Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“No. I want you.” Nick’s tone remained steely.
“I doubt Pierce gave us all the evidence against you.”
He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But fifteen years in a cement room would leave a skeleton with decent clothing, which might be in good enough condition to still contain DNA. But we won’t be able to see any evidence unless I’m charged.”
“Why would you agree to give Pierce your DNA?” I’d tried to stop him, but Nick had easily gone along with the cheek swab.
“Because with the knife, he has probable cause to get a warrant for it. Now, we can always say I voluntarily gave it up the first time he asked. It’s possible my DNA is on my father’s shirt since I punched him a few times that night.”
We headed down the icy walk to his building and climbed the stairs to get inside, going past the receptionist, who I waved at before walking to the back and Nick’s office. Not surprisingly, his brothers were already sitting in the chairs, both with cut-crystal glasses in front of them, half-full of liquid.
“Hey, that’s my good scotch,” Nick protested, grabbing the bottle.
“Too late,” Ricky said, grinning.
I shut the door. “I take it you two heard?”
Dominick nodded. He was also tall but not as muscled as his twin. “Yeah, we got the call from Detective Pierce to come speak with him, and rumors are already flying. Was it really Dad?”
Nick crossed around his desk. “Apparently. They identified him by his dental records.”
Ricky shoved a stack of files off another guest chair and pulled it between him and Dom. “Have a seat, Anna Banana.”
I frowned. This wasn’t the right setup. “Thank you, but no.” I walked around Nick’s desk and pointed at the other chair. “You sit there. I’m here.” Nick’s frown accompanied a growl. “I mean it. If you want me to defend you, I have to figure out what’s going on here.” I used my best lawyer voice. “Plus, you’re going to be my brother-in-law, so I would very much prefer that you not end up in prison.”
Sighing, he reached inside his bottom drawer and pulled out two more glasses to pour scotch into. He nudged one toward me, then crossed around to sit between his brothers. I took his seat, feeling small in the large leather executive chair. It was much nicer than mine, but way too big. A silver-framed picture of the three of them as teens on a football field took a place of prominence by his computer, next to a picture of Tessa. Their mom was in the background of the family shot. Had their father taken the picture? Did Nick want one good memory of the man? It made sense.
I pulled myself back to the present and stared at the three now adult Basanelli boys.
One would probably find their pictures under charming and good-looking in the dictionary, or maybe listed under a hint of devilment because they all had it. Nick was only a year older than the twins, and they all had black hair. Where Nick’s eyes were brown, Rick’s were green, and Dominick’s were more of a greenish-brown. They were all tall and broad, but Dominick had a wider, more rugged jaw, and Ricky a sharper face than Nick’s. However, there was absolutely no doubt they were brothers.
I took a deep breath. “What happened that night?”
“Nothing.” Dominick shook his head. “We went home after football practice. It was a Friday night. Mom and Dad were fighting like usual.” He looked at his older brother. “Didn’t he punch you, Nick?”
“No, it was me,” Ricky said.
“Oh, yeah,” Dom agreed. “So, we grabbed our stuff and headed out, determined to spend the entire weekend down by the river.”
Nick tucked his chin. “Tell her the full truth. She’s our lawyer. I already gave a full and complete statement to the detective.”
Dominick looked at Nick. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Plus, your lawyer needs to know everything. By the way, you are representing us, aren’t you?” Nick’s expression strongly suggested I should take the case.
I pressed a palm to my eyebrow, trying to banish the headache I felt coming on. “I don’t know, Nick. I’ve never tried a murder case. It’s...”
“We want you,” Nick said evenly. “You’re a good lawyer, and I’ll help. I’m not going outside of the family for this.”
The fact that he’d called me family warmed me throughout. The responsibility of saving him also scared the heck out of me. “Okay,” I said. What would I do if they’d killed their father? I mean, I would still defend them, but I wasn’t sure I was that good of a lawyer. I certainly wasn’t that experienced.
“We didn’t kill him,” Nick said as if reading my mind—or, rather, my expression.
“Good.” I believed him. “What happened that night?”
He swallowed. “It’s like Dom said. We got home, and the bastard was on a tear. He had worked the early shift and was already home. He smacked my mom and then Ricky. I lost it. I attacked him, and he threw me across the room. I mean, I was fifteen and gaining some muscle, but he was a miner and tougher.”