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.Also, there lay a thick envelope sitting on his desk, an envelope that contained everything he wanted to know about the Cole Jackson trial, and today seemed as good a day as any to bury himself in it.It would also take his mind off of his missing son.A while back he’d pulled several favors and got the police and coroner’s report as well as the court transcripts in the Jackson case.Now, he sat at his desk in his locked office and spent the next several hours going over everything with a fine tooth comb.He started with the autopsy, scanning to the actual findings.Mrs.Jackson had bruising on both wrists indicating a possible struggle and one stab wound directly to the heart.There was no sign of rape or sexual assault.What surprised him the most was there was absolutely no physical evidence linking Jackson to his wife’s death other than the fact he was covered in her blood.Which in court could be argued off any number of ways by a good attorney, and Jackson had hired the best.During Jackson’s police investigation he swore his innocence, never once wavering from his original story.He was eventually indicted by a Grand Jury.Never once was he offered a plea bargain.The trial, in John’s opinion was a farce.The prosecution knew about the weaknesses in their case so they attacked Jackson’s character and lifestyle any way they could.Jackson’s attorney objected to everything he could and the judge overruled, but the damage had been done.The jury had been biased.There was no murder weapon.No witnesses.Did he really do it?Jackson never took the stand in his own defense.Sometimes that in itself was a sign of guilt, or he could have been protecting something or someone and didn’t want to perjure himself.Both the prosecution and defense’s closing arguments contained dramatic and potent information, but obviously the jury believed the prosecution.John thought, if there ever was a case in which the jury was prejudiced this was it.Clearly that had to be it.There was no evidence against Jackson to warrant a conviction.He also couldn’t believe an appeal was never granted.It was as though they made an example out of him.John truly believed in the judicial system.He had to.His job depended on it.But he knew guilty people often went free and unfortunately innocent people went to prison.In his opinion, even if Jackson did kill his wife, the prosecution had no case.Of course he still hated the bastard’s guts.***Cameron awoke with a smile on his face and feeling odd, different and changed.He wondered why? He’d spent yesterday having sex, and he couldn’t even begin to count how many times.Amber was hot and sexy and oh-so inventive.He wondered where she learned all of it?He’d been shy and tentative the first time and maybe the second, letting Amber take control, but after that he’d felt a surge of confidence and began leading, and it was a day he’d never forget.Nor would he ever forget Amber.She slept soundly beside him, lying on her stomach facing away from him, the covers riding low on her silky back.Her long hair was fanned out on the pillow, and he felt his body waking up.Instead of doing anything about it, he threw on his clothes and walked to the surprisingly busy diner.The parking lot once again overflowed with big-rigs.All he wanted was chocolate milk and a bagel.He ordered two of each.As he entered the room, she stirred on the bed.He placed the food on the night table and kissed the back of her neck.“Hey you.”“Hmm, hey yourself.Where’d you go?”“The diner and I brought food.”Rolling over, she sat up in the bed looking sleepy with her hair tangled all around her and she pointed toward the floor.“Could you pass me my shirt?”Cameron picked up her T-shirt, turned it right side out and handed it to her.He thought she seemed a little uncomfortable with him this morning.He certainly hoped not.He passed her the milk and bagel and sat next to her and ate his food in three bites.After not eating much for the past few days, he was starved.***Amber ate her bagel silently, watching Cameron.She felt a little funny this morning after yesterday and last night.Not necessarily because of the sex, it had been fun and hot, but her stomach did a little flip when she remembered she told him she loved him.He hadn’t said anything, in fact, she didn’t even know if he heard her.God, she hoped he didn’t hear.She didn’t want him thinking she was one of those clingy girls who once they had sex with a boy thought it was love.Then they would follow the boy around even when he told them he didn’t like them anymore.He would be mean to them and they would beg him not to break up with them.They would do anything, did anything to keep him, and that anything turned out to be sex, when and where he wanted it.Amber hugged her knees up to her chest as she fought the shivers raking her body.She had been a fool once like one of those clingy desperate girls, but never again.She’d embarrass herself once, but not twice.“Hey,” she said as she climbed off the bed.“I’m taking a shower.”***Cole stopped off at AJ’s room before he left for his interview with Marlene Simpson.Nothing had changed.He still wouldn’t let him in, nor come out.Once again he told him he’d see him at the concert.As Cole walked down the deserted hallway, he contemplated what was happening.Bloody hell, had the world suddenly gone nuts? Never would he ever have thought AJ, always Mr.Reliable, would go off the deep end about anything.Somehow he had to get him to talk, but right now he had to deal with the pain churning inside his stomach.He didn’t have butterflies—he had an ancient family of Pterodactyls taking flight, causing constant pain with their expansive wingspan.Weren’t they extinct?He’d be damn glad when this interview stood behind him.He must have been out of his mind to have agreed to it in the first place.As much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t go back on his word.Hell, it was probably high time the world met the real him, not some tabloid fabrication created to sell magazines regardless of the fact most of what was printed about him was false and created from imaginative writers’ minds.Marlene had wanted to send a car for him, but he’d refused, the studio was seven blocks away and he could use the exercise and fresh, crisp Chicago air.The wind blew relentlessly, whipping off Lake Michigan, as he made his way down Michigan Shore Drive, causing him to pull up his leather jacket collar, lower his baseball cap on his head and stuff his hands into his pockets.There was a strong nip to this October air.And damn, he mused, it felt good and invigorating [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.Also, there lay a thick envelope sitting on his desk, an envelope that contained everything he wanted to know about the Cole Jackson trial, and today seemed as good a day as any to bury himself in it.It would also take his mind off of his missing son.A while back he’d pulled several favors and got the police and coroner’s report as well as the court transcripts in the Jackson case.Now, he sat at his desk in his locked office and spent the next several hours going over everything with a fine tooth comb.He started with the autopsy, scanning to the actual findings.Mrs.Jackson had bruising on both wrists indicating a possible struggle and one stab wound directly to the heart.There was no sign of rape or sexual assault.What surprised him the most was there was absolutely no physical evidence linking Jackson to his wife’s death other than the fact he was covered in her blood.Which in court could be argued off any number of ways by a good attorney, and Jackson had hired the best.During Jackson’s police investigation he swore his innocence, never once wavering from his original story.He was eventually indicted by a Grand Jury.Never once was he offered a plea bargain.The trial, in John’s opinion was a farce.The prosecution knew about the weaknesses in their case so they attacked Jackson’s character and lifestyle any way they could.Jackson’s attorney objected to everything he could and the judge overruled, but the damage had been done.The jury had been biased.There was no murder weapon.No witnesses.Did he really do it?Jackson never took the stand in his own defense.Sometimes that in itself was a sign of guilt, or he could have been protecting something or someone and didn’t want to perjure himself.Both the prosecution and defense’s closing arguments contained dramatic and potent information, but obviously the jury believed the prosecution.John thought, if there ever was a case in which the jury was prejudiced this was it.Clearly that had to be it.There was no evidence against Jackson to warrant a conviction.He also couldn’t believe an appeal was never granted.It was as though they made an example out of him.John truly believed in the judicial system.He had to.His job depended on it.But he knew guilty people often went free and unfortunately innocent people went to prison.In his opinion, even if Jackson did kill his wife, the prosecution had no case.Of course he still hated the bastard’s guts.***Cameron awoke with a smile on his face and feeling odd, different and changed.He wondered why? He’d spent yesterday having sex, and he couldn’t even begin to count how many times.Amber was hot and sexy and oh-so inventive.He wondered where she learned all of it?He’d been shy and tentative the first time and maybe the second, letting Amber take control, but after that he’d felt a surge of confidence and began leading, and it was a day he’d never forget.Nor would he ever forget Amber.She slept soundly beside him, lying on her stomach facing away from him, the covers riding low on her silky back.Her long hair was fanned out on the pillow, and he felt his body waking up.Instead of doing anything about it, he threw on his clothes and walked to the surprisingly busy diner.The parking lot once again overflowed with big-rigs.All he wanted was chocolate milk and a bagel.He ordered two of each.As he entered the room, she stirred on the bed.He placed the food on the night table and kissed the back of her neck.“Hey you.”“Hmm, hey yourself.Where’d you go?”“The diner and I brought food.”Rolling over, she sat up in the bed looking sleepy with her hair tangled all around her and she pointed toward the floor.“Could you pass me my shirt?”Cameron picked up her T-shirt, turned it right side out and handed it to her.He thought she seemed a little uncomfortable with him this morning.He certainly hoped not.He passed her the milk and bagel and sat next to her and ate his food in three bites.After not eating much for the past few days, he was starved.***Amber ate her bagel silently, watching Cameron.She felt a little funny this morning after yesterday and last night.Not necessarily because of the sex, it had been fun and hot, but her stomach did a little flip when she remembered she told him she loved him.He hadn’t said anything, in fact, she didn’t even know if he heard her.God, she hoped he didn’t hear.She didn’t want him thinking she was one of those clingy girls who once they had sex with a boy thought it was love.Then they would follow the boy around even when he told them he didn’t like them anymore.He would be mean to them and they would beg him not to break up with them.They would do anything, did anything to keep him, and that anything turned out to be sex, when and where he wanted it.Amber hugged her knees up to her chest as she fought the shivers raking her body.She had been a fool once like one of those clingy desperate girls, but never again.She’d embarrass herself once, but not twice.“Hey,” she said as she climbed off the bed.“I’m taking a shower.”***Cole stopped off at AJ’s room before he left for his interview with Marlene Simpson.Nothing had changed.He still wouldn’t let him in, nor come out.Once again he told him he’d see him at the concert.As Cole walked down the deserted hallway, he contemplated what was happening.Bloody hell, had the world suddenly gone nuts? Never would he ever have thought AJ, always Mr.Reliable, would go off the deep end about anything.Somehow he had to get him to talk, but right now he had to deal with the pain churning inside his stomach.He didn’t have butterflies—he had an ancient family of Pterodactyls taking flight, causing constant pain with their expansive wingspan.Weren’t they extinct?He’d be damn glad when this interview stood behind him.He must have been out of his mind to have agreed to it in the first place.As much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t go back on his word.Hell, it was probably high time the world met the real him, not some tabloid fabrication created to sell magazines regardless of the fact most of what was printed about him was false and created from imaginative writers’ minds.Marlene had wanted to send a car for him, but he’d refused, the studio was seven blocks away and he could use the exercise and fresh, crisp Chicago air.The wind blew relentlessly, whipping off Lake Michigan, as he made his way down Michigan Shore Drive, causing him to pull up his leather jacket collar, lower his baseball cap on his head and stuff his hands into his pockets.There was a strong nip to this October air.And damn, he mused, it felt good and invigorating [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]