Privileged Witness Read Online Free PDF

they traveled light with their money: big spaces, minimal furniture, maximum indulgences. Sex, friends, food. They were successful and sought after. They were brilliantly suited because of their age, their intelligence, and their accomplishments. They were hungry for success so they cut a swath through their respective industries: Matthew turning his father's tech business into an empire and Josie topped the list of go-to criminal attorneys when you were bad, wealthy and didn't want to pay for what you'd done. That was a long time ago; a time she thought she had forgotten. But now, standing in this place where Matthew lived his wife, Josie was amazed to find there was still hurt and regret to be had.
    Matthew had not only chosen a life diametrically opposed to the one he shared with Josie, he had chosen a woman who was the antithesis of her.. Michelle McCreary was as petite as Josie was tall, as refined as Josie was self-reliant, as stylish as Josie was careless of the rules of fashion. Funny, Josie had always imagined Matthew with a woman who reminded him of her. Michelle McCreary's portrait hung above the fireplace. Her image smiled graciously down on Josie as if she understood it was hard to lose
    Josie turned away from the picture and crossed the cavernous living room, went out on the huge balcony, pulled up beside the man she was looking for and parked her arms on the balcony wall. Rather than look at him, she leaned over to watch the activity below.
    The jumper who had fallen through the air minutes earlier lay unmoving on the huge inflatable mattress that had been precisely positioned below the penthouse. A Matrix Stunts truck was parked on the plaza. Two uniformed cops kept looky-loos at bay. It was quite a production and Josie gave Grace McCreary credit for her intuition. The Long Beach Police Department was spending a pretty penny investigating Michelle McCreary's suicide.
    ''This is a crime scene. Invitation only.'' The redhead detective next to Josie never took his eyes off the woman on the mattress as he spoke.
    ''That's funny. Since the coroner released the body and allowed a burial, I would assume I'm standing at the scene of a tragic suicide. That would mean you're the one trespassing.''
    Josie swiveled her head. The detective did the same. Josie smiled, the detective did not. Yet behind his long red/blond lashes, the detective's hazel eyes registered a blip of amusement. His poker face was admirable and tough to pull off for a guy who looked like he did: porcelain skin that wouldn't last more than a minute at the beach, red hair shot with bronze, freckles. Josie couldn't quite pinpoint what made the difference between him looking like an escapee from Mayberry and a man a woman would like to know better. Whatever it was, it was potent.
    ''Josie Baylor-Bates. Attorney.'' She gave him a nod.
    ''Babcock. Detective, Long Beach PD.'' He graced her with courteous smile.
    ''What are you doing?'' she asked.
    He straightened but kept his eyes on the ground below and his hand on the stucco balustrade.
    ''Testing the trajectory of Mrs. McCreary's fall.'' Before Josie could ask why he would be doing that, someone else joined the conversation.
    ''Want to do it again?''
    Josie looked over her shoulder. Framed in the doorway was a small woman with horrid hair and high color in her cheeks. Babcock patted the balcony rail.
    ''If you wouldn't mind, Honey.''
    Josie cocked her head. The detective caught her look as the woman squeezed between them. She seemed bored as she balanced on the wall and Babcock positioned her. Then she noticed Josie expression.
    ''Lighten up, lady. Honey's my name,'' she drawled before turning to Babcock. ''Whenever you're ready, sweetie.''
    With one hand on the woman's shoulder Babcock winked at Honey and pushed. She fell silently, calm and serene as she hit the blow-up mattress hard. Babcock's team scurried around to take measurements and outline the angle of her landing one more time.
    ''Amazing what