Strong Alibi by K.C. Turner (story reading txt) 📗

breaking into her house, and running her off the road. Of course, there wasn’t enough evidence to prove some of the charges. And since she wasn’t seriously injured in the car accident, not to mention the fact that he had a public defender who dreamed of being a big city defense attorney, Johnnie walked away with basically a slap on the hand. She didn’t really care about him. She cared more about the man who truly wanted to hurt her, Steve Robinson. The man who everyone believed hired Johnnie to do his dirty work but no one could prove it. She could only hope his parole hearing went in her favor.

“Nope. Sorry, Polk is still an idiot. You would be a better attorney than he is. Johnnie just did what most people don’t think of; he kept his mouth shut and took the deal offered to him. I just wish you would consider speaking at the hearing. You’re the victim. You have every right to be there. Let him know he doesn’t scare you anymore.”

“Please stop saying that.” She despised being referred to as a victim.

China rolled her eyes at the fact she had to be politically correct. “Excuse me. Sur-vi-vor. Come on, Liz.”

“Maybe I am still a victim. Cheese and rice, I see a shrink every month; I take Valium like they’re Tums; and yes, I admit it, he still scares the shit out of me. My showing up there is not going to sway the parole board’s decision. We deal with victims every day. We’re supposed to be their voice. How many times do you think the prosecutor and the judge really care what they think or what they have to say? If the defendant has a decent attorney and they accept a lesser charge, who cares? The prosecutors still get their win and the court still makes their money. Plain and simple.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that but we’re not talking about the victims at work. We’re talking about you. And I’m worried that psycho is going to get out. Can you just consider it? With Marilyn’s recommendation and your face-to-face statement, there’s probably a better chance of him not getting out.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath. A part of her knew China was right. Marilyn Bennett was their boss. She was also Annapolis County’s prosecuting attorney, who happened to prosecute the case against Steve and put him in Mansfield Correctional for eight years. Her written recommendation to keep him in would help, but it was still a mere recommendation and the parole board had no obligation to follow it.

It also didn’t stop Elizabeth from thinking of the repercussions if she showed up to speak at the hearing. Steve was a manipulator. He was cunning and slick in his maneuvers. She was sure he already had a plan of attack. She was sure he had been planning it for the past six years while he was locked up.

Placing her empty bottle in the cooler and lying on her back to face the rays she said, “Look, I’ll think about it. Can we just enjoy the rest of our beach day and talk about something else? Or, not talk about anything?”

China gave her a sigh. “Sorry, I won’t say anything more about it.”

Elizabeth looked at her pursing her lips as if she didn’t believe her.

“Okay, okay! I promise. Not another word,” she said as she dug her bum into the sand and laid her head down to rest.

They basked in the sun for hours in near silence as the sweat beads formed on top of their tanning lotion. A jet ski passed in the distance and tiny waves rolled upon the shoreline in its wake. Elizabeth rolled over, gently rubbed her eyes, and looked to her phone for the time. “Wow, it’s almost two o’clock already. Are you about ready to head back?”

China moaned, “Do we have to? Just a little longer?”

“Okay, one more beer and then I would like to take a nap before dinner. Angel will be here around six.”

“You should really stop calling him Angel. It sounds too, well, angelic. Mar-ti-nez…” she said with a roll of the tongue. “Just sounds sexier, ya know?”

Grinning, Elizabeth flirted, “Hmm. How do you know I don’t?”

She was rather excited for her date and had the entire evening planned. Angel Martinez was the first man Elizabeth had even considered dating since her previous relationship ended in such a disaster. For six years she warded off men in general. So much so, all of the attorneys she encountered at court accused her of being a man hater. She didn’t hate men: Quite the contrary. She simply hated men who beat their women.

As a court advocate for women of domestic violence, defense attorneys were rarely looking for Elizabeth’s opinion on anything. Not that she cared in the least what they thought of her. She fought them every step of the way when the situation and her victim called for it. Angel was different. Not only was he one of Silverton, Ohio’s finest detectives, helping to put away the psychopaths of the world, he and Elizabeth were a lot alike on many levels. Most importantly, they were both survivors trying to fight the good fight.

Elizabeth lightly shook China’s arm to wake her out of her sun coma. “China, hey, sorry hun, but we should get back.”

Groaning and reluctantly moving from her bed in the sand, China said, “Noooo! Ugh, beach day can’t be over.”

“We still have a few good weeks left,” she reassured.

They gathered their things after shaking out the sand and walked back to the lake house. Reaching her vehicle, China reached over to Elizabeth, hugged her tight, and grasped her shoulders before saying, “Have a great time tonight.” She flung her beach bag into the back seat and asked, “What are you doing tomorrow? Wanna get together.”

“I was kind of planning on brunch. In bed.”

China shook her hips in a sexy manner. “Well I’ll be damned! Lookin’ to