Hi! How's everyone been doing? How do the shorter chapters feel? As much as I want this book to retain the quality of a book traditionally published, I've figured out a way to split the chapters into shorter scenes for easy entertainment!
I'm heading to the gym again! With my hectic schedule of work and writing, adding a new item to the itinerary seems unrealistic, but I'll try to see this through.
Anyway, onto my story.
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Carter Wellington slumped on the Poliform chair mirroring Christina's desk. He was alone and wore a look of a beggar. Christina sat up straighter in her seat, thumbing through Terrence Gresham's case file for what seemed to be the hundredth time. As far as witnesses went, Christina had two people willing to be prepped and placed on the stand. She knew his pervious case was a bias, it influenced many judgements whenever his name was mentioned. She could only wonder what would be left of his image after he's released from custody? Mere crumbs of a life he'd once lavished. She'd wondered whether Gresham Square would survive the scandal or if it'll fold up like many industries over the years, Terrence Gresham would be forced into an early retirement.
Christina looked up at her colleague. "You're not being completely honest with me." She deadpanned. If he knew something about Terrence's case, something that could help keep him from the clutches of the death penalty, Christina needed her friend to fess up. Carter shook his head, his mouth opening, and closing. He cleared his throat rubbing the back of his neck, an unconscious habit.
"I really don't know what to tell you, Christina," The man in the Ralph Lauren suit relinquishing the opportunity to assist a dear friend in one of her most trying moments was one she was beginning to have second thoughts about. Once upon a time, Christina could recall how close she was to Carter, how many cases they'd collectively handled, but with time, they'd reached a cross-roads; he didn't even know about her diagnoses, he didn't know that she'd begun chemotherapy, it's like with time they'd gone from friends to strangers. Christina needed honesty if she were going to make even the slightest bit of progress before Terrence's hearing, she needed to know the man who'd walked into that arraignment bound by chains and handcuffs.
"I think you know exactly what you're leaving out, but you're afraid to tell me." Carter frowned.
"Why would I be afraid to tell you anything? We're friends, I would never keep any thing from you." He scooted closer to the table. "Listen, I hate what's happening to Terrence, and I see how much this hurts you, but you've got to believe that I would help you if I could. I would never lie to you, you know that." Christina leaned back in her leather desk chair forming a triangle with her forefingers and thumbs.
"I never said you were lying, Carter, I merely want to know that part of the story you're consciously leaving out." He paused gauging the situation. There wasn't much else that he could do, more so backed into a corner by her intuition. She was always so stubborn when she caught a bone.
"I don't know what to say." He sighed. She didn't move, her features were condescending. She wasn't born yesterday. He was going to help her, the sooner he came to terms with that and spilled the beans, the sooner she could build a strategy to persuade the jury.
"Let me make something clear to you, Carter. You claim you're not leaving anything out, that you're not lying to me, but why don't you tell me a little about your involvement in the September Trade-fair. Or are you denying your involvement in general?" She asked. She couldn't help but feel her impatience ratchet up a notch. His shoulders fell.
"I was a share holder," Carter mumbled underneath his breath, his pitch nearly inaudible, she would have missed it. "I couldn't see myself working underneath my father's name for the rest of my life, you work with him, you know how unbearable he can be." Christina nodded urging him to continue. "I bought half of my salary in shares prescribed by Gresham Square, prescribed by Terrence and Lawrence."
"Lawrence advised you to buy shares in these companies?" It was one thing to pry information from her colleague, it was another to build a befitting story that would convince the sitting jury. Her tone dropped with her question. She was relying on her one-year psychology degree to understand Carter Wellington's perspective.
"I don't know if it was a scheme, but Lawrence seemed hesitant, almost like he knew these stocks were going to plummet."
"Was there at any point a fallout before you were persuaded to buy the stocks?" Carter nodded.
"Yes, but at the time I thought nothing of it. But there was a look in Terrence, and call me crazy but It made me damn uncomfortable."
"After the trade-fair flop, I presume you were one of the angry and agitated investors who'd returned to Gresham Square for a refund?" He nodded, gazing blankly out her window.
"I wasn't the only one, there were a bunch of us, even Harper was there which was startling." Christina fell silent, her brows creased and eyes fixed broad on an absent minded Carter Wellington.
"Harper owned shares in the prescribed companies before the trade-fair?" He shook his head rubbing the back of his neck. He was nervous. What did that mean? How was Harper connected to the murder? She clearly couldn't have killed Lawrence on her own.
"Aren't you going to say anything, Carter? Or was I not meant to know about Harper's involvement in Terrence Gresham's case?"
"She was there, but she didn't seem angry, she was calm." Christina sat up straighter in her seat. "Almost like she didn't even know about the trade-fair."
"Wait!" He looked up at her, piercing blues trailing her hickory eyes brimming with hope. "Doesn't that mean that at the very least she could have seen what had happened after the generators and inverters were switched off for the night?" He paused, eyes squeezed shut. They fluttered open. "That she knew who'd killed Lawrence Harrington?"
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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...
