CUTTING ROOM -THE- by Jilliane Hoffman

going down. ‘Well, if you’d been a minute later, he probably would have,’ she replied coolly.
    â€˜Uh-oh. You’re mad,’ Manny replied, following her.
    â€˜You’re quick.’
    â€˜I wasn’t late. I was here the whole time,’ he said, taking the fat file from her arms. ‘Let me get that for you. It’s heavy and you look so tired. And cranky.’
    â€˜Hey there, Manny!’ a defense attorney called from behind them. ‘You going to the game tonight?’
    â€˜Not tonight. I got tickets for Saturday.’
    â€˜See ya there!’ the lawyer replied before disappearing into a courtroom.
    He turned his attention back to her. ‘Like I said, you look drained. Give me that.’
    The man knew everyone and everyone knew him. She handed her file over without a fight. ‘Bullshit. I texted you a dozen times — no Manny.’
    â€˜There’s your problem. I never text. Hate that thing. The world is going to shit, Counselor; no one talks to nobody no more. Everyone just sends cryptic messages. Can’t even bother to spell out the fucking words — pardon the English. I’m old school — call me if you need me. That’s not so hard.’
    â€˜I can’t call you when court’s in session.’
    â€˜You’re not supposed to text, either.’
    â€˜You were so not out in the hall.’
    â€˜I was, too. Dixon came and got me.’
    â€˜You were drinking coffee downstairs in the cafeteria; I can still smell the espresso on your breath. Don’t lie.’
    Manny smiled again. ‘You’re good. Let me clarify: I was in the
building
the whole time. My buddy told me we were on page twenty-two. I’ve been before Slow Steyn enough damn times to know that means I had at least an hour. That guy is never on time.’
    â€˜Your source is unreliable. We got moved up.’
    â€˜And I was still there on time. No harm, no foul.’
    Daria shook her head. ‘Next time I’m gonna lie to you. Have you here two hours before kick-off. That’ll teach you.’
    â€˜I’ve been doing this for a long while, Counselor; I know every trick in the book. And I always make it. Always. Ask anybody.’
    She sighed. ‘I can’t live like that.’
    He laughed. ‘I like how you shot down the Palm Beachers. Now that was fun to watch. You got a set of
cojones
on you, Little Lady. That’s a good thing to have in this building.’
    She really wanted to stay mad at him, but unfortunately it wasn’t sticking. ‘Thank you,’ she replied. ‘I’m ignoring the short comment for now, though I want you to know I don’t like jokes about my height. The hearing went pretty smooth, considering. But don’t count out Yin and Yang just yet. They get paid a lot of money for a reason. Today was a fishing expedition, and they netted more than a few fish and a real good understanding of where we are with our case. Or, more telling, where we are not. I don’t imagine they’ll be making deals anytime soon. Which brings me to my biggest concern: Kuzak’s going to the grand jury on this tomorrow. You know that, right?’ Guy Kuzak was a seasoned prosecutor and the only ASA who presented cases to the grand jury.
    â€˜I’ve already met with Guy. Don’t worry, Counselor, I’ll be there at nine.’
    â€˜Yeah, well, I am worried. But if everything goes like it did today, and you testify the way you did on the stand, I’m confident the good people of Miami-Dade County will do the right thing and indict. Now I’m thinking ahead. If our defendant’s not talking and he’s not plea-bargaining, then for trial purposes, we’re gonna need something tangible to tie him to the murder: blood, semen, hair, smoking gun. Any of the above would be nice. Anything on the boat?’
    â€˜We’re running tests on shredded fibers that were found in the