Romancing Sal Gabrini 2: A Woman's Touch (2 page)

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Authors: Mallory Monroe

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Romance, #Multicultural, #Crime Fiction

BOOK: Romancing Sal Gabrini 2: A Woman's Touch
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“If I
call your family members, and they claim you were at home when the victim was
shot, I’ll be setting them up for perjury charges.”

“How?
 
I was home!”

“You
were not home, Kenny, why are you deluding yourself?
 
You already told the police you heard the
gunshot while you were getting into your car to leave the victim’s apartment.”

Kenny
had forgotten about that. “Bump what I told the cops!” he yelled.
 
“You can put me on the stand and I can say
the cops beat me up and was harassing me and shit.
 
I can say they forced me to confess.”

“They
have you on tape saying it, Kenny.
 
You
didn’t look beaten up and harassed on that tape.”

“That’s
because they beat me below the neck.
 
All
my bruises were hidden.”

“First,
and this is on tape too, you told the cops that you were home with your mom
when the killing happened.”

“So?”

“Then
they showed you the videotape they had from outside the apartment complex where
the murder took place.
 
And there you
were, on a video camera that also happens to have the time and date embedded in
it, leaving the complex at the exact same time the Coroner is going to testify
that the young man was murdered.
 
You see
that video, then you change your story.
 
Then suddenly you heard the gunshot just as you were leaving.”
 
Gemma shook her head.
 
“The evidence is overwhelming.”

“I
don’t care what you say,” Kenny said.
 
“There’s no video showing me killing that man.
 
If they don’t have that, they don’t have a
case.
 
Tell that jury the cops forced me
to say what they claim I said.”

Gemma
sat there and wondered how in the world had things gotten so bad that she had
to resort to trying criminal cases again.
 
She was court-appointed, which guaranteed she would get paid, but she
hated the work.
 
Defending criminals with
all kinds of wild tales that they expected her to put before a jury was
something she dreaded doing.

“I
can’t do that,” she said bluntly.

“Why
the hell not?” Kenny wanted to know.
  
“You ain’t got to say it.
 
I’ll be
the one saying it.
 
All you got to do is
put me on the stand!”

“It’s
illegal for me to put evidence before the jury that I know, for a fact, isn’t
true.”

“But
you don’t have to say a word!
 
Just put
me on the stand.”

But
Gemma knew that would be a mistake.
 
Like
most of the criminals she’d defended, Kenny was convinced he could con the
jury.
 
He was convinced that if he only
got on the stand, and smiled charmingly, the jury would overlook the evidence
and go along with his lies.
 
In her
experience such a strategy often backfired, but he was convinced he could pull
it off.
 
“If I put you on the stand,” she
said, “you realize that all of your prior bad acts will be able to be
introduced by the prosecution?”

“What
prior bad acts?” Kenny asked.
 
“I don’t
have any prior bad acts!”

Lie
after lie this guy was willing to tell.
 
“Your previous manslaughter conviction.
 
Remember that bad act?”

Kenny
had forgotten about that.
 
“I was just a
kid then!”

“Your
previous sexual assault conviction?”

Kenny
said nothing.
 

But
Gemma did.
 
“Your previous battery
charges?
 
Remember those acts as well?
 
All of that will be introduced in front of
the jury.
 
You can talk all day on that
stand, but your past will speak far louder than any words you can say.”
 

Kenny
frowned and ran his hand across his bald head.
 

Gemma
looked at him.
 
He was a handsome young
black male who probably once was a good kid with a lot of hope and promise in
his life.
 
He probably never dreamed to
find himself here, in the jaws of a criminal justice system that treated people
who looked like him, not as temporary visitors, but permanent residents.
 

“I
know you wish you weren’t in this position,” Gemma said.
 
“I wish to God you weren’t, either.
 
But you are.
 
And you have got to face what’s ahead of you.
 
If you’re innocent, then you are absolutely
right to fight this thing to the bitter end.
 
And I’ll fight for you.
 
But if
you aren’t innocent, Kenny, don’t be a fool.
 
Take the plea deal.
 
Do your five
years, maybe get your GED while you’re locked up.
 
When you get out, you’ll still be a young man
and still be able to turn your life completely around.
 
That’s the best advice I can give to you.”

“But
five years,” Kenny said with a frown.
 
But it was the first time she even heard him consider the plea.
 

“Yes,”
Gemma said.
 
“If you take the deal, you
will have to serve five years.”

“But
what if we can beat this rap?
 
What if we
do this right and beat this rap?”

