State's Evidence: A Beverly Mendoza Legal Thriller (2 page)

Nor would it bode well for Beverly’s career.
Sensationalized cases would always be remembered for the winners
and losers, no matter how many other battles were fought and won,
especially when lawyers were always looking ahead in their careers.
She had aspirations of being a district attorney someday. Or maybe
even a judge.

Right now, assistant district attorney for
Wilameta County would have to suffice.

Sensing her stare, Grant swiveled his head,
slanting his cool sable eyes at her. If he was worried, he didn’t
show it. Instead, he gave Beverly a devilish smile that she knew
was less about the proceedings than it was about them. They had
been dating for four months now, though it had only become sexual
in the last four weeks. Both had survived bad previous
relationships and, once they had overcome their fears of failure
and the unknown, had succumbed to mutual desires that left Beverly
shamelessly wanting him every chance she got.

But getting her twelve-year-old son to
approve of Grant had proven to be a far more formidable task. Jaime
was very protective of her and did not want to see his mother get
hurt—again. To him, Grant was someone who threatened the life Jaime
had known for most of his young life, where it had pretty much been
just the two of them.

Perhaps even more difficult for Beverly to
deal with was losing her mother five years ago to breast cancer and
now watching her father wasting away with Alzheimer’s disease. It
left him but a shell of his former and proud self as a Latino who
was used to being a macho man in command of his life and times.
Sometimes she wished it would be over with for him so her father
wouldn’t suffer anymore; other times Beverly wanted him to hang on
for as long as he possibly could. After all, having part of a
father and grandfather to her son was preferable to none at
all.

Wasn’t it?

Beverly’s mind shifted back to the attention
Grant was giving her, as if they were the only ones in the
courtroom. She willed herself to avert his lascivious gaze that had
managed to cause her temperature to rise, and focus on the
important matter at hand. Judge Crawford read the verdict to
himself. He passed the slip back to the bailiff, giving no
indication by his dignified facial expression as to what it
said.

Beverly felt butterflies in her stomach as
she usually did whenever a case was about to be decided. It
represented weeks or months of hard work and in an instant would
culminate for all parties concerned. Later there would be the
penalty phase. And then, in all likelihood, appeals, and more
decisions to come.

But for the moment it didn’t get any more
exciting and tension filled than this.

Once the bailiff had returned the verdict to
the jury foreman, the judge faced the defense table and stated
levelly, “Will the defendant please rise—”

She obeyed him, springing to her feet and
running thin fingers through short crimson hair before taking a
breath and awaiting the judge’s words that would change her life
for the better or worse. Standing alongside her was her attorney,
Cassandra Fielding, a forty-something, ex-prosecutor, who had put
up a strong, sympathetic defense. No doubt she had an eye on a
hefty percentage of the insurance payments, mused Beverly. Provided
they ever came.

Judge Crawford nodded at the jury foreman.
“You may read the verdict.”

The woman put on her glasses, almost for
effect, took a deep sigh, and looked down at her trembling hands.
“We, the jury, find the defendant, Suzanne Landon, to be guilty of
murder in the first degree—”

The courtroom erupted in cheers from the
family of the victim. Beverly let out a sigh of relief and saw
victory spread across Grant’s face in a big grin. The two hugged as
co-counsel might be expected, formally and professionally. There
would be time later for a much more private celebration.

The newly convicted murderess was led away in
handcuffs, tears of disbelief or disappointment flowing down her
reddened cheeks. Before leaving the courtroom, she shot Beverly a
contemptuous gaze, which the prosecutor dismissed for all it was
worth.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but
hateful glares won’t hurt me.

Justice was not always blind. Not today
anyway.

* * *

“We did it!” Grant Nunez declared
magnanimously. He had Beverly cornered in his office, right between
two file cabinets. The door was locked and might just as well have
had a DO NOT DISTURB sign on it. He certainly had no intentions of
being interrupted till they were done.

