“I’m not trying to be difficult, Mrs. Pierce. I’m merely letting you know that there could be green innards all over the floor in here if I don’t get out of this gravity.”
“It won’t be the first time, I’m sure, Mr. Smith. Now, go have a seat and I’ll let you know as soon as immigration gets here.”
I turned and headed for the defense table to get the file for my next case. Braden was there shuffling through some papers. Even after a year of married life, the sight of him still made my pulse race. He was big and blonde, like a Norse God, and he could do things to my body that sent me to another planet. Braden took sexy to illegal heights.
Back in the day, the two of us had been known to engage in some very interesting negotiations in various locations here at the criminal courts building. Ironically, though, now that we worked together, we hardly ever appeared in court at the same time. I had almost forgotten how seeing him so cool, confident and in control could melt my panties and make me want to be a bad girl.
He looked up and I saw his eyes darken. He gave me his hot Braden sex look, and I was tempted to throw myself down on the defense table in front of him and plead for mercy. The fact that we could turn each other on with just a look, while standing in the middle of Philly Night Court, was a testament to the volcanic level of sexual chemistry we had.
“Hey, Mr. Pierce,” I said in what I fancied to be my sultry voice.
“Mrs. Pierce, have you come to make a motion?” He gave me a cocky smile.
“I don’t know that we would have a chance to fully reach a resolution. The pace here is pretty frantic.” One thing I didn’t need was the pressure of trying to reach the Promised Land before Judge Epstein started bellowing somewhere nearby.
“She has to take a recess eventually. Nobody can sustain that much wrath for too long without a break. I’ve already spoken to my two clients, so I’m free and ready to engage in some private negotiations anytime you are.”
“I’ve spoken to both of mine too. If she calls a recess of at least half an hour, you’re on. In the meanwhile, while we have a moment, let’s compare notes.”
“Okay, for round one, I have this Mr. Marley, charged with trespass and prowling at night,” he said picking up a file and furrowing his brows. “He’s odd.”
“No, really? Imagine that,” I commented, dryly.
“I mean odd even for Philly criminal court,” he clarified.
“How so?” I leaned against the table and looked up at my handsome husband. There were still moments that I couldn’t believe that a clumsy, socially awkward woman like me, had charmed a gorgeous, sexy, guy like him. Braden loved me, though, quirks and all. In fact, I suspected that he loved me because of them.
“It’s weird, I can’t put my finger on it exactly, something about the way he talks, and the way he’s dressed.”
“He’s wearing a suit,” I noted, looking up at the gallery, where people sat waiting for cases to be heard. Mr. Marley was staring at a wall as if he were watching it do something. Okay, I could see Braden’s point.
“Yeah, but it’s the cut of it …”
“The cut of it? What are you, his tailor?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged, looking sheepish. “It’s probably my imagination.”
“Oh wait, he’s the guy whose file said that he died in 1905. So, there you go. He’s odd because he’s been dead for over a century.”
“Yeah, right.” Braden rolled his eyes. “They still haven’t gotten that straightened out by the way. His case is all messed up. It’s listed on the docket for October 31st, but the year of his trial is also listed as 1905. There must have been some glitch in Records.”
“Either that or he’s a ghost.”
“Well then, I should introduce him to them.” Braden gestured at a team of guys in black t-shirts and ball caps who were laying wire and setting up some kind of equipment.
“Who are they? They don’t look like the Maintenance Department. For one thing, they’re not sitting in the lobby eating doughnuts.”
“Don’t you recognize the Spirit Hunters Team from television? They’re here to try to capture paranormal activity.”
“Well, they’re in the right place. Nothing here is normal.”
“How’s your close encounter of the annoying kind going?”
“Mr. Smith has an urgent need to return to the Mother Ship as soon as possible. He has warned me that Earth’s gravitational pull might result in him imploding into a puddle of green slime.”
“That would suck.”
“Yeah, especially since nothing involving Night Court is urgent to the Feds. It’s going to be a green bloodbath.” I nodded. “How about your other case?”
“Delores Crowley? She’s a strange woman who does creepy things.”
“Have small children mysteriously gone missing in her yard?”
“Nah, she’s charged with Disorderly Conduct, and Terroristic Threats.” He glanced at the file he was holding. “Oh, and, uh, littering.”
“Glad they tacked that on there. God forbid, a disorderly litterbug walk free. What’s her story?”
“She’s an exorcist.”
“Who did she threaten, Satan? And more importantly, will he be testifying?” You needed to have a sense of humor in this business. And alcohol. It was also important to have alcohol.
“Testifying for the Commonwealth will be Mr. Evan Drake. You’re going to love Ev. Trust me. He’s such a winner.” Braden smiled.
“Even better. Speaking of people who you would never want to bring home to meet mom, my other client is Mr. Bates. There’s something really creepy about him.”
“How so?’
“He has a weird way of staring at you, and he’s so pale and still.”
“What’s he charged with?”
“Abuse of a corpse. He’s an undertaker’s assistant.”
“That last one might be the biggest reason he’s creepy. Just sayin’. ”
“Yeah. I should introduce him to Mr. Marley. He likes dead people.”
Just then Judge Epstein summoned Braden, so I decided that I would chat with the Crypt Keeper some more. He was sitting in the only shadow in the entire courtroom. It figured. I grabbed his file and headed in his direction.
He was a tall, thin, pale guy with beady eyes and a hawk-like nose. He looked like the love child of Monty Burns from The Simpsons, and Riff Raff from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. What a cutie.
“Mrs. Pierce.” He had the bubbly voice of a spokesmodel. Okay, not really, he sounded like he looked, which was like the Grim Reaper.
“Mr. Bates, we’re just waiting for your case to be called. The docket is very full this evening,” I explained in case that fact had eluded him.
“It’s the full moon,” he replied, eyes widening. A wolf cry echoed from somewhere in the distance, or it might have been Judge Epstein.
“You know, I think that’s true,” I agreed. “It seems like the full moon really does bring out all the crazies. Oh! Uh, no offense.”
“None taken.”
“So let’s go over the facts of the case once again. This was just a mistake …” I had never heard that one before.
“I had moved the object in question …”
“That would be Mr. Peterman?” I interrupted.
“It would be the mortal remains of Mr. Peterman. It’s kind of a funny story.”
“Hey, with a dead body involved, how could it not be?”
“I’m assigned to the night shift at the funeral parlor.”
“And Mr. Peterman gave you a ride to work?” I joked. He didn’t look amused. I had a feeling that he blended in well with the other corpses. Who knew that funeral parlors even had a night shift?
“Philadelphia is a scary place at night.” He had to be kidding.
“Were you planning to use Mr. Peterman as the Neighborhood Watch? Wouldn’t someone less dead have been a better choice?”