“If
you’re innocent, yes, we can possibly beat it.
 
And even that’s no guarantee.
 
But
we stand a chance.
 
But if you aren’t
innocent, there’s no way.
 
I’m sorry but,
given the evidence, there’s no way.”

But
she knew he wasn’t going to go for it.
 
He killed a man, and he knew he did, but he felt the guy deserved it so
he didn’t want to serve any hard time at all.
 
She once asked him to put himself in the shoes of the poor man he
murdered, for human decency sake, but he looked at her as if she was insane.

Then
Kenny stood as if his mind was made up.
 
Gemma knew that he was, in effect, giving up any shot he had at ever
seeing the light of day again.
 
If he was
convicted, the judge, she was certain, was going to throw the book at him. Life
in prison, was her bet.
 

And
true to form, Kenny turned defensive again, like a man who knew he had done
wrong, but dreaded facing up to it.
 
“Whatever man, I’m out,” he said, frowning.
 
Then he turned back to Gemma and put his
finger in her face.
 
“Your ass better
defend me better!” he said.
 
“Cause I’m
not doing hard time, you hear me?
 
I
don’t care what shit I did, I’m not doing hard time ever again!
 
You hear me?”

Although
Kenny’s provocative action caused the jailer, who was behind the glass, to look
their way, Gemma didn’t flinch.
 
“I hear
you,” she said.
 
“Now you hear me.
 
If you don’t remove your finger out of my
face, I’ll remove it for you.
 
And when I
do, you won’t be getting it back.”

Kenny
stared at her.

The
jailer pressed the button.
 
“Everything
all right, Miss Jones?” he asked her.

“Is
everything all right, Kenny?” Gemma asked her client.

Kenny
hesitated, then removed his finger.
 
“Yeah,” he said to the jailer, but refused to take his eyes off of
Gemma.
 
“Everything’s fine.
 
Just get me out of here.”
 

When
he left, Gemma exhaled.
 
She hated
criminal law.
 
She hated it with a
passion.
 
But as she grabbed her
briefcase and headed out of the courtroom, she had to remind herself that she
had worked out the best deal he was ever likely to get, given the evidence
against him.
 
It wasn’t her fault if he
still believed he could game the system.
 
But she felt like a failure anyway.

In
court, all cell phones had to be turned off.
 
Now she had turned hers back on, to read her messages, hoping to find a
message by one person in particular.
 
She
stood still in the atrium and quickly scanned the messages.
 
She had many, but none from that particular
one.
 
Then she frowned.
 
Even though she wanted to hear from Sal, she
knew he was on business in New Jersey and had already told her he would get
back to her in a few days.
 

Their
relationship was still new, and it was still long-distance since he lived in
Seattle and she lived here in Vegas, but that didn’t stop her from feeling
lonely when he wasn’t around.
 
Which only
made her feel worse.
 
Why was she
allowing herself to fall into that
can’t
live without you
despair?
 
She wasn’t
a needy person before she met Sal, and she wasn’t going to become needy
now.
 
She therefore began texting
responses to the messages she did have, and headed down the stairs.

Marshall
Denning, an attorney who first met her when they both attended a lawyers
convention, came out of the shadows of a nook along the atrium.
 
He continued to watch her.
 
He continued to be impressed with her as she
carried her elegant, beautiful black body down those stairs as if she was as
carefree as a feather, floating on air.

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

TWO

 

Trina
Gabrini stopped sipping her drink and waved gaily as Gemma made her way around
tables inside the crowded restaurant.
 

They
hugged when they met, and Gemma began sitting down.
 
“You can pick’em, Tree,” she said with a
smile as she sat across from her friend and business partner.
 
“I’ve never been to this place before in my
life.”

“Me
neither,” Trina admitted.
 
“But I didn’t
want you to have to drive too far from the courthouse.
 
You said you’re back in court this
afternoon.”

“That
I am,” Gemma said.
 
The waiter came up,
Gemma placed her lunch and drink order, and then the waiter left.

“Same
case?” Trina asked.

“Yep.
 
Afternoon session.”

“From
that look on your face, it didn’t go well this morning.”

“Not
at all.
 
The prosecution offered him a
great plea deal.
 
Five years for killing
a man.
 
But he won’t take it.
 
He insists he’s innocent.”

“Is
he?”

Gemma
gave Trina a look something harsh.
 
Trina
laughed.
 

“I’m
trying the case as best I can,” Gemma went on.
 
“Given what I have to work with.
 
But in his eyes I’m blowing it left and right.
 
