Blood, Bullets and Lies

The bright afternoon sun reflects off the pavement as Jake sprints across the empty parking lot, his mind racing. I need to find something, anything that'll discredit her testimony—fast. His thoughts are running ninety to nothing, desperate to figure out how to save the case.

The defense attorney had added a witness to his expansive list, claiming the woman hadn't come forward until late last night. She'd been away on a trip and only learned about the trial after her return, providing proof of her absence. The judge had approved the attorney's request, granting Jake additional time to prepare.

Jake had sent May Winters, his second chair, to dig up any evidence while he wrapped up the day's cases. But she hadn't returned yet. Now, halfway across the parking lot, he notices May's car parked exactly where she'd left it that morning. Maybe she's in the law library. He glances back at the imposing stone building towering above him. The small, secluded room inside is a frequent refuge for attorneys on tight deadlines.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Jake dials her number. Her chirpy voicemail echoes across the line: "You know what to do." He sighs, shoving the phone back into his pocket. I should've expected that. May always shuts off her phone while working—less distraction, she claims. I'll grab my laptop and join her.

Reaching for the car door, Jake freezes. His breath catches as his gaze falls on May's body lying crosswise on the front seat. There's a bloody hole in the center of her chest.

"No!" he screams, recoiling in horror.

***

Rachel steps into the station just as her three detectives sprint past her. "What's going on, guys?" she calls out.

Winded, Jerry turns and replies, "Assistant ADA May Winters was found dead in the courthouse parking lot."

"Let's move," Rachel orders.

The sergeant and her detectives arrive at the scene to find an ambulance already parked, lights flashing. The medical examiner is standing over the body. Rachel turns to her team. "Find any witnesses and pull the security footage from the parking lot."

A security officer clears his throat, drawing Rachel's attention. He gestures toward a distraught man standing near the courthouse doors. "Jake King's the one who found her. She was lying sideways in his car. I heard him screaming, went out to see what was happening, and then called 911."

Rachel nods. "I'll need that security footage immediately."

"On it, Sergeant," the officer says, hurrying away.

Rachel strides over to Jake, pulling out her notebook. "Do you know the victim?" she asks.

Nodding, Jake replies, "She's my partner. My second chair."

"When was the last time you saw Ms. Winters?" Rachel presses.

"She left right after the judge granted us a continuance."

Rachel's eyes narrow. "Exactly how long ago was that?"

Jake glances at his watch. "A couple of hours, I'd say. I sent her out to research the new witnesses the defense team sprung on us today."

"And where were you while she was gone?"

"I finished up our cases and spoke briefly to two of my clients before heading here."

Rachel turns as she hears footsteps approaching. A forensic tech, Bill, gestures for her attention. "Sergeant, you'll want to see this."

"I'll be right back," Rachel says, snapping her notebook shut.

She follows Bill to a grassy area at the edge of the lot. He holds up a revolver inside a see-through evidence bag. "It's a .38—the same type that killed Ms. Winters. From the acidic smell, I'd say it was fired recently, within the last hour or so." He glances toward Jake, still standing near the courthouse doors, and adds, "I ran the serial number. The gun's registered to him. He bought it from the gun shop on Main right before the murders began. I'll check to see if the bullets match once it's in the lab."

Rachel marches back over to Jake, tilting her head. "Tell me about your .38."

Jake looks shaken. "I bought it for protection after my coworkers were murdered."

"When did you last see it?"

"This morning. I locked it in the glove box safe." His face drains of color. "Oh God, no. Please don't tell me my gun was used to kill May."

Rachel's expression hardens. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back."

"What?" Jake stammers.

"You're under arrest for the murder of May Winters."

"I didn't kill her! I didn't!" Jake protests, his voice rising in panic.

Rachel signals to a rookie officer. "Take him to the station."

Rachel approaches her two detectives. "Kirk, talk to his clients. Find out if they spoke to him after court. Jeff, check on that security footage and bring it to me as soon as possible."

I told you both you'd be sorry," Nadia thinks, watching the scene unfold from afar.

It's late October 2023. Nadia, a rookie on the force, comes home after a long day. She'd been assigned trash duty as punishment for showing up late to work. Stepping into her small one-bedroom apartment, she freezes. Jake and her best friend May are sprawled naked on her couch.

"You traitors!" she screams, reaching for her gun.

The floor creaks behind her, and she hears her partner's voice. "Don't do it, Nadia."

"The bastard is screwing my best friend!" she growls.

Bruce steps between her and the couch, grabbing her shoulders. His gaze locks onto hers. "Look at them, Nadia. Just look at them." He glances at the pair, now huddled together in fear. "Are either of them worth losing everything you've worked so hard for?"

"They both need to pay," she snarls.

"I agree," Bruce says, his voice steady. "But if you shoot them, you'll spend the rest of your life behind bars."

Shrugging off his grip, Nadia's eyes burn with conviction. "No judge will convict me if I claim self-defense."

Bruce shakes his head. "How are you going to prove it, Nadia? Beat yourself up? Wreck the apartment? And what about me? How do I explain my part in all this?"

"I'll figure it out," she snaps.

"No, Nadia. Don't. Please—for all our sakes." He places a hand on her stomach. She'd told him earlier that morning she was pregnant, too scared to tell Jake because of his adamant stance against having kids.

"I can't let him get away with this," she says, stepping to Bruce's side. She raises her gun and fires. The bullet lodges deep into the couch, mere inches from where Jake and May are cowering.

Screams echo through the room as the pair huddles tighter in the corner. "Please don't do this, Nadia. Please. I'm sorry. I'll never do it again," May pleads.

"You're right—you won't," Nadia says, cocking the weapon and aiming between Jake's legs.

"Please, Nadia. Please don't," Jake begs, covering himself as best he can.

Bruce's warning replays in her mind. Her jaw tightens, her eyes blazing with fury. "Get out of my house before I change my mind," she growls.

A squelching siren brings her back to the present. "You'll rot in prison, and she'll rot in hell," Nadia laughs, pulling away. 

***

Rachel observes their suspect through the two-way mirror, her arms crossed. The sound of approaching footsteps draws her attention, and she looks up to see Jeff heading her way.

"Ballistics confirm the bullet that killed May came from his gun," Jeff reports. "The only fingerprints on the gun and bullets are his. And we found the jacket he was wearing earlier—bloody—in the trunk of his car. Forensics is testing it now."

"Do the bullets match the other victims?" Rachel asks.

Jeff shakes his head. "No."

Rachel narrows her eyes, her thoughts racing. "I don't like how this case is playing out. The victim was found in his car, killed with his gun, and now his bloody jacket is in the trunk? It's all too neat."

"It's like he's being framed," Jeff says cautiously.

"Exactly. I want you to get Sharon down here to test his hands and clothes for gunshot residue," Rachel orders. "And make sure forensics reviews the security tapes."

"Yes, Sergeant."

Before Jeff can leave, Kirk's voice rings out as he sprints down the hall. "Sergeant! Forensics just found a blonde hair on his jacket—they think it's from a wig. And there's a second DNA profile on the jacket!"

Rachel straightens, a spark of realization flickering in her eyes. "Now that changes things."