I know this is short, but bear with me, more coming in the near future! Read and review please!
At the Courthouse
"Will the defendant please rise," Judge Preston said. "Has the jury reached their verdict?"
"Yes Your Honor, we have," whatever-his-name-was-juror-number-one said.
"On the first count of the indictment, fraud in the first degree, how do you find?"
"Guilty."
"On the second, third and fourth counts of the indictment, identity theft of John Webber, Alicia Rodriguiz and Maria Fisher, how do you find?"
"Guilty"
"And on the final count of the indictment, embezzlement of $100,000, how do you find?"
"Guilty"
"Than you for your time, you are excused." She banged her gavel and that was that. "I will see you at sentencing Mr. Zeebo."Casey let out the breath she was holding and winged a thank-you prayer to God, but then again, she was the prosecutor, not Him..., but it was still up to the jury, so she said thank-you one more time and started to pack up. Behind her she heard the dectectives she had worked with on the case start making plans for going to O'Mallery's.
One would think that after a month and a half of working together to put William Zeebo, Park Avenue socialite, behind bars for ripping of people's tax dollars for years they'd be a little closer, but no. In fact, as she was walking out of the courtroom she heard one of them whisper "Jeez, you know, she's a total bitch, but she's a damn good prosecutor." Casey considered this, was she a bitch? Maybe. She made sure she got what she needed for her case anyway. Was she a damn good prosecutor? Definitely. But the comment still bothered her a little...
Outside the Courthouse
"Hey Alexis, heard you won on all counts today." Casey said casually to one of her semi-friends-when-she-wasn't-pissing-them-off, "Wanna come grab a drink with me?"
"Ooh, sorry Casey, I'm going with the boys to O'Mallery's, wanna come?"
"Uhhh, no thanks, that's okay, another day, 'kay?" Casey hated O'Mallery's, not only was it a cop bar, where she had undoubtedly pissed someone off in there, which then got her dirty looks. But she also got looks because she wasn't with a bunch of cop buddies, or buddies period. She sighed and headed towards the bar that was closest to her home.
At the Bar
Several beers later she stared into her now half empty glass, sad and alone. Just another girl, alone at the bar. That was from some song she was too tired to remember, she had probably heard it on the radio or something. But it was so true, so completely true. How many nights had she sat at the bar, alone, staring into her glass? More than she cared to remember. When she was still living in that hell hole with her father she would buy some beer and just drink it at home. As she stared into the glass memories began to surface,like apples bobbing in one of those tubs. She finished the rest of her drink in one gulp, but they just kept surfacing...