Free The Furthest City Light by Jeanne Winer Page A

It lasted about nine months and then I received a letter informing me it was over. C’est la vie. So, what’s the game plan today?”
    “Wait a minute. You’re changing the subject too fast. Did you love him, and why did he break it off?”
    “I don’t really want to talk about it.” One of the other inmates had trimmed her hair in a very becoming way. Emily was always pretty but unlike most of my long-term clients who typically gained ten to fifteen pounds eating the starchy jail food, Emily was losing weight. I wondered if she was secretly worrying about the case but didn’t want to tell me. She hated, as she put it, “to distress” me.
    I waited patiently.
    “Don’t be so nosy. How could this possibly be relevant?”
    I shrugged. “I don’t know whether it’s relevant or not. Maybe I am just being nosy, but I represent you on a charge of first-degree murder. Your life is in my hands.”
    “Oh, for God’s sake. Yes, I loved him and he didn’t tell me the reason he wanted to end it. I felt hurt and then I got over it. Satisfied?”
    “Thank you,” I said. “Speaking of past lovers, I had lunch a few days ago with a woman named Janet Ellers.”
    Emily nodded. “Yes, Hal’s ex.”
    “Right. How did you know her name?”
    Emily smiled mysteriously. “I have my ways. Actually, Hal and I used to talk about her. We didn’t keep any secrets.”
    I wondered if I should tell her what Janet looked like. I doubted he’d told her that. If it helped cut some of Emily’s loyalty toward him, I was all for it, but what if it backfired and simply caused more pain, more caving in?
    “One day,” Emily said, reading my mind as usual, “I was looking through Hal’s wallet trying to find a ticket from the dry cleaners, and I found an old photo tucked behind some other pictures. It was Janet’s.”
    “Oh,” I said. “So you know what she looked like?”
    “She looked like me when I first headed off to college.”
    “What did you do?”
    “What did I do? Oh Rachel, sometimes you’re so young and idealistic, so sure of yourself. I put it back in his wallet. I knew how it felt to be rejected.”
    When would I ever learn? Like all of the favorite people in my life, Emily refused to be pigeonholed. Sometimes she acted according to my invisible script, but just as often, she ignored it. How unfair, I thought: to be the best possible defense attorney I had to be a control freak, and at the same time I had to understand and even anticipate that nothing would ever go the way I expected. No wonder I was confused.
    By the middle of the afternoon we’d resolved every motion except the one concerning Dr. Midman, who’d shown up on time looking sleek and elegant (a babe, Vickie would have said). There had been no surprises. As I’d predicted, Judge Thomas granted most of my discovery motions and denied everything else. Janet would not be allowed to testify, whereas the crime scene video, autopsy photos and Hal’s insurance policy were all coming in. Since each of the searches in the case as well as Emily’s statements to the police passed constitutional muster, they were also admissible.
    “All right now,” Judge Thomas announced. “Shall we deal with Ms. Stein’s final motion concerning Dr. Midman?”
    Jeff and I both nodded. I hoped he was as tired as I was.
    “I’ve read your briefs,” the judge said, “as well as an offer of proof from the defense. I understand, however, that Ms. Stein would like Dr. Midman to take the stand and summarize her proposed trial testimony. I will allow a short presentation.”
    I stood up. “Thank you, Judge. As you know, the only issue in this case is self-defense. Without Dr. Midman’s expert testimony concerning the battered woman syndrome, a jury can’t be expected to understand why my client reacted the way she did. Unless Dr. Midman is allowed to educate them concerning the syndrome and to give her opinion as to whether Ms. Watkins exhibits all of the characteristics