At six-three, he hovered over Beverly by
almost seven inches. But that didn’t detract from the presence she
had as a woman. With her Selma Hayek looks and a hot, taut body all
her own, it was all Grant could do not to want to be with Beverly
24/7.

He’d settle for twenty-four minutes and seven
ways to make love to this woman who turned him on like no other
with both her mind and sexuality, inside and out of the
courtroom.

“Never thought for a minute we wouldn’t,”
Beverly declared between kisses.

“You’re not a very good liar.” Grant put his
hands on her firm breasts through her silk blouse, causing
Beverly’s nipples to tingle.

“So sue me,” she murmured, “but only after
you make me come.”

“Whatever you say, Counselor.” He put his
tongue in her mouth. “Never let it be said that I don’t believe in
the spirit of cooperation.”

“Maybe that’s why we make such a great
team.”

“Maybe.”

Beverly tasted spearmint from his tongue, and
gave him hers to play with. She put a hand to his pants, feeling
the hardness of Grant’s erection begging to be released. She was
only too happy to oblige, unzipping him, even as his hand went
under her skirt and began to caress between her legs. She pulled
him out and held firmly as if her own, stimulating the shaft.

“Umm...” She heard the sound utter between
their mouths, unsure who it had come from.

Her back stiffened when Grant slipped fingers
inside her panties and then into her. She spread her legs while
leaning against a file cabinet, urging him on and giving back as
much in touching his penis. Beverly bit her lip as he began to
stimulate her, causing her to nearly scream with pleasure.

Instead, mindful they were somewhere where
noise could be easily heard, she managed barely more than a
whimper. While still holding his throbbing erection, Beverly looked
Grant ravenously in the eye. “Condom?”

He removed one from his pocket and placed it
in her palm, content to see her take the lead. She quickly removed
the foil and slid the latex over him and climbed atop Grant’s
sturdy hips, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Beverly inserted him inside her. “Make love
to me,” she demanded in a desperate voice, the sense of urgency
spreading across her body like a bolt of lightning.

“It would be my pleasure, baby,” he husked,
and held onto her slender waist while plunging himself deep into
her as she absorbed the thrusts while slamming herself back against
him with equal zest.

Her orgasm came quickly and a second one
shortly thereafter at about the same time that Grant climaxed with
a rush of breath and a violent shudder. Both were breathing
heavily, and Beverly could feel Grant’s heartbeat pounding as they
clung to one another till the experience had come to a mouths
smacking, bodies perspiring, satisfying conclusion.

“We need to win as a team more often,” Grant
said contentedly, giving Beverly another long kiss.

She kissed him back and climbed off him.
“That may not be possible,” she teased, “if you’re a judge.”

“True,” he said, removing the condom and
zipping his pants. “But look at the bright side, baby. When and if
that day ever comes, just imagine what fun you and I could have in
the judge’s chambers.”

Beverly pushed him playfully. “You’re
insatiable!” She put her clothes back into place; then brushed her
hair.

He laughed. “And you’re not?”

She blushed. “Maybe it’s the effect you have
on me, darling, that makes me crave your body.”

He chuckled again. “I have been known to have
that effect on women.”

“Oh, really?” Beverly met his eyes with a
touch of jealousy. As far as she knew they were exclusive. If they
weren’t on the same page there, she wanted to find out before this
went any further.

Grant sensed that he’d used the wrong choice
of words and quickly sought to rectify that. The last thing he
wanted was to ruin this relationship, something he’d managed to do
too easily in the past. Only none of the previous women in his life
could hold a candle to Beverly Mendoza and he wouldn’t have it any
other way.

“What’s important is that this is the first
time it’s really meant something to me,” he said in earnest. “I
don’t take that lightly, Bev, and I’m definitely not looking at
anyone else.”

She smiled, feeling a sense of relief and
maybe a little left over insecurity. “But you will tell me if you
change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind,” he promised.
Not
as long as there’s the possibility that we can really go somewhere
with this
.

