But I’m even more glad because Harriet Frederick has been all over the news, and I know she consulted a few times with Charles from stateside when Damien’s trial went forward in Germany with local defense counsel. I knew that Charles was bringing someone else on board for Jackson’s case—while he was more than capable of bailing Jackson out after the assault, his specialty is corporate law, not criminal. But I hadn’t anticipated we’d get Harriet, and seeing her here is more than a relief—it’s like getting a shot of undiluted hope.
She moves confidently across the room to shake Jackson’s hand. “Mr. Stark’s right. Being nervous is par for the course, but if you listen to me—if you’re honest with me—we’ll have a better chance of keeping you a free man.”
I lick my lips, hating what she’s not saying, but what I already know. That there are no guarantees. And even though she’s one of the most famous and well-regarded criminal defense attorneys out there, even Harriet Frederick cannot guarantee that I won’t lose the man I love to prison.
“We’ll apply for a change of venue, but we won’t get it. And that means the jury is coming from this community, and this is a community that loves movies and celebrities—and that includes Reed. So that means I want you on your best behavior, Mr. Steele.”
“I understand.”
She looks him up and down as if taking his measure, then she nods in what I hope is approval. “Well, I guess we’ll see.” She gestures to the table. “Why don’t we all sit down and get started?” We all sit, but she remains standing. “It’s unfortunate that we weren’t able to get ahead of the reveal about your relationship with your brother, but it’s relevant only to the extent that your overall persona is relevant. Unfortunately, in a high profile murder trial, your persona will be very relevant.”
Jackson is frowning, and I try to catch his eye. I want to know what he’s thinking, but he’s focused on Harriet, and I’m left to wonder.
“Damien and Evelyn were putting together a plan to get ahead of this revelation. Now we’ll rework that to get on top of it.”
Evelyn nods. “I’ll have something ready by tonight. I imagine the vultures will be circling Stark Tower tomorrow, not to mention the Beverly Hills PD.”
“We’ll take Jackson in and out through the back,” Harriet says. “No face time with the press tomorrow. And while much of this case will be tried in the media, our primary focus still has to be the evidence and what it’s going to look like to a jury.”
She crosses her arms as she studies Jackson, looking much like a stylist in a high-end clothing store. “You’re not testifying. You’re not answering their questions tomorrow. You go, I answer for you. You’re relying on the Fifth Amendment, Jackson.”
“Won’t that make him look guilty?” I ask.
She turns to me with a small shake of her head. “Better than him admitting he was in Reed’s house. Or, worse, not mentioning that he was there, and getting sideswiped when the forensics team finds evidence. Stay quiet, the police may never know. They’ll have a hard time proving Jackson killed Reed if they can’t prove he was at the crime scene.”
I nod. I understand all that—and I even get that pleading the Fifth doesn’t automatically mean a defendant’s guilty—but I can’t deny that the thought of it scares me, because I know that’s what the media will think. And the speculation will be everywhere.
“Sylvia.” Harriet’s voice is gentle, and I realize that I’ve been staring at the tabletop. I look up at her. “As far as the press is concerned, he already looks guilty. Taking the Fifth won’t change that. But how he interacts with the public can, which is why he’ll be personable and likable. And,” she added with a quick glance toward Jackson, “he won’t lose his temper.”
“Damn right, he won’t,” Evelyn says. Evelyn Dodge is a Hollywood establishment and knows her way around PR better than anyone. I’m thrilled she’s on Jackson’s side. I’m even more thrilled that she’s a friend.
She indicates Charles and Harriet. “We’ve been strategizing for the last few hours, and it comes down to you being gracious and charming.” She lifts an eyebrow. “Assuming you can handle that.”
Jackson almost smiles. “I’ll do my best.”
“Don’t approach the press, wave them off if they get in your personal space—that’s fair. But when you comment, you’re charming. You’re accessible. You’re likable.”
