Until Proven Innocent

God damn it!

My hand hovered above the steering wheel of my mom's BMW for a second, ready to honk the shit out of that stupid Porsche driver in front of me. Then I decided otherwise. His license plate was from another state, anyway, so I reckoned he had no clue he was not allowed to turn onto my lane.

Additionally, I’d promised my grandma I wouldn’t get so angry anymore. She hated my driving. My phone rang for the umpteenth time. As much as I wanted to avoid picking up, I knew I had to. “Keller?“ I sighed into my headset without bothering to look at the caller ID on the built-in screen. It had to be Susan anyway. That bitch.

“Viv, where are you? Scherzer is really pissed at you,“ my paralegal informed me. I rolled my eyes. Everyone hated Judge Scherzer. He was one of the strictest and rudest judges in the entire state of Bavaria. “God, I know. I’m just caught up in traffic…“ I lied. “Again,“ Susan remarked, and I swear I could hear her eyebrows being raised.

“Shut up, tell him I’m coming. And the client is not to say anything in my absence, are we clear?“ I could hear Susan swallow. It was a habit that really bothered me, her constant loud swallowing when she was nervous. “And fucking stop your stupid swallowing alright?“ I hissed. If nerves were strings, then mine would definitely be half-severed pieces of dental floss, always at the verge of ripping apart. With this shitty job, they kind of had to.

I threw my shoulder length brown hair back and applied some lipstick while waiting at the traffic light. With my blueish green eyes and my sensual lips, I was what most people would describe as pretty, but I hated my freckles.

Today I didn’t have time to cover them, though, I’d overslept. And by overslept I mean really overslept. In fact, I slept until after the sitting was supposed to start. And I was almost thirty minutes away from the courthouse then, still dressed in my pajamas and rubber duck print socks. Just fucking peachy.

What have I done wrong to end up like this? I didn’t know. Two years ago I was one of the most promising law students in the entire state, already preparing and socializing for what seemed to be the surely coming dream career as a state attorney. Possibly I could even have been given capital crimes after some years, when it took most people decades.

Usually it took a great amount of time to make it that far. You started off with simple things. Drug stuff, driving under the influence, maybe some insults or nazi paroles, then later maybe assault, fraud, arson, maybe juveniles for a while. But I could have made it to capital crimes much earlier, thanks to all my connections.

Well, and then?
I got sentenced to a hefty fine for smoking a little marijuana, and suddenly I had a criminal record - and no chance of getting the status of a civil servant, which a DA was in Germany, as well as a judge or a notary. It meant: Bye-bye state attorney and capital crimes, even good-bye to being a DA and at least having interesting cases, hello defending criminals in low profile trials.

Because of one mistake.

I sighed as I pulled into my mom’s parking lot. She, of course, was a state attorney and had the right to a large parking spot directly in front of the courthouse. Since I knew she was on a short trip to Amsterdam with my dad, a retired judge, I could use it. And because I did not possess a car of my own and simply parked hers there, no-one would even take notice that I parked where I was not supposed to. Or so I thought.

After rushing to the right room, apologizing a hundred times, and making a shitty deal with the DA, I walked out of the courthouse again. A sheet of paper was jammed under mom’s windshield wiper. A parking ticket, great. “Parking spot only rented during Mrs. Keller’s hours, therefore parking violation,“ said an elegantly curved handwriting on the margin.

Fuck.

“Viv, didn’t you forget something?“ Susan shouted as she ran towards my car, waving my calendar. She had a pretty face and beautiful dark brown hair that reached to her waist - well, to where her waist would be if she probably weighed half of what she did now. But that was none of my business.

She chuckled as she approached “my“ parking spot. “A little daring, are we?“ She only spotted the ticket then. “God damn it, Vivian Keller! This is the third one this month. When will you learn that using your mom’s car does not entitle you to her parking spot?“

I turned away. I was always moody, but today I felt like I was soon going to tear a muscle or something from always rolling my eyes. It was one of those phases were Susan could not do a thing right in my eyes. I knew I was being unfair, but God damn it! I had just been left by my boyfriend. I had to let it out somewhere!

“For fuck's sake, Susan!“ I interrupted her ongoing talk about the city’s parking rules which I knew all too well. She fell silent.

“Garner from the correctional facility called twice today,“ Susan told me after a few seconds. Garner? Did she mean Bernhard Garner? From THE correctional facility? I raised an eyebrow to show my interest. “Speak,“ I said, trying hard to hide my annoyance when Susan once again needed me to ask for details.

God damn it woman, I scoffed in my mind, what else would me looking at you and being quiet mean after you’re telling me Garner called? I sure as hell don’t want to know about your weekend or about the pope’s sex life.

“They arrested someone last night, some guy from California. Apparently, he’s in some kind of rock band and raped and killed a 17 year old after a concert last night.“ Why are you telling me this? And what the hell... But first of all, why are you telling me this?

“And he wants… me?“ My eyes widened as I realized what that call meant. “But… All I ever do is theft and fraud… and drug stuff?“ Susan shrugged. “They said he wants a bilingual lawyer, not a lawyer and a translator. And Garner could only think of you,“ she said.

Why did I ever tell him I’m partly American? At this moment, I cursed myself for getting too drunk at a party one night and telling Garner about my fucked up life. It was true, though, that my Mom went to school in the States up until tenth grade. My German grandma moved back to Germany with her after my grandpa died, hence was why we were here in this small Southern town. Mom insisted I speak both languages.

But that was not why I guessed that Garner called me. He wanted to see me. And help me. I did want to work difficult cases, murder and the likes, so much was true. But I wanted to get those because I deserved it, not because some guy from the correctional facility wanted to impress me…

Whatever, I’d deal with it on Monday. Yeah, Monday… I desperately needed a break right now, and I was as glad as every week that it was Friday already.

Notes

Hello my loves, and a warm welcome to everyone who found their way to my new story!! This is not going to progress too fast, but I do hope I'll be able to update twice a week :)

I really hope you like it. Thanks a lot for checking it out.