“Neither will I,” she added. She was enjoying
his company more than she had any man’s company in some time. She
was in no hurry to ruin a good thing.

Grant straightened his tie. “So how about if
I take you out to dinner for a victory celebration? Sex always
leaves me famished.”

“Can’t,” Beverly said apologetically, putting
fresh lipstick on after he had taken it all off. “I promised Jaime
pizza tonight.” She couldn’t help but think that though only
twelve, her son sometimes seemed like he was twenty-five with his
maturity and rapidly growing body.

Grant grinned wistfully. “Did I tell you that
I love pizza?”
And would love to get to know your son better, if
you’ll let me.

Beverly squirmed guiltily, knowing he wanted
more than what they had. And so did she. But right now her son was
still her top priority. As were his feelings on the subject.

“Jaime just needs a little time adjusting to
someone else in my life,” she offered contritely.

Grant looked like a wounded puppy. “How much
time does he need—the rest of
your
life?”

Beverly touched her nose thoughtfully. “Not
much longer, Grant,” she hoped. “It’s been just the two of us for
so long, he’s trying to come to terms with the fact that someone
else is now in my life who’s very important to me.”

Beverly realized that along with wanting to
protect Jaime, she was also trying to protect herself, from being
hurt and abandoned, as they had been by his father.

Grant furrowed his brow while trying to be
understanding. “Seems to me it’s time you let someone else take
down that wall you’ve built around the boy.”

“Please be patient, Grant,” Beverly implored
softly, not wanting to spoil what just happened by applying too
much pressure either way. “I just want what’s best for everyone—you
included.” She kissed him on the mouth. “Call me.”

Even as she said that, Beverly knew that it
sounded like she was afraid of commitment. Was she? Not that Grant
had ever suggested he wanted a commitment in so many words. Or
maybe she was confused over the terms
commitment
and
exclusivity
. Didn’t they mean the same thing in a
relationship? Like her, Grant had been married once before. He had
no children and didn’t seem entirely comfortable at the prospect of
ever marrying again. But she was pretty sure he cared for her,
beyond their sexual compatibility.

Beverly wondered if that was that enough to
constitute a real and trusting relationship at the end of the day—a
relationship that included her son as an intricate part of the
team.

Would it ever be enough?

* * *

Grant showed Beverly out the door, waved
good-bye, and settled back into his office musingly. She was the
first woman he’d been with who gave as much as she took—both
sexually and as a prosecutor. He was damned glad to have her on his
side in both departments.

Should he be offered a judgeship, as
expected, it would be all the more reason for them to mesh, without
the competitive thing as trial lawyers that brought them together
and could potentially tear them apart.

Grant’s focus shifted to other issues on his
mind. He picked up the phone and buzzed his secretary.

“Get the D.A. on the line,” he ordered.

A moment later, the heavy voice said, “Yeah,
Grant, what’s up?”

He sighed and glanced out the window
musingly. “We need to talk—”

CHAPTER TWO

He watched from the bushes as she left the
office building, wearing an aqua jogging suit that looked a size
too large on her streamlined frame. He watched as she sucked in a
deep breath of the cool October air and then stretched her limbs in
preparation for what was a normal jog through the park across the
street. She always ran alone, almost as if she considered company
an invasion of her privacy.

That played right into his hands because he
liked to do his thing alone, too.

A slight rustle of the bushes off to the side
of the building drew her attention. For an instant in the waning
sunlight, he saw fear in her face and thought he’d been detected.
But that fear disappeared when she apparently decided it was
nothing but the wind.

He sighed and maintained his low position,
careful not to even twitch. He watched as she glanced up at a
window. The light was on and the blinds were closed. If she
expected someone to open them, she was disappointed. She seemed to
become deeply absorbed in thought for a moment or two, before
crossing the parking lot in a lazy jaunt.

He gave her a couple of minutes to enter the
park, and then emerged from his hideaway. Looking around, he saw no
one. Good. Now it was just him and her.