process
his question. "Of course not!"
"You can tell me, I'm your
lawyer."
"No way. I didn't kill
anyone."
"Yeah, Joe says you're a good lady. I
think I did pretty good with them cops, huh?"
What did he mean by that? "Yes," she
said. "I think so. Wouldn't you know? I, uh, have never been in a
situation like this."
"Oh yeah, me either. Crazy, man. Kinda
cool, like one of them cops-and-lawyer shows."
Michaela crossed her arms and stared at
him. "What kind of law do you practice?"
"Who, me?" He pointed at himself and
then flattened down his silk tie. "Yeah, well, I'm a tax attorney,
you know."
"Perfect." She put her face in her
hands.
"Don't cry on me. I don't do so good
with tear jags."
"Out of all the cousins you guys seem
to have, there's no criminal defense attorney?"
"Oh yeah, there is. That'd be Pauly,
but he's out in Chicago, you know. But look, I can get you out of
this. Like I said, it don't take a genius to see they got a weak
case. We just gotta get your bail posted."
"Right." Anthony Pellegrino may not
have been a criminal defense attorney, but he was all she had right
now.
"Okay, so here's the deal. They got
your prints on the murder weapon. But it was your mallet, so they
gotta prove you had time. They got a motive with this thing,
though."
"Uh-huh, me sleeping with Sterling. Do
you know who told them such a thing?"
Pellegrino looked down at his notes.
"Do you know a Lucia Sorvino?"
"What? Pepe's teenage
daughter?"
"Says here she's twenty."
"I know who she is. We're not friends.
But she's served me a platter of lasagna from time to time at her
father's restaurant. I had a little disagreement yesterday morning
with her father before the event. She was there and her brother
showed up. I don't even really know the girl. Why would she say
something like that?"
"I don't know, but the police have it
on file."
"This is craziness!"
"I'm going to level with you. This
Peters dude, he's a jerk, a real uptight cop, and I think he'd like
to wrap this thing up because Taber was from a highfalutin family
who lives up in Santa Barbara. He don't want no heat, so if you
look like a good suspect, then that's the angle he's gonna pursue
for now. But Joe says you got a friend here in the
department."
She nodded. "Jude Davis. He's a
homicide detective."
"He might be able to help us out. Have
you spoken with him?"
"No. He's on a cruise with his
daughter. He won't be back until Friday."
"Huh. Five days. Okay, so while we're
waiting for your friend to come back from his vacation, there is a
hearing arranged for first thing this morning. The judge will
likely set bond, but it won't be cheap."
"How much?"
"Murder case? You're looking at a
quarter mil."
"Two hundred fifty thousand dollars! I
don't have that kind of cash right now."
"You only have to come up with ten
percent of it."
Michaela sighed. She didn't even have
that amount of liquid assets at the moment. She'd put most of her
cash from her inheritance into building up the autism riding center
and for the special equipment needed, along with the extra horses
she'd bought. The money that hadn't gone into the center she'd
invested in the tack shop, and she was working on just enough
capital to keep her business running and pay her bills. Oh God, she
couldn't turn back now. She'd been down the road toward bankruptcy
a few short years ago, and she refused to go back there. "That's
still a lot."
"What about your parents, friends,
property?"
She cringed at any of those thoughts.
Definitely not her parents. She couldn't ask any friends. She
wouldn't do that to them. But her property? Uncle Lou's place. That
was her only option. "My ranch. If I have to."
"Good. I talked with your friend Camden
and had her pack an outfit for you for this morning. By the time
they take you back to your cell, the clothes should be
there."
Her eyes stung with tears. Her cell.
The one hour she spent inside the jail cell in the wee hours she'd
paced back and forth, her mind full of
his question. "Of course not!"
"You can tell me, I'm your
lawyer."
"No way. I didn't kill
anyone."
"Yeah, Joe says you're a good lady. I
think I did pretty good with them cops, huh?"
What did he mean by that? "Yes," she
said. "I think so. Wouldn't you know? I, uh, have never been in a
situation like this."
"Oh yeah, me either. Crazy, man. Kinda
cool, like one of them cops-and-lawyer shows."
Michaela crossed her arms and stared at
him. "What kind of law do you practice?"
"Who, me?" He pointed at himself and
then flattened down his silk tie. "Yeah, well, I'm a tax attorney,
you know."
"Perfect." She put her face in her
hands.
"Don't cry on me. I don't do so good
with tear jags."
"Out of all the cousins you guys seem
to have, there's no criminal defense attorney?"
"Oh yeah, there is. That'd be Pauly,
but he's out in Chicago, you know. But look, I can get you out of
this. Like I said, it don't take a genius to see they got a weak
case. We just gotta get your bail posted."
"Right." Anthony Pellegrino may not
have been a criminal defense attorney, but he was all she had right
now.
"Okay, so here's the deal. They got
your prints on the murder weapon. But it was your mallet, so they
gotta prove you had time. They got a motive with this thing,
though."
"Uh-huh, me sleeping with Sterling. Do
you know who told them such a thing?"
Pellegrino looked down at his notes.
"Do you know a Lucia Sorvino?"
"What? Pepe's teenage
daughter?"
"Says here she's twenty."
"I know who she is. We're not friends.
But she's served me a platter of lasagna from time to time at her
father's restaurant. I had a little disagreement yesterday morning
with her father before the event. She was there and her brother
showed up. I don't even really know the girl. Why would she say
something like that?"
"I don't know, but the police have it
on file."
"This is craziness!"
"I'm going to level with you. This
Peters dude, he's a jerk, a real uptight cop, and I think he'd like
to wrap this thing up because Taber was from a highfalutin family
who lives up in Santa Barbara. He don't want no heat, so if you
look like a good suspect, then that's the angle he's gonna pursue
for now. But Joe says you got a friend here in the
department."
She nodded. "Jude Davis. He's a
homicide detective."
"He might be able to help us out. Have
you spoken with him?"
"No. He's on a cruise with his
daughter. He won't be back until Friday."
"Huh. Five days. Okay, so while we're
waiting for your friend to come back from his vacation, there is a
hearing arranged for first thing this morning. The judge will
likely set bond, but it won't be cheap."
"How much?"
"Murder case? You're looking at a
quarter mil."
"Two hundred fifty thousand dollars! I
don't have that kind of cash right now."
"You only have to come up with ten
percent of it."
Michaela sighed. She didn't even have
that amount of liquid assets at the moment. She'd put most of her
cash from her inheritance into building up the autism riding center
and for the special equipment needed, along with the extra horses
she'd bought. The money that hadn't gone into the center she'd
invested in the tack shop, and she was working on just enough
capital to keep her business running and pay her bills. Oh God, she
couldn't turn back now. She'd been down the road toward bankruptcy
a few short years ago, and she refused to go back there. "That's
still a lot."
"What about your parents, friends,
property?"
She cringed at any of those thoughts.
Definitely not her parents. She couldn't ask any friends. She
wouldn't do that to them. But her property? Uncle Lou's place. That
was her only option. "My ranch. If I have to."
"Good. I talked with your friend Camden
and had her pack an outfit for you for this morning. By the time
they take you back to your cell, the clothes should be
there."
Her eyes stung with tears. Her cell.
The one hour she spent inside the jail cell in the wee hours she'd
paced back and forth, her mind full of
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