Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Jason Lansing,” an older gentleman greets me as we round a corner into a small room. He’s dressed in a finely tailored suit and holds out his hand. “Blake Haywood.”
“Mr. Haywood.” I shake his hand firmly. “Angela Simpson sent you?”
He nods, releasing my hand and gesturing toward the chairs set up at a small table. “Please, take a seat.”
I sit down across from him.
He immediately gets down to business. “I’ve spoken with the police. They’ve outlined the charges against you.” He opens his briefcase.
My stomach churns. “What are they saying?”
“Assault and battery, as you’re aware,” Haywood replies. He glances up at me, his eyes grave but not without sympathy. “It’s a serious charge, Dr. Lansing.”
I swallow hard to tamp down the nausea that’s clawing up my throat. “But I didn’t do it.”
“I believe you,” Haywood says, his gaze steady on my face. “But it’s not about what I believe. It’s about what we can prove in court.”
I nod. “What do we do now?”
Haywood leans back in his chair. “We build our case. We gather evidence to show that you aren’t guilty of these charges.”
“But how? I was alone, and I have no alibi. I’m not even sure when he got attacked.”
“First, let’s not panic,” Haywood says. “Just because you don’t have an alibi doesn’t automatically mean you’re guilty. There are still many avenues we can explore.” He adjusts his glasses, looks at me intently. “We’ll start by retrieving all the security footage from around the area during the time of the assault. Second, we’ll look for any signs that someone had a motive to harm Ralph or to frame you. Don’t forget, there’s also forensic evidence to consider.”
I nod slowly, trying to absorb everything he’s saying while also dealing with the gnawing fear in my gut. Haywood is calm and composed, but this situation is anything but.
“Forensic evidence,” I say. “Like DNA.”
Haywood nods. “The attacker must have left behind some physical evidence at the crime scene. Blood, hair, fingerprints. They’re all pieces of the puzzle that could help us prove your innocence.”
His words give me a glimmer of hope. “So we have a chance?”
“We always have a chance, Dr. Lansing,” Haywood replies. “The key is to remain calm and focused. We can’t let them see us sweat.”
I take a deep breath. “Thank you, Mr. Haywood. For everything.”
“Don’t thank me yet. But I do have some good news. I’ve arranged for your arraignment”—he looks at his watch—“in about twenty minutes.”
“You’re kidding. You got me on the docket today?”
“Never underestimate the power of your girlfriend’s family, Dr. Lansing. The Steels are royalty in Colorado.”
“I thought that was just on the Western Slope.”
“Nope.” He checks his watch again. “Be glad you have one in your corner. It will serve you well.” He rises and knocks on the door.
A uniformed officer enters. “You done?”
“For now,” Haywood says. “But I need to get Dr. Lansing to court for his arraignment.”
The officer raises an eyebrow. “Today?”
“Yes. Judge Lowe agreed to add him to his docket before the end of the day.”
“Nice to have connections,” the officer murmurs.
“Indeed,” Haywood says with a nod. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
The officer steps aside, and we walk past him and out of the room.
My mind races over everything that’s happened. I replay every piece of the puzzle, trying to find a clue that might lead to my exoneration.
Haywood turns to me as we enter the courthouse. “The arraignment is pretty straightforward. The judge will read the charges against you, ask for your plea, and then decide on bail.”
“Bail?” I ask.
“Yes,” he answers. “It’s possible, but it depends on several factors—the seriousness of the charges, your prior record, ties to the community, and risk of flight.”
“I have no prior record,” I tell him earnestly. “And no reason to run.”
The lie tastes like acid on my tongue.
I have the ultimate reason to run. To Switzerland. To regain my livelihood.
But that’s out of the question now. I’m not a criminal, and I won’t break the law by running.
“Your lack of criminal history, not to mention your connection to the community through your work, will certainly help your case.”
As we approach the courtroom, a wave of fear washes over me. This is it. The start of the battle to save my life from a wrongful conviction.
“In there”—Haywood points at the imposing wooden doors—“you are not just Dr. Jason Lansing. You are my client, and I am here to protect you. Trust me, listen to me, and we will get through this together.”
With a deep breath, I nod. We enter the courtroom, and a collective wave of gazes falls on me.
Haywood leans in close, talking quietly so only I can hear. “Stand tall, Jason. Don’t give them anything to read into.”
I follow his advice as best as I can, taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart.