CHAPTER ONE

NAOMI

I stood in the tiny open plan kitchen the great city of Crestwood graciously kept stocked with stale granola bars and burnt coffee beans.

It had been less than an hour since I downed four shots of espresso at miraculous speed, but the coffee had done nothing to chase away the constant pressure behind my eyes, and I had too much to do not to be alert. If I were thinking logically, I would have told myself that getting another cup was ridiculous, but since I had gotten very little sleep in the last couple of days, weeks, months, or years, my voice of reason was long gone.

Chucking my empty paper cup from the much nicer shop around the corner of our twenty-story downtown building, I checked my phone. I had maybe thirty minutes before the head district attorney and my boss, John Coleman, would be ready to go to our last hearing before the biggest case of my career began.

I picked up the lukewarm pot, only to put it back down when I found the cup dispenser empty. Rummaging through the cabinets with no luck, I stared daggers at the trashcan where I had foolishly discarded my perfectly fine one.

"You alright, Naomi?" Dorian strolled past me to the large white refrigerator that creaked as he opened its shabby door.

"Fine," I murmured, setting the coffee pot back in its place and rummaging through the snack basket to look busy before I made a clean getaway.

Dorian Keates was tall and lanky, that skinny strong that basketball players achieved, with a high yellow skin tone that turned red before brown in the sun. He was a nice enough guy, but we had barely said two words to each other when I was prosecuting battery and domestic dispute charges for the four years I had been in the office before I’d gotten my promotion.

Now, six months had passed since Coleman had asked me to replace Dorian as the second chair in the Drayman case, and it felt like I saw him everywhere.

Even though he wasn’t working with Coleman anymore, Dorian had been nothing but kind to me whenever we bumped into each other, so I accepted that the uneasy feeling was probably one-sided but still didn’t like to linger longer than I needed to around him.

Dorian smiled as he pulled out two canned coffee drinks with his name scrawled on the side and extended one out to me. I smiled politely, but didn’t accept. Unperturbed, he set the can down on the counter beside the snack trays. "Come on, I know you don’t want to drink that old coffee, and I don’t think Regina remembered to order fresh cups, anyway."

I smiled, picturing our receptionist tapping her pen to the beat of whatever James Brown song she had playing just loud enough that you couldn’t hear it unless you were at her desk. Last holiday season, I had bought her wireless earbuds, but she told me she didn’t like things in her ears and, besides, she was bringing a little groove to everyone’s day.

Dorian’s smile got bigger at the sight of mine and, being that this was the longest interaction we’d had, I noticed for the first time that he wasn’t a bad looking guy. His brown eyes were playful, making him look younger than his thirty-eight years, and he had a symmetry to his face that gave his sharp features a soft touch.

"Thanks." I took the drink as my phone buzzed, and I gave a quick wave of the drink as a goodbye and rushed back to my desk. I glossed over the ‘How are you?’ message from my dad as I sat down and promised myself I would respond later. Right now, I wanted to go over our case file one more time.

Last night, we learned that the defendant, Ronan Drayman, had switched lawyers for the fourth time, and I was determined to prevent another delay of our trial date.

It had already been three years since the suspected murder of his wife, Candace, and while we didn’t have a body, her long disappearance and the nonstop news coverage about the missing socialite was enough for Coleman to get the indictment last year.

Drayman was extremely rich and just as entitled, so his arrest made the front page and garnered weekly updates the city ate up, but he had avoided a trial until now. His new representation was the Charles and Charles firm—a flashy legal team that I’m sure promised him further delays or even a quick dismissal. I had heard plenty about the father/son team Langston and Malcolm and knew they were the worst kind of defense attorneys.

Grandstanding press conferences, dramatic showboating in the courtroom and million dollar retainers, the duo only took on cases that kept the cameras on them. Langston had at least built the company from the ground up, making it what it was today, but Malcolm Charles had been born with a diamond-encrusted spoon in his mouth and fell into the family business ten years ago after floating through the best schools in the world, including my alma mater. Every time I saw his face in the news, I was grateful he was five years older than me and I had missed having to share any classes with the man.

