Part 29 (2/2)
They were emotionally involved so, technically, anyway, she and Steven could not legally oppose each other in a courtroom.
She could handle the prosecution, or Steven could defend Byron Cahill, but not both. One of them would have to withdraw.
And it wasn't going to be her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
STANDING BESIDE M MELISSA as she gazed at Byron Cahill through the bars of the cell, Tom explained what had happened after he'd spoken to Martine in the Grange Hall parking lot. He'd started for the Stop & Shop, intending to begin his investigation where the crime had taken place, and had nearly been hit by the Cahill car as it shot out of an alley. as she gazed at Byron Cahill through the bars of the cell, Tom explained what had happened after he'd spoken to Martine in the Grange Hall parking lot. He'd started for the Stop & Shop, intending to begin his investigation where the crime had taken place, and had nearly been hit by the Cahill car as it shot out of an alley.
Tom had stuck his portable light on the roof of his personal vehicle and set it flas.h.i.+ng, wis.h.i.+ng he had a siren, too.
The driver hadn't slowed; in fact, if Byron hadn't swerved to miss a cat running across the road in front of him, and pitched his mother's car into the ditch in the process, the chase would still be on.
”I didn't do anything wrong,” Byron said, lifting his eyes at last, looking out at them with an expression so hopeless that Melissa felt that drowning sensation again, like a swimmer going under.
”You didn't stop when I pulled in behind you and turned on the light,” Tom reminded him calmly.
”I was scared,” Byron answered. ”I knew you wouldn't believe me!”
”Know why I don't believe you, Byron?” Tom inquired, his tone smooth. Even. ”Because on top of trying to outrun me, you happened to be carrying a ski mask and a backpack full of $5, $10 and $20 bills in the trunk of your car.”
Melissa folded her arms. She didn't want it to be true; if only for Andrea's sake and for Velda's, she'd hoped Byron would keep his nose clean. Make a new start.
But the evidence was stacked against him.
”If you didn't rob the Stop & Shop,” she ventured, watching Byron's faced closely, ”who did?”
Elvis made a slight whimpering sound, full of sympathy.
Byron looked away. ”I don't know,” he said.
Years of taking depositions and reading juries had taught Melissa to spot a lie, and Byron Cahill was definitely not telling the truth now.
”Do we have a case?” Tom asked Melissa.
It was a rhetorical question, of course.
”I'm afraid so,” Melissa answered wearily. ”I'll file formal charges in the morning. In the meantime, since Mr. Cahill did his best to evade you when you tried to pull him over, it would be best to keep him here.”
Byron was on his feet, knuckles white where he gripped the bars with both hands, looking past Melissa and Tom. ”Can they do that?” he demanded. ”Can they hold me when no charges have been filed?”
Steven joined the group in front of the cell. Melissa slanted a sideways glance at his face, through her lashes, but said nothing.
”Depends,” Steven answered.
”I can always file charges tonight,” Melissa told Byron crisply, ”if that's what you want.”
Steven sighed.
Byron spun away.
”That went well,” Tom observed, leaning down to pat Elvis on the head.
When Melissa turned around, she was surprised to see that Velda had left.
”I asked Mrs. Cahill to wait in my truck,” Steven said. ”I'm taking her home.”
”That's very nice of you,” Melissa said, without inflection.
”You might as well go on home,” Tom interjected. ”Both of you. There won't be much going on here for the rest of the night.”
Cautiously, Steven touched Melissa's elbow. ”I'll drop you off at your place,” he said.
”No, thanks,” Melissa replied lightly, but with an edge. ”I'll call someone.”
A look pa.s.sed between Steven and Tom. Tom walked away, whistled for Elvis, who remained in front of the cell, keeping watch over the prisoner.
”I'd like a word with you, in private,” Steven told Melissa.
Melissa gave one abrupt nod and followed Steven out into the corridor.
She surprised herself by being the first one to speak. ”You know d.a.m.n well you can't ethically defend Cahill,” she said, glaring up at him. ”Not while I'm the prosecutor.”
”And you do intend to prosecute?”
”Of course I do,” Melissa answered impatiently. ”It's my job.”
”Has it occurred to you that the kid might be innocent, just as he claims?”
”He'll have a public defender,” Melissa pointed out.
”No,” Steven argued, his tone and his eyes stone cold. ”He won't.”
”You can't defend him, because-because of-”
”Us?”
”Yes,” Melissa said, fighting a humiliating urge to break down and cry.
”You're right, counselor,” he said, maintaining the chill. ”You and I can't oppose each other in court. But I know some other lawyers who'll be willing to take the case pro bono.”
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