brother for the crime.
“That’s what I thought,” Clare says to his silence.
“I won’t let my brother’s case interfere with giving Jesse Duvall the best defense possible.”
“That’s what everyone who has a conflict says. That’s why the rules exist. You’re not in a position to assess the situation objectively.”
“What do you want, Clare? Are you working for the New Jersey bar now? Why are you even here?”
“I’m here because I care about you. I don’t want you to throw away your—”
“I can take care of myself.” He always has.
“You’ve put me in an awkward spot.”
“What are you talking about?”