Unfortunately, I still knew all about his playboy exploits. Regina loved to fill me in on any recent drama within the lawyer community, no matter how many times I told her I didn’t care, and she especially loved Malcolm Charles. He had a different woman on his arm every month, and with the amount of photos she shoved in my face of him attending galas and award ceremonies, I doubted Malcolm was much more than a pretty face who smiled at the camera while the people under him did the real work.

I had never been up against such a powerhouse law firm before, but for all their bravado and showmanship, I had spent every waking moment and even some barely conscious ones of the past six months going over this case and there was nothing they could throw at us that Coleman and I couldn’t handle.

We had already successfully suppressed the proceedings, with no press being allowed in the courtroom and no vital information about the case being disclosed to the public until after closing arguments. Langston and Malcolm would have to keep their theatrics to the courthouse steps.

"Naomi, have you seen this article?!" Regina was already pushing a picture of the man I was soon going to see toward me before I could respond. "Malcolm Charles is in Mahogany magazine!!" she whisper screamed. My heart involuntarily skipped a beat at the image. He was attractive; I’ll give him that.

Malcolm stood with his hands in his pockets, filling one side of the magazine page, wearing head-to-toe black, with a ruby red tie accented by the same color cufflinks. His smooth dark skin made the slight beard connecting to his perfectly tailored fade look slicked on like butter. I took the magazine to stop Regina from suffocating me with it and scanned the page.

Malcolm Charles Will Get You Out of Trouble…And into Some, too.

I rolled my eyes at the title and didn’t read further, looking up at Regina instead. She was wearing her usual light blue cardigan that she kept in the office because it was always on the brink of freezing, no matter the weather outside, over a simple black dress that went to her ankles.

She had never volunteered her age in all the time I’d known her, but Regina had that classy regalness that only Black women over a certain age could portray after they stopped giving a fuck about what other people thought.

When it was clear I would not play along, she snatched the magazine back from me and pointed to a passage in the multi-page article. "The thirty-five-year-old eligible bachelor spends his days arguing for the powerful elite and his nights rubbing elbows with the affluent. He fits right in, having grown up as both…" I focused back on my computer, but Regina wasn’t having it, only speaking louder. "It says here he’s never been in love!" She dropped her voice a couple of octaves and then continued. "‘While I’ve been honored to know many gorgeous and talented women, I still haven’t found that magic yet.’"

I started typing with more force than needed. Of course, Malcolm Charles was in a fashion magazine talking about stuff that didn’t matter while I was losing sleep and stressing over my career. "Regina, the man keeps criminals out of prison. I don’t care about his love life," I groaned.

Winning this case would bring justice to Candace Drayman and prove to Coleman that he hadn’t made a mistake in asking me to come on board. This was my ticket to handling bigger cases on my own and a major step toward my goal of becoming the first Black female Head District Attorney in Crestwood. My mother had been a prosecutor for fifteen years before she became a judge, and I was going to make her proud. The work was worth it.

"You’re too young to be this grumpy," Regina said as I stood to pack up my heavy bag. "I’m not grumpy. I just have principles." Regina side-eyed me and tucked the folded magazine under her arm. "Mmhmm, well, I can sacrifice some principles for someone as fine as Malcolm Charles. I’m not too old to show him a little something." I huffed a small laugh and looked around to see if anyone was listening in on our highly inappropriate conversation, but everyone was doing actual work like I should have been.

Regina must have noticed my demeanor change because she leaned in and whispered, "You tell him I said hi and that he can come by the office anytime. I’ll take any affidavit." She fanned herself with the magazine as she walked away, leaving me with my mouth open.

