Hi, it's Nenny... though you already know that... okay, I sound weird in this author's note, but I guess that's why my baby cousin got me a pin with that written on it... it was really cool though.
I have heard all your complaints and pleas for shorter chapters and I'm sorry it took nearly ten chapters for this change to be implemented... gosh I sound like a government.
But from now on, I will be updating once every day by 12:00 AM CET one short and quality chapter of To New York's Attorney! (Please check local time)
If you haven't already added this book to your library, please do, so you don't miss an update...
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Tuesday 6th
There was an explosion in her brain... the good sort... the type that carries more possibilities than she could be conscious of... but there were hundreds of ideas there in that buzz of electricity... she could feel it. It was because of the case file on her desk, Terrence Gresham's case file, a welcome greeting on her desk as she strode resolutely into her office. She couldn't say she hadn't expected it. It would be a challenge to imagine a more suitable state prosecutor for the Lawrence Harrington murder case. Without a second opinion, she knew what charges she needed to file.
Terrence Gresham charged with first degree murder of his colleague Lawrence Harrington.
There was a brief knock on her door, once, twice, the sound reverberated her spacious workplace before a head of blonde hair peeked through the crack. She recognized him, and his piercing blue eyes. He was confident as he strode further into the district attorney's office, hands buried in his pockets, but his eyes were shifty, nervous.
"It's actually happening." His voice was like honey, warm and nice, but his words had the district attorney assuming he was captive by disbelief. It was one thing to make a single mistake one night, it's another to destroy another man's life just to fix it. But the blonde haired man wasn't ready to take responsibility. He wasn't the kind of person to be tangled in a web of illicit activities--he couldn't say he didn't dabble in the use of certain illicit drugs during his college years and law school, but who didn't? He didn't want to think of himself as a bad person, he'd just done a bad thing. For gods sakes, he was the last person to even speak in most arguments let alone cause an argument that lead to a man's neck being snapped.
"Don't try to back out of this now. Terrence is the most likely suspect. The murder weapon has already been entered into evidence by Barron Harrington." His brows creased, shoulders taught and eyes distant. Fear sat like a pillow over his mouth and nose. Enough air got by for his body to function, but it was crippling all the same.
"But all we have on him are the damn phone records and the weapon, a gun I snatched from Lawrence's desk." Harper shook her head rounding her table and dropping into her seat.
"That was Terrence's gun. He'd long lost it, but Lawrence kept it. Said it meant something to him, I guess we'll never figure it out because, in case you forgot; dead men tell no tales."
The blonde haired brute shook his head, joining her by the table. "That doesn't change the fact that I pulled the trigger, I snapped his neck! I murdered Lawrence and I covered it up with a gun shot and an old man is going to die for it."
"Would you rather you died for it?" Harper shot back, eyes ablaze with irritation. "You did it out of fear. You knew what he was going to do to me. You both got into a struggle and you snapped his neck."
"We should have ended it there. I would have had a lighter sentence." He was beginning to give her a headache. If this is what all men were like when they saved a woman's life, she was fine saving herself from now on.
"You were never going to turn yourself in." She added, sorting through the rest of her files. "Let's not forget that I bribed the hospital to alter the results for the autopsy, so if you go down you're taking me with you, and I don't go down for other people." The man didn't understand why after the adrenaline had died down, he'd become so shaken up, like a shivering cat, he couldn't trust anyone. Then he wondered how Harper was so calm. In a situation as dire and worrisome as this, she was still as a pond on a warm spring morning.
"She's going to hate me."
"You're not planning to tell anyone about this are you?" Harper almost seemed... moved by his words. He wasn't sure if the look in her eye was a warning or fear, but it freaked him out. He shook his head.
"Lawrence Harrington's murder wouldn't be the only one the NYPD would be investigating if you do."
. . .
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To New York's Attorney | Completed
Mystery / Thriller"Was his DNA on the weapon?" Silence. "It's his gun right? He'd pulled the trigger right? Was Terrence Gresham's DNA on the weapon?" He ran a hand through his chestnut hair. "Maybe you're right, maybe we shouldn't think about Monday, but remember o...
