vomiting, she realized in relief. All the great trial lawyers do it before a big case. He’s going to be just fine.
“I’ll just grab a seat in the back row, if you don’t mind,” she said, pulling out the oversize, tinted glasses she had brought with her in case Judge Taylor had caught a glimpse of her face on TV the day the news story about the appeal broke. “But I’ll be up there with you in spirit.”
“You’re the best,” Tony told her, giving her an unexpected hug. “Driscoll didn’t deserve you, and neither do I.”
Touched, she followed him into the courtroom, but when he proceeded to a row near the front, she hung back, settling into a seat right by the doors so that she could escape quickly if the judge began hurling expletives in her direction.
Then she sank low in her chair, fixed her glasses firmly in place and prepared to enjoy a little free entertainment, courtesy of the Jailor. It might not be as much fun as a hot date with Justin Russo, but it would be much, much safer.
Apparently Justin and his two associates were first on the docket, because they made their way directly to the defense table. To Suzannah’s dismay, her hot date seated himself in the chair usually reserved for the defendant, while the other two men sat in the counsel chairs.
This can’t be right, she told herself nervously. What if he’s a freaking ax-murderer? That’s worse than a lawyer!
The bailiff instructed everyone to rise, then announced that Judge Nathaniel Taylor would be presiding. Grateful for the distraction, Suzannah turned her attention to the massively built, wild-haired jurist who strode into the room, his black robes flapping. He seated himself without so much as a glance at the crowd that was watching him with a mixture of fear and anticipation, but she suspected that he was well aware of the effect he was having on them.
The man had made quite a name for himself in one short year on the bench. Passionate about his calendar of felony prosecutions, he reportedly brutalized any attorney who dared to appear before him unprepared or otherwise unprofessional. And according to some reports, he often berated them even if they had done absolutely nothing wrong. He had sent three lawyers to jail for contempt already—two assistant district attorneys and one defense attorney from a private firm. And he had sent countless others running to the restrooms with their stomachs tied in knots after a session with him.
Grateful that she was beyond his radar, Suzannah was still tempted to flee for her life, especially when the bailiff announced the first case for the morning: the People versus Justin Russo.
Okay, Judge Taylor, Suzannah insisted as she slunk down in her seat and tried to become invisible. I’m counting on you. Do what you do best. Lock up this creep and throw away the freaking key before he ends up stalking me.
After introductions were made, the defense attorneys and the prosecutor sat down, but Justin remained standing, shocking the courtroom by announcing in a loud voice, “I’d like to make a motion, Your Honor.”
Suzannah watched with fascinated dread. Maybe he really was going to get himself thrown into a jail cell.
Judge Taylor scowled. “Don’t you watch Court TV, Agent Russo? You don’t make motions. Your attorneys do.” Turning his blistering gaze to the lawyers, he instructed them, “Control your client. Or else.”
“Your Honor?” Justin walked around the counsel table and approached the bench. “That’s what my motion is about. I don’t want these gentlemen as my attorneys. I didn’t choose them and I’d like to fire them right away.”
“Is that so?” The judge’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Let me guess. You think that means we’re done here today? You just get to run around loose indefinitely while you find another lawyer? That’s not quite how it works.”
“I’ve already chosen another lawyer, sir,” Justin told him. “And she’s sitting right here, so we won’t lose any time at all.”
Oh, God…
Suzannah tried to believe that he couldn’t possibly be talking about her, but just to be safe she began calculating how quickly she could run for her life. The door to the hall was just a few yards from her seat. If only she could count on her legs not to buckle….
“Her name is Suzannah Ryder, Your Honor.”
She heard herself whisper, “No,” like a child pleading with a nightmare in the dark. Then she shook herself, determined to keep some semblance of poise.
Judge Taylor stared at Justin in disbelief. Then he slowly turned his gaze toward the audience. “Are you saying the infamous Suzannah Ryder is here with us today? Excellent. Join us, won’t you, Ms. Ryder?”
A dozen or so people turned to stare at her, and she realized they recognized her from the unfortunate interview she’d given after news of her successful appeal had hit the airwaves. She hadn’t said more than a few words—mostly No comment and Judge Taylor is one of our finest judges—but she imagined it had been memorable, if only because of her futile attempts to duck the cameras.
She knew she had to do something fast to salvage this situation, so she took a deep breath, pasted a confident, slightly bemused smile on her face and stood up. Thankfully her legs held her weight, so she walked slowly toward the bench, ignoring the piteous stares of the attorneys she passed, including Tony, who winced expressively.
Justin Russo, on the other hand, was ready with an encouraging smile, which actually helped Suzannah a little because it allowed anger to surpass embarrassment as her dominant emotion. This was all his fault. And she was going to find a way to pay him back just as soon as she got beyond the contempt zone.
“So,” Judge Taylor said with a drawl. “The victorious appellate warrior in person. What an honor. I didn’t think you’d be here today. Did you change your mind about handling Mr. Driscoll’s resentencing?”
“No, Your Honor,” she assured him, her voice hoarse but steady. “Tony Moreno is taking over. I’m just here as a spectator.”
“According to Agent Russo, you’re his new attorney.”
She grimaced. “I assure you, Your Honor, that’s a misunderstanding on Defendant Russo’s part. I barely know him and I certainly never agreed to represent him. It would be malpractice for me to even try. I just don’t have the experience.”
“You had enough experience to get me reversed on appeal. Are you saying my ruling was so wrong any attorney could have gotten it reversed? Even an incompetent one?”
“No, Your Honor.” She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. “What I meant was, I don’t have much trial experience and absolutely no criminal trial experience. I have a corporate practice. Contracts, mostly. E-contracts, actually. It’s all transactional, except for the occasional hearing, and even those are few and far between—”
“Fascinating,” Judge Taylor interrupted with a growl, “but would you mind if I talked for just a moment?”
“Sorry, Your Honor.” She forced herself to maintain eye contact with him despite the smoke visibly pouring out of his ears. “I’m just pointing out that I’m not a trial attorney. This situation with Agent Russo is all a big mistake.”
“That is abundantly clear,” the judge agreed. “Agent Russo? Could you enlighten the court
