The Fatal Defence by Freya Atwood

Author:Freya Atwood [Atwood, Freya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

What is it about bad luck? How once it starts, it has a tendency to keep on coming because why the hell not? Like an avalanche, the tiniest misstep causes the first trickle of snow to start rolling down the mountainside, and before you know it, you’re staring certain death in the face? A tad hyperbolic, perhaps, but I felt that in this case, it was warranted.

It started with the previous night, what I’d learned about Jeremey Bourdier—or rather what I’d not learned. My entire case had been predicated on the belief that he had bought drugs outside of Tomorrow, that he was responsible for taking them while Gabriel sat safe and sound with nothing on his mind but the urge to go home and get a good night’s sleep. That theory was now defunct, the equivalent of taking a rocket launcher to the face, leaving behind a smoldering stump of a neck from which I’d have to rebuild. If that was even possible.

It sat with me all night and all morning. As I tried to fall asleep. As I puttered around my apartment, pulling out my hair in a bid to come up with a new angle. There was one there… there had to be. All I needed was to think of what it might be, and I’d be back on track.

But then that bad luck struck again. A phone call this time, one which I almost didn’t answer because I knew even without picking it up that it had to be bad.

“Hudson,” I sighed as I collapsed on my couch. I was still wearing my pajamas, unshowered, the living embodiment of pathetic. “Before you say anything, I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

“Huh?” Hudson said on the other end of the line. “What are you talking about?”

I sat up and looked around as if expecting a camera crew to be filming me—like I was being watched for the entertainment of others. “Ah… this is about last night, isn’t it?”

That’s what I assumed, that the dealer had gone to the cops because why not?

“Why? What did you do last night?”

“Ummm… nothing. Stayed in and watched TV,” I said hurriedly.

Hudson groaned. “Well, that’s a lie. And ordinarily, I’d press you about it. But I’m afraid I have bigger fish to fry right now.”

My stomach sunk through the couch. “W-what are you talking about? What happened?”

“I just got off the phone with the D.A. They have a search warrant for Gabriel’s apartment, and they’re on the way there right now.”

“What?!” I leaped to my feet. “How is that even—what do they expect to find?”

“Drugs, Ethan. They expect to find drugs.”

If this had been yesterday, I might have laughed. I might have told Hudson to wish the D.A. good luck because my client was innocent and there was no chance they’d find anything of the sort in his apartment. But this wasn’t yesterday, and my client’s innocence was suddenly looking considerably less likely.

“They’re on the way there now?” I rushed to my bedroom.

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