Paris is slowly getting used to her lawyer’s attack-style way of speaking, but Sonny Everly’s best quality is that he never tells her anything other than the truth. Elsie was right that the man is an absolute prick, but at least he’s Paris’s prick.
They still don’t have a trial date, and according to Sonny, it could be a year or more.
“A case this high profile, the prosecutor is in no rush,” Sonny says, packing up his briefcase. “They can’t afford to be sloppy.”
“Can’t we ask for a speedy trial?” she asks as she walks him to the door. “I don’t want be in limbo for a year.”
“So you want to get to prison faster?” Sonny says. “You don’t want a speedy trial, not with your situation. Anything can happen, and we can’t afford to be sloppy, either. In the meantime, go back to work. Have your friends over. Meditate. Get your nails done. Do whatever it is women like you do.”
“Women like me?” Paris sighs. “Every time I think I might actually like you, Sonny, you remind me why I don’t.”
He grins. “You’ll love me when you’re free. Trust me, okay? This ain’t my first rodeo.”
It ain’t Paris’s, either.
As soon as he opens the door, one of the photographers hanging around the house shouts out a question. “Hey Sonny! How does it feel to represent the woman who murdered the Prince of Poughkeepsie?”
“Don’t you cockroaches have anything better to do?” she hears her lawyer snap as he gets into his BMW. “Fuck off.”
In fairness, the photographers actually might not have anything better to do. Paris can relate. She didn’t realize how few friends she had until all this happened. Most of her social circle—if it could even be called that—had been Jimmy’s social circle, and other than Elsie, none of them have checked in.
Even Henry is keeping his distance now that he’s running the studio solo. She tried to go back to Ocean Breath to teach her six a.m. Sunrise Hatha class, but a crowd of gawkers had waited outside the front doors all morning. It had scared off the members and upset the other instructors.
Everywhere she went, photographers followed.
“Honey, I’m sorry,” Henry told her. “But as your partner, I have to tell you that you’re bad for business.”
Paris has never not worked, not since she finished high school, and she isn’t used to sitting around all day. At the moment, books and TV are her only companions. Interestingly, she isn’t overly concerned about Ruby at the moment. Paris being charged with Jimmy’s murder is actually helpful when it comes to her mother, because if she’s convicted, she’ll have no money to pay the blackmail. It’s in Ruby’s best interest that Paris is acquitted. As much as her mother might genuinely enjoy ruining Paris’s life by exposing the truth about Mae, ultimately, Ruby cares about herself more. And if there’s any hope of getting her money, Ruby will wait.
It feels like she’s watched everything on Netflix, Hulu, and Prime, so Paris switches to Quan, looking for anything different to take her mind off things. Under the category “TV Shows We Picked For You,” she sees The Prince of Poughkeepsie, and smiles. They have all ten seasons, which was part of the deal Jimmy made with them. She keeps scrolling, and then stops when she sees they’ve added a new show.
Except it’s not new. Just like its counterparts Dateline and 20/20, Murderers has been around a long time. It used to air back when she was in high school, and there’s obviously no shortage of killers, because they’re still making new episodes today. Each hour-long installment is a dramatic reenactment of a real-life murder case, and eight seasons of the thirty-year-old show are now streaming on Quan.
Paris has watched Murderers exactly once. Surely they won’t have the Ruby Reyes episode.
The night it first aired, the boys were already in bed. Tita Flora had switched shifts at the hospital so she’d be home to watch it. Tito Micky made popcorn. Even Lola Celia, who was normally in her room by nine, had stayed up and was settled in her rocking chair when the show’s cheesy opening theme song began to play.
Joey sat on the floor of the living room, her back against the wall. When the narrator announced the episode in his ominous voice with its slow, dramatic cadence, it was nothing short of surreal. “Tonight … Murderers presents … ‘Ruby Reyes … The Ice Queen Cometh.’”
Right off the bat, her aunt and grandmother did not approve of the actress who was selected to play the Ice Queen.