So we’ll see.”

“Evidence
strong?”

“Overwhelming,
girl.
 
I’m stunned the prosecution is
even offering a deal.
 
But they want a
conviction and doesn’t want to take any chances.
 
But anyway, let’s talk about something
else.
 
I’ve got to deal with that again
this afternoon.”

When
the waiter returned, with Gemma’s soda, he gave her an extra smile, and left
again.

Trina
smiled too, and shook her head.
 
“These
men need to give it a rest.
 
You’re a gorgeous
girl, but my goodness, they act as if they’ve never seen anyone so beautiful.”

“Yeah,
right,” Gemma said.
 
Trina was the
beautiful one, with that awesome combination of dark-brown skin and big, hazel
eyes.
 
“When Sal first saw me he didn’t
know what to make of me.”

“That’s
because Sal can be a
got
damn fool
sometimes,” Trina said bluntly.
 
Gemma
laughed.
 
“Especially if you saw some of
those women he was running with.”

“You
wouldn’t call them gorgeous, Tree?”

“They
looked all right, I’ll give’em that.
 
They were all blondes because that’s all he wanted.
 
But they looked gangster, Gem, I’m
serious.”
 
Gemma laughed again.
 
“They had tattoos and piercings and one of
them had a Mohawk.
 
A blonde Mohawk, I
kid you not.
 
Sal didn’t know what to
make of you because he was so far up the asses of those biker chicks that he
wouldn’t know sophistication if it bit him in the butt.”

Gemma
shook her head.
 
“I don’t know about the
sophistication part, but I’m certainly no biker chick.”

“So,”
Trina said, anxious to find out.
 
“Heard
from Sal?”

Gemma
didn’t immediately respond.
 
Mainly
because she hated to admit it.
 
“No,” she
said.
 
“Not at all.”

Although
Trina was surprised to hear that, considering how much she knew Sal cared for
Gemma, she didn’t show it.
 
“Well you
know how he is.
 
He’s not the phone type
anyway.”

“Yeah,
whatever.”

Trina
looked at her.
 
“What do you mean
yeah, whatever
?”

“I
mean I’m not justifying that,” Gemma made clear.
 
“I understand he’s away on business, I
understand that.
 
But he could have picked
up a phone.”

“You
act like it’s been weeks.
 
It’s only been
a few days since he left Vegas, Gemma, now come on.”

“I
know what you’re saying, Tree, I know all that.
 
But we haven’t been together all that long.
 
I haven’t too long ago made up my mind that I
could live with his . . . occasional business trips to handle messy business,
or whatever he does on those trips.
 
I
thought he would . . .”

“He
would what?
 
Be so grateful you didn’t
leave him that he should suddenly become your lap dog?”

Gemma
was offended by that.
 
“That’s not what I
meant at all.”

“You’re
sure?
 
Because I’m telling you, girl, Sal
and Reno are a lot alike.
 
And neither
one of them will play flunky to any woman.”

Gemma
exhaled.
 
Reno was Trina’s husband and
Sal’s first cousin, and Tree was right.
 
Reno and Sal were seriously alike in so many ways.
 
She knew she could talk to Trina about
this.
 
Maybe nobody else but Trina.
 
“It’s just so weird to me,” she admitted.

“What’s
weird?” Trina asked.
 
“Caring about a man
the way you care about Sal?”

“Yeah.
 
I’m not used to this, I’m not gonna lie.
 
I find myself thinking about him all the
time, Tree.
 
I get out of court, turn
back on my cell phone, and the only message I want to see is the one from
him.
 
Every single day.
 
But there’s never one from him.
 
Then I feel like a fool.”

Trina
grabbed her hand.
 
“Don’t.
 
Please.
 
It’s so normal what you’re going through that it’s not even funny.”

“You
went through it with Reno?”

“Hell
yeah,” Trina said.
 
“Sometimes I still go
through it.
 
It’s love, Gem.”

“I
don’t know about all of that,” Gemma said, politely removing her hand and
taking a sip of her drink.

Trina
stared at her.
 
“You know you need to
quit,” she said.
 
“You know you love
Sal.
 
Don’t-Take-No-Gruff
Gemma Jones is now officially in love and she may as well accept that hard,
cold fact!”

Gemma
smiled.
 
“Whatever, Tree.”

“You
can
whatever
me all you want.
 
But you know it’s true.
 
You don’t just like that man, you don’t just
care for that man, you love that man.
 
And
to most people on the outside looking in, Sal Gabrini is a hard man.
 
He is not an easy man to love.
 
