The Case

Chapter 2

Connie Rubirosa was caught in the normal LA morning traffic gridlock.

Getting to work wasn't like in New York City, where she could hire a taxi. Here, she had to maneuver her own vehicle through all the traffic congestion, as rows and rows of cars continued to move at a snail's pace.

Welcome to the rush hour.

Usually Connie was not an impatient driver, but she had an early morning meeting with Jerry Hardin, LA's District Attorney. Earlier that morning he had called her at the home she shared with her mother, regarding a case that had landed on his desk.

Over the phone, DA Hardin had summarized the case in one sentence: a stripper accused two wealthy young men of raping her at one of their exclusive beach-house wine parties.

Connie figured this was going to be one tough case to prosecute, being the victim worked as a stripper, rendering her unsympathetic to the jury.

"Jerry, you do realize that I'm already working on two of Joe's cases, don't you?" Connie had asked, as she balanced a bagel in her hand and held the phone against her shoulder, "And now you're adding to my caseload?"

"This is different, "DA Hardin explained, "this victim, the stripper, specifically asked for you. So you'll be going in as first chair…but don't get too excited since I haven't decided if we should push forward for a trial yet ...We'll discuss the details the minute you get here, alright?"

Back to the present, the thought of being first chair on a trial brought a smile to Connie's lips despite having to sit through the stop and go traffic.

She tried not to get her hopes up.

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The unpredictable traffic delay caused her to arrive slightly late at DA Hardin's office. Pausing at the doorway, she noted Jerry Hardin seated at his desk, as well as someone whom she assumed was the opposing counsel.

The other man, who was short and balding, looked perturbed at having to be kept waiting.

"Dammit! It's about time!" bellowed Stanford Bennett, the defense lawyer, when Connie walked in, "Hardin, you need to run a tighter ship with your employees!"

Connie started to open her mouth in response, but Hardin had already interceded.

"Relax, Stan…" Hardin said to Bennett, "it's LA! Out here, we're laidback about everything! But, before we proceed, let me be the first to go on record to say that... Stan, I've noticed something very different about you..."

Stanford Bennett looked confused as Jerry Hardin gave Bennett the once over. Then Hardin snapped his fingers knowingly as he pointed at Bennett's protruding belly.

"I've got it! ... You've lost weight, haven't you?" DA Hardin couldn't resist the jab.

"Don't start that crap with me, Jer!" Stanford Bennett blustered as Hardin grinned.

"Fine by me, Stan…instead, let me make introductions…this is DDA Rubirosa...and Connie, this here is ambulance chaser, Stanford Bennett."

Connie nodded before she sat down, but Bennett seemed to brush her presence away with a wave of his hand.

"An unproven female Deputy District Attorney? Shouldn't she be busy typing up a report or something?" asked Bennett.

"Low blow even for you, Stan," Hardin snapped, "Just get to the point of why you called this meeting…"

"Isn't it obvious? "asked Bennett, "You're not actually going ahead with a trial for that stripper- slash- prostitute, are you? You don't seem to have a lot of confidence if you're planning on putting a junior prosecutor on the case!"

Connie did not care for Stanford Bennett's pompous attitude.

"Unwarranted name-calling won't intimidate me, Mr. Bennett!" Connie spoke out,"Despite your rudeness, I plan to push forward for a trial; our client needs justice for the heinous act perpetrated by your two defendants!"

"Please Jerry," Bennett had turned away from Connie, "Can you and I discuss this alone together?

"I told you, Stan," Hardin said, "she was asked specifically by the victim."

Connie could not fathom how this Paige Smith even knew about her.

"Come on, Jer!" pointed out Stan, "You know you can't win with a stripper as a client! It's her sleazy word against my two law abiding young defendants! Is all of this grandstanding necessary?"

Hardin seemed to be weighing the options.

"Alright, I'm reasonable...let's talk, Stan," Hardin sounded as though he was caving in, to the surprise of Connie, "before we waste any more time this morning...and this is hypothetical, mind you...what would it take for this to all go away?"

Bennett smiled smugly.

"Now you're being smart, Jer! For starters," Bennett pushed his agenda, "I want Miss Paige Smith to publicly apologize for destroying the reputation of two fine, upstanding young men…and then we'll settle for an immediate dropping of all the charges."

Connie couldn't help it. She gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

"That is ridic—" began Connie.

"...After all," Bennett added, "you know that lowlife trashy stripper was asking for it!"

That's it, Connie thought. Bennett better be ready to deal with her!

"In the first place, Mr. Bennett," began Connie, her voice slightly shaking from frustration, " kindly address all comments regarding this case to me, since I am her counsel! And in the second place, whatever her profession might be, you can rest assure that when we get to court, I will make sure she will not be bullied by some loud mouthed defense lawyer!"

For the first time that morning, her boss, Jerry Hardin smiled, "You heard her, Stan!"

But Stanford almost sneered at her, "Sweetheart, there are some factors you don't know about the case."

Connie folded her arms stubbornly.

"Alright, Mr. Bennett, suppose you enlighten me, then, since you seem to know everything."

He gave her a smarmy smile.

"By all means…In the first place, in your alleged victim's statement…and Jerry can back me up on this one… Miss Smith clearly stated her rapists were named Jesse and Phoenix."

