Free Blood Is Thicker Than Water (A New Adult Dark Thriller Series of Mystery and Suspense) ( free series of thriller, mystery, suspense and horror) (Next Of Kin Book 1) by Aray Brown Page B
Authors: Aray Brown
into a violent man, didn’t they? I think you’re lying. I think you knew about the affair. You hated Alex Price and that he had a hold on her. You wanted to kill him. Zoe stopped you. You were so blinded by hurt and anger that you made believe she was Alex Price, and you did to her what you wanted to do with him.” She replied.
“No, I’m innocent.” Maize pleaded.
“Tell that to the blood on your hands. The prosecution rests.”
“I remember when I fell in love with this country, and every single thing it stands for. I was proud to recite the pledge of allegiance. I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. The operative words. Justice for all. If we let Mr. Blevins get by with just a slap on the wrist. The system fails. We fail. “She said, faced the jurors.
Spoonie smoothed out the suit and faced the people who held his friend’s life in their hands. He had the kind of confidence that some people mistake as being cocky and was calm, cool and collected for the most part, tried to force himself to think of this as just another case.
“We’ve heard numerous testimonies. But the one that should stick out the most is my client’s. He’s no cold-blooded criminal. He’s a victim. He’s hurting the same way those children are hurting. Yes, his fingerprints were found on the murder weapons, I’m not denying that. But all the evidence that’s presented before us has not been conclusive. He loved her. She loved him. He loved her kids. What was his motive? He knew nothing about the affair nor the baby. He was working late. Got a threatening phone call and rushed home to save his wife. But he was too late. His wife lay before him, an empty shell. If Mr. Blevins would have gotten there five minutes earlier, there would be two bodies instead of one. If you convict an innocent man, how will you sleep at night?”
Retracing steps, Spoonie wondered if the job was done to the best of his ability.
If the jurors were in favor of the prosecutor, he’d be held responsible. A great deal of weight was on his shoulders. This was his friend’s life he was talking about and the fact that he was a perfectionist didn’t help. Maize’s fate was unclear.
The bailiff hauled Maize back to the holding cell. Spoonie went back to the think tank, presumably known as his corner office at Hamilton & Dunn.
Spoonie traipsed past a bunch of colleagues and interns, the troubled demeanor fitting him like a glove, then making brief eye contact with the receptionist.
“I don’t want to be disturbed.” Spoonie said, roughly. She nodded her head in agreement. Twisting the knob, Spoonie gained entry to his lavish office, and then shut the door.
He treaded aimlessly to the desk, swiveled back in the lounger, propped his feet up, hands behind his head as he recalled the trial… until the intercom banged in his head like a drum.
“I thought I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed.” He answered, annoyed.
“I figured this would be an exception sir.” She replied, sweetly.
“What is it?” He asked, harshly.
* * * * * *
“Have you reached a verdict?” The judge asked.
“Yes your honor.” The foreman replied.
“Will the defendants please rise?” The judge announced.
“What say you?”
“In murder in the first degree we the jury, find the defendant guilty.”
A hush fell over the crowd. Maize hung his head. The prosecutor beamed.
“Maize Blevins, I sentence you to twenty-five years in a maximum security prison. This court is now adjourned.” The judge thumped the gavel.
The prosecutor frowned. Spoonie smiled. It wasn’t the verdict he was hoping for, however it was a lesser sentence than planned. He directed his attention to the woman, acknowledged her, then Maize. He would be a free man at the age of
“No, I’m innocent.” Maize pleaded.
“Tell that to the blood on your hands. The prosecution rests.”
“I remember when I fell in love with this country, and every single thing it stands for. I was proud to recite the pledge of allegiance. I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. The operative words. Justice for all. If we let Mr. Blevins get by with just a slap on the wrist. The system fails. We fail. “She said, faced the jurors.
Spoonie smoothed out the suit and faced the people who held his friend’s life in their hands. He had the kind of confidence that some people mistake as being cocky and was calm, cool and collected for the most part, tried to force himself to think of this as just another case.
“We’ve heard numerous testimonies. But the one that should stick out the most is my client’s. He’s no cold-blooded criminal. He’s a victim. He’s hurting the same way those children are hurting. Yes, his fingerprints were found on the murder weapons, I’m not denying that. But all the evidence that’s presented before us has not been conclusive. He loved her. She loved him. He loved her kids. What was his motive? He knew nothing about the affair nor the baby. He was working late. Got a threatening phone call and rushed home to save his wife. But he was too late. His wife lay before him, an empty shell. If Mr. Blevins would have gotten there five minutes earlier, there would be two bodies instead of one. If you convict an innocent man, how will you sleep at night?”
Retracing steps, Spoonie wondered if the job was done to the best of his ability.
If the jurors were in favor of the prosecutor, he’d be held responsible. A great deal of weight was on his shoulders. This was his friend’s life he was talking about and the fact that he was a perfectionist didn’t help. Maize’s fate was unclear.
The bailiff hauled Maize back to the holding cell. Spoonie went back to the think tank, presumably known as his corner office at Hamilton & Dunn.
Spoonie traipsed past a bunch of colleagues and interns, the troubled demeanor fitting him like a glove, then making brief eye contact with the receptionist.
“I don’t want to be disturbed.” Spoonie said, roughly. She nodded her head in agreement. Twisting the knob, Spoonie gained entry to his lavish office, and then shut the door.
He treaded aimlessly to the desk, swiveled back in the lounger, propped his feet up, hands behind his head as he recalled the trial… until the intercom banged in his head like a drum.
“I thought I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed.” He answered, annoyed.
“I figured this would be an exception sir.” She replied, sweetly.
“What is it?” He asked, harshly.
* * * * * *
“Have you reached a verdict?” The judge asked.
“Yes your honor.” The foreman replied.
“Will the defendants please rise?” The judge announced.
“What say you?”
“In murder in the first degree we the jury, find the defendant guilty.”
A hush fell over the crowd. Maize hung his head. The prosecutor beamed.
“Maize Blevins, I sentence you to twenty-five years in a maximum security prison. This court is now adjourned.” The judge thumped the gavel.
The prosecutor frowned. Spoonie smiled. It wasn’t the verdict he was hoping for, however it was a lesser sentence than planned. He directed his attention to the woman, acknowledged her, then Maize. He would be a free man at the age of
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