“You’re a lawyer, Michael. How likely is it that they’ll pin all this crap on David?”
Worry hooded Michael’s green eyes and he shook his head. “I just don’t know. Depends on what evidence they have.”
The sound Rafe emitted was derisive. “That’s just it. The prosecutor says he has a ton of evidence against David. He’s told that to everyone who will listen.”
“Yes, I’ve read it in the paper.” Michael’s dark head bobbed now. “Seen it on the evening news.”
“Yet, we can find nothing that looks incriminating in the discovery Libby’s received. The prosecutor is using every excuse in the book to keep the implicating evidence out of our hands.”
“He’s just playing for time, and his stalling tells me that he’s not really sure of his case strategy. But he’ll soon run out of excuses. Especially if Libby keeps filing those discovery motions and hounding the judge.” A shadow of a smile curled the edges of Michael’s mouth. “Surprise evidence might generate exciting television drama; however, it paves the way for poor justice. The judge knows that. So do all the attorneys involved. Libby’s one hell of a lawyer. She knows what she’s doing. She’ll eventually get her hands on everything that the opposing counsel has on David.”
Rafe saw that the waitress was looking impatient as she stood at the counter with his order. He bid Michael goodbye, thanking him for the information about the new charges David might be facing.
After paying for his coffee, Rafe pushed his way out the door and into the foggy morning, dread sitting in his stomach like a brick at the thought of having to be the bearer of bad news.
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