Keller County Cops Book Seven: Code of Vengeance by Melanie Atkins Read Free Book Online Page B

always started with a number two pencil and then filled in with color. As always with distinctive people, she was tempted to make his image more of a caricature than a true documentation of his appearance, but she refrained and soon had the judge's likeness on paper to her satisfaction.
    Next up was the prosecutor with his opening argument. Abington was a tall, buff man with a classic Roman nose and a deep, mesmerizing voice. Today, like always, he wore an expensive, well-cut suit that clung to his muscular frame and a pair of dark-rimmed glasses that gave him a stylish, intellectual air. Keegan had spoken to him a time or two, and found him to be arrogant, yet clever. If anybody could finagle a guilty verdict for Wicker, she had no doubt he could. She was glad he was prosecuting this case. Drawing him was a pleasure, because he was all long lines and broad shoulders. The ring on his finger told her he was off limits, and she wished she could congratulate the woman who'd captured his heart. He might be an egotistical ass, but he definitely provided Keegan with some nice eye candy.
    Fred Quincy, on the other hand, reminded her of a predatory hawk. He was tall and thin, with a long beak nose, and he generally wore his suits at least a size too big. She half expected him to flap his arms and take flight every time he got flustered, a common occurrence whenever he battled prosecutors in front of Judge Rouse. She expected that to happen more than once during this trial. Rouse looked down on Wicker and the others at the defense table as if he'd just scraped them off his shoe. Talk about drama...
    When Quincy got up to give his opening statement, Keegan had to suppress a snicker. The difference between his raw, high-pitched whine and Abington's bedroom drawl couldn't be more pronounced. Score one for the prosecution.
    Quincy dragged out his argument, over-dramatizing the fights between husband and wife and doing his best to paint Rosemary Wicker as the abuser. Yeah, right. The woman had barely weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet at the time of her death, while her husband was a brute who'd played football for a big-name college until he'd torn up his knee during his junior year.
    Wicker's obnoxious sneer made Keegan want to vomit. The jurors, however, ignored him and kept their gazes riveted on Quincy, who came off as sympathetic in spite of his irritating whine. If he kept that up, he just might sway their votes Wicker's way.
    The attorney finally completed his statement and sat back down. Rouse, who'd looked bored during the man's harangue, turned to the prosecutor.
    "Mr. Abington, are you ready to call your first witness?"
    "Yes, Your Honor," Abington said in that deep, sexy voice. "I'd like to call Deputy Vernon Jones to the stand. He was the first officer to reach the Wicker resident after Rosemary Wicker's frantic nine-one-one call the day of her murder."
    Keegan sketched Jones while Abington grilled him about that night, wincing as the deputy described the blood spatter and Rosemary's broken body. For good measure, she also added another image with Quincy in the foreground during the defense attorney's cross-examination. Jones was young, probably a brand new deputy, but he stood firm on his testimony despite Quincy's attempts to trip him up. She had to smile at that.
    Once Quincy was done and Abington declined to cross-examine him, the judge ordered the deputy to step down. He then pinned Abington with a knowing gaze.
    "Call your next witness, Counselor."
    "Yes, Your Honor." Abington turned to face the spectators and called another first responder, an EMT who had attempted to revive Rosemary Wicker, to the witness stand. Other first responders followed, including another EMT and two more deputies.
    Finally, once the last deputy stepped down, the prosecutor changed course. "I'd like to call Detective Mitch Ransom to the stand."
    Everyone turned to look at the strapping detective who rose from the back row and marched forward