I quickly shut it as I glimpsed Coleman heading my way, his stout stature framed in a brown suit that matched his skin tone and patches of his short hair that hadn’t completely grayed yet. He clasped his hands together when he got to me and smiled. "You ready for this, Ms. Vine?" He asked, his assured voice honed from hours in the courtroom. "Absolutely, sir!" I said, matching his energy. His wry smile blocked out any other thoughts of that smug attorney we were going to beat.

* * *

Coleman and I had discussed potential arguments Langston and Malcolm might have for a delay during our drive over, and I was confident they would not get the outcome they wanted.

The judge had granted three postponements already for Drayman’s past attorneys so that they could fully acquaint themselves with the case material, but there had to be a line, and we would make sure this was it.

"Chime in at anytime in there, Naomi. You know this case, and we’re in this thing together." Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and I couldn’t tell if they were from fear or anticipation as I nodded my head.

We walked through the open, thick wooden door into the judge's chambers, and I readied to meet our opposition. Langston Charles sat on a small leather couch against the merit-lined wall, silently engrossed in a thin black leather folder in his hands. But it was the standing figure, all dark and too handsome in a deep blue bespoke suit, that caught my attention.

Malcolm turned from the judge’s desk and took me in for only a moment before approaching my boss. "Mr. Coleman, great to see you again," Malcolm said as he extended his hand. Coleman took it, but the handshake was brief.

"Mr. Charles," my boss returned. Malcolm again glanced my way and gave a smirk, but otherwise discarded my presence as if I were a piece of lint on his fancy suit. He turned back to the judge’s desk, and my fingernails dug into my palms as I ignored the warmth of my cheeks.

Langston, who hadn’t seemed to notice or care that we had entered, finally stood and patted Coleman on the back. "John! Lovely to see you. Let’s see if you can actually make it to court this time," he mused.

Coleman’s lips thinned into a straight line, and his brow knit tightly, but he said nothing. I knew Langston and Coleman were around the same age and had heard about their many bouts in court, with Coleman being on the losing end most of the time.

"Oh, lighten up John, it’s a joke." Langston turned his twinkling eyes to me, his smile wide as he extended his hand. I noticed a large Whitmore class ring on his middle finger. "I see you've got some new blood in that office of yours! It’s a pleasure, Ms. Vine."

I nodded with a polite smile and dropped his hand, not wanting to betray Coleman with anything further and still feeling the sting from Malcolm’s disregard. I looked over at the rude man and sucked in a breath when I realized he was staring directly at me. Startled by his intense gaze, I turned back to Langston and broke the connection.

"Mr. Charles, I wouldn’t doubt that we’ll see you in court, and I suggest you get your opening statement in order." I said cooly. Langston only chuckled. "Oh, I like you, Ms. Vine. Looking forward to it." Langston glanced at his son, and I caught the subtle nod he gave him. I followed Langston’s gaze to see Malcolm’s stern frown before he turned his back on all of us.

Judge Lee came in from a side door in the back of the office behind his desk, taking everyone’s focus. "Perfect, everyone's here. Let's get started. I have a trial coming back from recess in thirty minutes." Langston stepped forward. "Well, it's quite simple, Your Honor. My client has just retained my counsel, and we will need sufficient time to review the files to construct a case." Coleman spoke before the judge could respond. "Your client has had plenty of time to find a defense. He's been through firm after firm and has postponed these proceedings long enough."

Malcolm stepped up next, just as calm as his father appeared, his eyes fixed on the judge. "Your Honor, Charles and Charles weren’t involved then, so I can't speak to the actions of other attorneys, but this is a delicate case, and our client has just disclosed his alibi, something the prosecution doesn't yet have." Langston tapped his black folder, directing his practiced smile at Coleman.

Drayman claimed to be home alone after Katherine had gone out for a late night walk. It was one of the main reasons the prosecution could indict him. Coleman's expression went blank, but I noticed his mouth twitching. I was talking before I realized what I was doing.

"Your Honor, the defense is attempting to prolong this case under the guise of a nonexistent alibi that appeared out of thin air." I moved in closer to the judge’s desk as I spoke, bringing me next to Malcolm. He was much taller than I was and made his height apparent as he looked down at me with that same blasé smirk.

"Apologies, I wasn’t aware Ms. Vine was a psychic and already knows not to take Mr. Drayman’s alibi seriously without looking at a single shred of evidence." Malcolm cocked his head to the side, continuing to analyze me as he spoke. "Perhaps the prosecution doesn’t need the extra time after all? What a bold stance to take during your first murder trial."

I struggled to keep my focus on the judge as heat inched up my body. Embarrassment pricked at my skin like tiny needles, but I would not let it show, and Coleman was giving me the space to handle the argument.

"Not psychic, Your Honor, just smart enough to know when an attorney is grasping at straws because they’re afraid of going to trial." I turned to look up at Malcolm, our eyes meeting. "And while this is my first murder trial, Mr. Charles, I advise you not to underestimate my abilities. Perhaps if you focused more on the case rather than being in magazines, you would know that your client already submitted an alibi."

Malcolm’s smirk turned into a full-blown smile. I focused on making my point but felt an odd shiver run up my spine. "Didn’t know you were a fan." I scoffed, forgetting where I was for a second. "Hardly. Everything I know about you has been against my will." I waited for his rebuttal, but all Malcolm did was stare down at me with the same bright eyes his father had. Although Malcolm’s looked…hungrier. Like a predator savoring the moment right before it took its prey.

Judge Lee chimed in, breaking the quiet. "How long have you had this new alibi?" His tone suggested he did not like to be played with, which made Malcolm’s smile finally falter, but he still didn’t seem fazed.

"Your Honor, we just took this case last night, and we received the information when we met with our client right before this meeting. While Mr. Drayman gave a statement about his whereabouts the night of his wife’s disappearance, it was the same night as the incident, and he was obviously not thinking straight. Now, he realizes his honest mistake and would like to set the record straight. With witnesses."

While Malcolm spoke, Langston handed both the judge and Coleman paperwork from his black folder. Judge Lee was quiet as he looked over the document, and I peered at Coleman’s to see what nonsense they were trying to pull. Drayman now claimed he was at one of his establishments, a gentleman’s club called Marlow’s, with five people listed for confirmation. Coleman huffed out an irritated sigh. "Your Honor, their client is simply buying an alibi because he knows his old one won’t stick. This is laughable!"

The judge looked at the Charles men with a vexed expression and then eyed my boss and I almost sympathetically. "I don’t like surprises, gentlemen, and you will find that this won’t work in the future, but I will allow this new alibi."

"Your Honor—" Judge Lee put up a hand to stop me from continuing. "The prosecution will receive one extra day before trial; detectives can contact these new witnesses, and you may raise the discarded alibi during cross-examination."

I worked not to slump my shoulders at the defeat and nodded once to the judge. "This trial starts Friday, everyone. Close my office door when you leave, please." As he said it, Judge Lee was standing and heading for the same side door he had entered from.

"Thank you, Your Honor," Langston smiled, and Coleman's expression was heading towards a grimace. I didn’t even glance at Malcolm, knowing that the smile that made me a little light-headed earlier would probably make me want to smack it off his face right now. They knew the judge would probably be on our side and wouldn’t readily grant any significant extra time, something we might need now that Drayman had a shiny new alibi. We had a day and a half to investigate this, while the defense probably had already been through all the other case files with their dozens of associates.

I’d be the first to admit that I wasn’t the best at losing, which is why I was fine heading straight for the door, but found my path blocked by an annoying giant. Malcolm waited patiently until I met his eyes to speak.

"Nice to have met you, Ms. Vine." Thankfully the smile wasn’t there, but that smirk was, and it wasn’t lost on me I now garnered a goodbye when I apparently wasn’t worth an introduction.

"See you in court," I responded curtly, maneuvering past him and continuing out the door with Coleman close behind. The defense could worry about shutting it, since they weren’t worried about time.