the table, and the two attorneys sat across from them.
“We’ve been looking over the files you sent over, Ms. Autry, and believe that we can make a difference in Talie Davis’s case. It’s clearly all circumstantial. If we can chip away at their case and create reasonable doubt in some of the state’s arguments, we feel sure we can have the charges reduced and negotiate minimal time and an early release,” Mr. Schexnaydre said.
“I'm sorry, what?” Roman asked, sitting forward.
“She’s looking at a minimum of thirty-five years in a maximum security prison. Two years in a minimal security facility with probation to follow is a vast difference,” Mr. Rooney said.
“I’m aware of that. But it’s still unacceptable,” Roman insisted. “She didn’t do anything. This is all pinned on her by her ex-husband. She shouldn’t be in there now, much less for two more years.”
“I understand that. I do,” Mr. Schexnaydre said. “But unless we can convince her ex-husband to confess, or at the very least locate witnesses to the crimes or someone willing to incriminate him, the chance of letting her walk away from a dead man’s body is unlikely. Just the burglary, we could most likely get her out without witnesses or her ex-husband’s confession. But the man who was killed is the Mayor’s grandson. They want someone’s head. This will not go away.”
“She is not going to serve time for something she didn’t do,” Roman said emphatically.
“We plan to see to it that she doesn’t. But, I want you to be aware of what the possibilities are before we jump into this. Worst case would be a couple of years and out early on good behavior,” Mr. Rooney said sincerely. “But we’re going to fight. We’re going to pull out every move we know. If we end up having to go to appeal, we’ll go to appeal. We’re not going to go in half-hearted, and we’re not going to accept defeat. But in the light of all the evidence, and the fact that there are no witnesses at all, other than her ex-mother-in-law, who claims her son was with her when the murder took place, we may not be able to have her released the way we’d prefer. In that circumstance, two years give or take and out early for good behavior in a minimum-security facility is not a bad trade off to the thirty-five years they’re asking for.”
Roman sat there for a moment struggling with his emotions. “You’re right. I am aware of all you’ve just said. But I want her out. She deserves to be free to raise her daughter. Not paying for her ex’s crimes.”
“And we intend to move forward on that premise. But, I’m not going to bullshit you, there is a possibility that we may have to compromise. I’m shooting straight from the get go,” Mr. Rooney said. “I don’t want to mislead you.”
“We appreciate that,” Riley said.
The door behind them opened and another man who was talking to someone behind him stood in the doorway. His attention was focused on whoever it was he was speaking to when his brother introduced him. “Gentlemen, this is my brother, Patrick Rooney.”
The man turned and glanced around all those seated at the conference table. “Good morning,” he said. Then looked back down the hall toward whoever he was speaking to. “Yes. That’s fine. Just have a seat in the reception area. Ms. Laramie will get you whatever it is you’d like. Ms. Davis will be right in here with us, and as soon as the deposition is over, she’ll be returned to you.”
Roman’s eyes widened and he and Riley shared a look.
Voices could be heard, and the look on Patrick’s face showed irritation.
“Yes, you need to watch every move she makes because she’s a hardened criminal and she’s going to jump out of an eighth story window to make her getaway! Do not be ridiculous. Take these cuffs off her. She is going to be deposed in my conference room, without you. Any information she gives falls under attorney/client privilege and you have no business sitting in on her meeting with her attorneys,” he snapped.
“Then at least remove the ones on her ankles. I don’t wish her to fall while in our offices!”
They heard a woman’s voice as she spoke softly to someone. “I’m gonna be right outside this door. Something happens you don’t like, you call for me. You understand?”
“It’ll be okay, Sheryl. Thank you, though,” another woman’s voice answered.
Patrick stood there for a