Asher sunk down into his high-backed chair and put his feet up on the desk. He rested his chin in one hand and with the other motioned to one of the chairs opposite.

“Sit,” he commanded.

I bristled at his tone. I wasn’t used to being ordered about. But, at the same time, it didn’t feel like this was the hill to make my stand on, so I pulled out the chair and sat. I locked eyes with him across the desk, trying to read him, to see what he was feeling or thinking behind his cold and stern demeanor. But there was nothing there. His face was a mask, giving away nothing.

He sat, staring at me, for a long while. He must have been trying to rattle me, to make me feel uncomfortable enough to start talking. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. I didn’t know why he was playing at this, whether he was testing me or engaging in some kind of power play, but I had been top of my class in the negotiation seminar and I wasn’t going to be unsettled by a little silence. We sat quietly for what felt like an hour, but in reality, was just over a minute. Finally, Asher spoke.

“Art Crane. You know him?”

“The director? Sure.”

“Are you familiar with his murder?”

“Just what I read online. They just arrested his assistant, right?”

“Amber Warner. We have just been retained as her defense counsel.”

I felt a little thrill run up my spine. I had never wanted to be a defense attorney and I never wanted any of the limelight that seemed to draw many lawyers to that practice area, but the idea of working on a case that was going to be all over the news was exciting. And scary. I knew when I took this internship that there would be a chance that I would be working on a serious case, but I never expected that I would be thrown into a murder case on my first day.

“Did she do it?” The question popped out of my mouth before I had time to think. I knew it shouldn’t have mattered to me, as a defense attorney you had to defend your client, regardless. But I wanted to know. Whether born of morbid curiosity or a desire to modulate my sense of moral obligation to this young woman, I wanted to know if I was going to help defend an innocent person or a guilty one.

Asher looked at me quizzically.

“She did.”

“How do you know?”

“She wouldn’t have hired me if she didn’t.”

I didn’t understand what he meant and it must have showed on my face because he elaborated. But not before giving an exaggerated sigh, as if he was annoyed at having to explain something that should be obvious.

“A young, attractive white woman is accused of murder. If she was innocent, there would be no need to hire the best defense attorney in the city. If you can’t get a not guilty verdict for a hot white woman who is actually innocent, then they should take your license. No, if she was innocent, she wouldn’t need me. The only reason to hire me is if she did it. Because I am the only one who could get her off.”

If it hadn’t been for what Kyle had said the other night, I might have taken his statement for boastfulness. But I had done some research on Asher over the weekend and it appeared that he wasn’t exaggerating, or at least not by much. He had been very successful on a number of high profile cases in the past couple of years. I wasn’t so much perturbed by his ego, that came with the job for most lawyers. What bothered me was his utter assurance that his, our, client was guilty. I had gone to law school to help people, but helping a murderer go free wasn’t what I had in mind.

I wanted to ask him more questions, to delve into how he justified defending the guilty to himself. Many defense attorneys ignored the question, focusing exclusively on the process and not worrying about the bigger picture. But Asher seemed quite clear on the client’s guilt and he didn’t seem to care. But I didn’t have time to say anything else. He reached under his desk and pressed a button, and in an instant, the door behind me opened and Rebecca sauntered in.

Asher glanced at her briefly before returning his attention to me.

“There are a number of things in our client’s past that I would prefer stay in the past. I’ll need you to prepare a motion in limine to exclude character evidence and prior bad acts. Rebecca?” He motioned to the buxom paralegal. She handed me a slim Surface tablet. “That is set up for you to access the necessary parts of our database. You will have a folder with some information about Ms. Warner as well as some sample motions. Now, I need you to write the motion and the points and authorities memorandum.”

Great. My first assignment is an evidence issue. Just my luck.

“Isn’t it premature to write the motion if they haven’t proffered any evidence?” I asked, trying to sound like I knew more than I did.

“No. I know what they are going to want to bring in, so the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can move on to…other things. Have it done before you go home.”

And with that, I disappeared. At least that is what it felt like. He had dismissed me completely and was now absorbed in his computer screen. I felt a tap on my shoulder. Rebecca. I followed her out of the room and into a small cubicle nearby.

“Here is where you will be working,” she said in a musical, lilting voice. “Don’t worry, I put some good examples on there. Just read up on the cases cited in the examples and you’ll figure it out.” She gave me a warm smile and returned to her desk.