But you love him.”

Gemma’s
cell phone began to ring.
 
“I hear you
talking,” she said with a smile, “but I don’t know what you’re saying.”

Trina
laughed.
 
“Yeah, right.”

Gemma
looked at her Caller ID.
 
Then she
smiled, too, and immediately answered.
 
“Hey,” she said.

“How
are you?”

Trina
mouthed,
Is that him
, and Gemma
nodded.

 
“I’m good,” Gemma responded to Sal.
 
“How are you?”

 
“I’m tired as a motherfuck,” Sal said over the
phone.
 
“But I’m wrapping things up.
 
I hope to see you soon.”

“Same
here.”

“Thought
I’d give you a call.”

She
started to say she appreciated that, but decided against it.
 
She waited for him to continue.

“Where
are you?” he asked.

“At
some crowded restaurant I’ve never been to before.
 
With Trina.”

“She
can pick-em, can’t she?”

Gemma
laughed and looked at Tree.
 
“Yes, she
can.
 
So what about you?
 
What’s your plan after you leave Jersey?
 
Are you going to head back to Seattle, or
what?”

“Head
back to Seattle?
 
What are you
joking?
 
Of course I’m not going back to
Seattle!
 
I haven’t seen you in nearly a
week and you expect me to overlook that fact?
 
I’m coming to see you before I go anywhere near Seattle.”

Gemma’s
heart leaped with joy.
 
“And when will
that be?”
 
She grimaced when she said it,
hoping she didn’t sound too anxious.

“In
another day or two,” Sal responded.
 
“I’ll call you when I’m on the plane.”

“Sounds
good.”

“You’re
taking care of yourself, Gemma?”

“I
am, yes.”

“You’d
better be.
 
I don’t want to come back and
find some skinny chick on my hands.
 
I
can’t do anything with skin and bones.”

Gemma
laughed.
 
“I’m not exactly plus-sized,
Sal, to begin with.”

“You’re
small, all right, but you aren’t skin and bones.
 
You’re close.
 
But you’re not there yet.
 
That’s
my point.
 
I don’t want you to get
there.”

“So
what are you saying?
 
If I lose weight,
it’s over between us?”

“If
you lose weight, I’ll just have to pump it back on you.
 
Pound it back in.
 
Pound by pound by pound.”

Gemma
laughed.
 
“You’re incorrigible, you know
that, right?”

“Wouldn’t
have it any other way, babe.”

Gemma
was beginning to believe she wouldn’t either.
 
“You take care of yourself, Salvatore.”

Trina
smiled at the way she said that.

“Yes,
ma’am,” Sal responded.
 
“And likewise to
you.
 
Oh, yeah, how’s that court case
going?”

Gemma
hated to go there.
 
“Not good.”

“Damn.
 
Don’t tell me you’re losing another one?”

It
sounded harsh, but that was what she loved about Sal.
 
He didn’t sugarcoat the truth.
 
“Yup,” she said.
 
“Looks like.”

“And
you’re telling me you still enjoy practicing law?
 
Sure you don’t want to do something else?”

“I’m
sure,” Gemma said.
 
“For now.”
 
She wasn’t sure in the least, but that was
her decision to make alone.
 
When it came
to her career, she wasn’t giving a vote to him or anybody else.

“Maybe
when I get to town we’ll do something, get your mind off of your cases and that
bad run of luck you’ve been having lately.”

“I’d
like that,” Gemma said genuinely.
 
“How
long will you be able to stay this time?”

“Not
long.
 
A couple days at most.
 
Tommy’s on my ass already about being away
from the office too much as it is, so it can’t be much longer than that.”

Gemma
knew she had to take what she could get in a long distance relationship.
 
“Understood,” she said.

“I
know you do, baby.
 
But don’t let me keep
you.
 
You keep taking good care of
yourself.
 
And make sure you keep that
sweet oven, the wet one between those legs of yours, nice and warm for me.”

Gemma
blushed with a combination of sensuality and shame, and glanced at Trina to
make sure she didn’t hear that.
 
From her
expression, she didn’t.
 
“I will,” Gemma
promised.

“You’d
better.
 
Kiss Reno and Tree for me, and
I’ll talk to you later.
 
No, check
that.
 
Kiss Tree for me.
 
Tell Reno to kiss my ass.”

Gemma
laughed.
 
Sal and Reno were close and
loved each other dearly, but they absolutely did not get along.

“All
right, Sal.
 
Will do.”

And
the phone went dead.
 
Gemma clicked off
too.
 

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