Connie shrugged, uncomfortably, knowing she wasn't going to like where this was going, "And?"

Bennett leaned forward, "My clients names are Patrick Martin and Edward North. They have no nicknames, no aliases, no connections to Jesse and Phoenix. So what do you have to say about that?"

"I would have to confer with my client before I could comment," insisted Connie, holding her head up high.

She hated the sef-assured look he shot back at her.

"Why wait? I have my papers containing Miss Smith's exact words right here, " Bennett started rummaging through his briefcase, "Let me find it for you...hold on... it's here somewhere...Hmmm…Ahhh! Here it is!"

He brought out a file, opened it and purposely cleared his throat, "The two boys who did this. Their names were Jesse and Phoenix."

He lowered the folder and looked up as if expecting applause.

Connie bit her lower lip while Bennett turned back to speak to DA Hardin.

"Listen, Jerry, we have a history, you and I...and we've always been honest with one another. I'm here to tell you you're fighting a losing case, " Bennett stated.

"Talk to the hand, Stan," said DA Hardin, at last defending Connie, "You've heard what Miss Rubirosa said. This is her case. My involvement is minimal, at best."

Stanford Bennett turned to Connie.

"Then let me do you a favor, sweetheart," he stated arrogantly, "and tell you part of my court strategy on this case. I plan to show that your little white trash client is going after my boys because they have money. You know how juries hate money-grubbing bimbos."

Connie wanted so much to knock the chip on the idiot defense lawyer's shoulder.

"So to summarize," Bennett concluded, "if you stupidly decide to bring this case forward, I will annihilate your client's sullied name, your own professional reputation and the prestige of your boss's office in one fell swoop. This will not end pretty for the two of you."

"We'll just see about that!" said Connie, not backing off.

Bennett tsked-tsked to Connie, "You'll soon see that Jerry was wrong to involve you in this case."

"My boss was only wrong about one thing," Connie said evenly.

Bennett's interest was piqued.

"And what's that, Sweetheart?"

"I don't think, Mr. Bennett, that you've lost any weight."

Bennett looked indignantly as Hardin, who again, had to work at hiding a smile. Connie stood up, signaling the end of the meeting, as both men also stood.

Bennett made a deal of straightening his jacket.

"I am quite done here, "announced Bennett, acting as if he made the decision to end the meeting, " and Miss Rubi –whatever your name- I look forward to a face off with you in court. However, if your boss is smart, he'll agree not to file charges."

"I think it is too early for me to be discussing my case with you," stated Connie coolly, "Good-bye, Mr. Bennett, and I'll see you in court."

He left, leaving DA Hardin alone with Connie in his office.

"I'm glad you stood your ground against that old windbag, " DA Hardin stated to Connie afterwards.

"I think he'll end up burying himself with his own egotistical foolishness," predicted Connie, who looked ready to do battle, "So, Jerry, I'll take the file now and begin filing the motion immediately."

Hardin's reaction was not what she had expected.

"Actually, Connie," he stated solemnly, "After taking in everything that was said at this meeting, I don't think it would be in the best interest of this office if we proceed with the case. Sorry."

"You can't do that!" Connie insisted.

"I can if the case is not winnable," DA Hardin ruled.

Connie had not expected that the case would be pulled out from under her before she even got her hands on the file. She looked crossly at her boss while at the same time, wishing there was someone she could talk to regarding this frustrating situation.

She used to have someone she could talk to, she thought ruefully, but he lived on the other side of the country now.

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It was still morning when Mike walked towards his office in New York City. He had a cup of joe in his hand, ready to face whatever the world would throw at him.

Or so he thought.

From the entrance of his doorway, he spotted detective Olivia Benson in his office, leaning against his desk, impatiently waiting for his arrival.

Mike frowned.

Not because it was Benson, but because there was only one person who should be leaning or sitting on his desk.

He recalled the way Connie used to possessively occupy his desk that way, occasionally holding one of his baseballs in her hand. When Connie did it back when, he welcomed it. The gesture had always seemed so natural and somehow intimately familiar.

And he certainly didn't feel that way about Benson.

"Detective…" he greeted coolly, as he placed his coffee and briefcase on his desk, "No need to lean on my desk like that…please, take a seat... "

Olivia watched him warily. His irritable tone seemed to indicate that he was not happy about something this morning.

She took a seat, "did we somehow get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, Mike?"

"Not at all, " Mike recovered as he glanced at his schedule for today, "It's just that it will be a very busy morning for me."

"I'm not exactly here to play checkers, Mike," Olivia rebounded, wondering what his problem was, "The reason why I'm here is that, I wanted to talk about…"

Mike's BlackBerry suddenly buzzed.

At first Mike ignored it as he gave his attention fully to the detective.

It continued to buzz.

Olivia let out a frustrated groan.

"You going to get that, Mike? Because it's irritating the hell out of me."

Mike lifted his index finger in a "wait" gesture.

"Sorry," he apologized, "I'm expecting a call from Casey regarding an appointed court date."

He picked up his BlackBerry and his eyes went wide at the lit ID screen.

It stated that the call originated from Los Angeles.

Los Angeles.

Connie, he thought immediately.

Everything seemed to fade in the background as Mike's heart gave an extra big thump.

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