Vegas Stripped by Stephanie Caffrey

Author:Stephanie Caffrey [Caffrey, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503221635
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 23582051
Publisher: CreateSpace Publishing
Published: 2013-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Ethan was on the morning news again, although it was only because he had a preliminary appearance in court at two o'clock. On TV crime shows, defendants were arrested one day and tried before a jury the next, but in the real world there were an endless series of delays, hearings, and motions. I figured Ethan would be lucky to see a trial this year.

As I munched on some Cheerios, I couldn't shake the idea that Patty might somehow be involved in Mickey Mayfield's murder. Andrew had pooh-poohed the idea, and I agreed with him that Patty probably would not have pulled the trigger herself. She seemed much too…proper. Plus, she would have shown up on some of the security videos without any plausible reason for being in the area. But Patty was so protective of her son that I wouldn't put it past her to try to get rid of Ethan's competition. Especially since she clearly couldn't stand the competition's guts. I couldn't put my finger on it, but she was just giving off a weird vibe that I had trouble explaining to Andrew. And it didn't help that none of our other angles were working out. It was all well and good to find some dirt on Mayfield to possibly create reasonable doubt in the jury's mind, but we were light years away from finding an actual suspect with a pulse.

By the end of my bowl of Cheerios, I had decided to snoop around into Patty's life a little bit, but I had no idea how to approach such a delicate undertaking. After all, she was my client's mother, and the two of them were extremely close. I wasn't even sure that Ethan would want me to go down that road, even if his mom did prove to be involved. Maybe he'd rather serve the time himself, although I found that pretty doubtful. I had to figure out a way to raise the issue with him without having him flip out on me. That meant I had to go to jail.

I hadn't been inside the business end of jail in almost four years. It's a long, embarrassing story involving a neighbor's cat, his balcony, and an exploding pickle, and it landed me in the big house overnight. Luckily, the DA's office had no idea what to charge me with, so the prosecutor let me go the next morning.

When I arrived a little after eleven o'clock, I quickly learned that visiting hours were over. Luckily, that was only true if you were a friend or relative of the inmate you wanted to visit. For "professionals" like me (this took some convincing of a very skeptical desk clerk), however, visiting hours were all day long. Except for the lunch hour, as the desk guard informed me no fewer than three times.

It took about twenty minutes before Ethan emerged to meet me. He was surprised but obviously happy to have a visitor. I didn't quite know what to expect. It

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