Bailed Out (The Anna Albertini Files #2) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,87

his eyes a light brown. “But I’m down one lawyer and I can’t piss off Alice. I don’t interfere with the cases of my attorneys, and the last thing you want is to go over her head, considering you’re in trial together and probably will be again. Find a way to deal with her on this.”

Frustration heated down my back. “She doesn’t want to deal.”

“Then go to trial,” he said reasonably. “I’m not interfering.” He reached for a file folder beneath a stack. “Now that you’re out on your own, are you working on your sister’s case?”

I wasn’t exactly out on my own. In fact, I should start looking for a job. “Yes,” I said.

“Good. File a Notice of Appearance, would you? For now, here’s evidence I need to turn over.” He handed me the file folder, and stress lines showed at the sides of his mouth.

Dread cut through my solar plexus. “What is it?”

“Lab results. We found Danny Pucci’s prints on Tessa’s toilet, and based on the timelines given by Tessa and Aiden of the day he was killed, somebody is lying.” Nick sat back. “You might want to find out who.”

Chapter 31

I grabbed pizza on the way home and met Clark at my front step, where I handed over the documents. “We’re missing something.”

Clark followed me inside and flipped through the documents. “So either Aiden is lying with the timeline of Danny going in and getting shot, or Tessa is lying about Danny not being at her place for so long.” He walked and read, somehow missing the furniture. His phone rang.

I set the pizza down and tried not to freak out. My sister did not lie to me, so Aiden’s timeline had to be off. But why would Aiden lie?

“Clark Bunne,” Clark said, answering his phone. He straightened. “No. Sorry, Detective Pierce. My client has made the only statement she plans to make. Yes, I understand. Goodbye.” He clicked off.

“You sound tough,” I mused.

“I am tough.” Clark slid his phone back into his pocket. “Pierce wanted to interview Tessa about the new evidence. I say there’s no reason for her to talk to him, but I’ll call her so she’s updated.”

It was so different being on this side of things. I dished out the pizza and we both sat to eat. While eating, I told Clark about my first trial. “I just don’t think I can show that Pucci is innocent.”

Clark shrugged. “Then don’t. Show that it doesn’t matter.”

I drank some of the Chardonnay I’d poured for us. “What do you mean?”

He snagged another slice of pepperoni. “You’re looking at the case like a prosecutor. Right and wrong, guilty or innocent. You’re defending a guy, which lets the middle road in. Even if he had a gun, so what? If the jury wants to find a reason to let him go, they will find one. If you can show that the other guy really did grab Krissy’s butt, which is a sexual battery, then they won’t want Pucci to go to prison for defending her honor.”

I sat back. Good point. “Pucci is such an ass.”

Clark grinned. “You can’t let that change how you defend him and you know it. Just do your job.”

Another good point. “I don’t suppose you want to second chair the trial?”

He shook his head. “No. Getting another attorney involved at this point would look bad to the jury. Like you couldn’t handle it, which you can. Besides, I have a job interview tomorrow.”

“Already?” I reached for another slice. “That’s great.”

“Hardly. I’ve been turned down so far, and this is my first interview and it’s with a really small firm and probably not great pay. That newspaper article really screwed us. Have you tried for a new job yet?”

I shook my head. Then I leaned back and studied him. “You know—”

“No. We don’t have any money and I need to eat,” Clark said. “And I need health insurance and to be able to pay rent.”

“Me too.” I chewed the thought some more. “We could get a loan to start a business.”

Clark tipped back the rest of his wine. “With what collateral? My good looks and your penchant for ending up in the newspaper?”

I laughed. “There has to be somebody who’ll lend us money.”

“Nobody we want to owe money to,” Clark countered. “A legitimate bank wouldn’t look twice at us, unless you own a bunch of property somewhere that you haven’t told me about.”

“No property anywhere,” I admitted. “Even so, think about it. We could