MissTrial

Looking at the information, keeping her tone light as she talked about how this seemed to be his first possible moving violation on record, he seemed to be more at ease about everything. When she caught him staring longer than expected, a bit of firm, sensual sounding authority was added to her voice.

"Sir, I know you can respect that it's a hot day, and that if anything should be paid attention to, it's this badge."

Raising her badge, she brought it up to hover in-front of her cleavage from his vantage point, the surface shining gently at him.

"If you can promise to follow the law like you follow this badge, you won't have anything to worry about with the ticket, if there's even a need for one. Just follow the badge, following the law, to ease the situation..."

Cleavage still on his mind, rhythmic flashes of light and an almost sexy, authoritative voice combined to catch Roland off-guard until there was no difference between her badge and the law, both under her authority. Several more deeper trances followed prepared the mob enforcer for a time when he would have to show his loyalty, to more than one side. He maintained his loyalty to Richie by keeping his gun on Kelli, and he proved his loyalty to Kelli by keeping the gun unloaded, and after hearing how Richie liked ordered hits to go down, to keep Roland's arm out and ready to shoot.

Safeguards in-place and with time to spare before his appearance at the trial, Richie continued to listen interested, relaxed and unbidden.

"At this trial, you and your lawyer would be there, but...wanted control of the judge, or the prosecutor if I could, puppets of mine used to pull the strings of the galley, the guards, and the public. I would want control of them while I would be your lawyer, speaking in persuasive tones to ensure your freedom."

"M-my...freedom," Richie blinked in gentle disbelief, Kelli's explanation suddenly dragging his thoughts in a different direction.

"Yes, I'm safe if you're free. There is safety in freedom, in knowing that going through every motion, every moment, the outcome is already decided. You can sit back and enjoy watching witnesses witness and recall only the things I say, confused and following my words. As your defense, even if you have no defense, I would still dazzle the court with my words. You have no defense...and you still win. You have no defense...and are still afforded a mistrial by your MissTrial lawyer," Kelli spoke, pride seeping into her voice about how she might pull such a feat off. "In the courtroom, no matter how bright it is, a dark void of silence covers the room, lit only by my illuminating words."

Outside of the awareness of either men, Kelli procured an item from her evening purse, a lighter, gold with an insignia in the shape of Ireland on it. It looked so similar to one Richie hadn't seen since he pickpocketed from Kelli so long ago. Before he could question the similarities between it and the one he'd lost, he lost himself in how she handled the lighter one-handed, practiced motions effortlessly flicking the top open and shut, sparking a flame that lit the dim insides of the limo, letting it linger as she spoke.

"Like how I would trick a witness with witnessing this flame, convinced it was evidence, an exhibit against you, but confusing him with technical jargon like 'zippo.'"

Raptured confusion was the condition Richie found himself under, trying parse through more than the word "zippo," but simply being dragged wherever Kelli's voice lead.

"Nice Zippo you've got here. Always loved that word, 'zippo'. So catchy, kind of sticks in your head for a good while. I've found it catchy since I was a kid, so it must have a strong way of staying with you, appearing in even the oddest points of your memory, or your imagination."

Kelli seemed to admire the lighter in her hands, more animated and absorbed in casually flicking it open and closed with a grace that looked extremely practiced, giving the viewer the impression that she was a smoker too, impressed by the gentle wrist motions that seemed to maximize showing off the shiny gold surface when lit. The varied lighting of the lighter's surface meshed well with her sparking the flame just as effortlessly, every so often. But even when flicked close and the light temporarily extinguished, Kelli's tones and tempo carried on as arresting, complementing both light and darkness.

"Since I was a kid, I always wanted to learn how to use these things like the heroes did in the movies, looking so cool, using something so hot. Once I got my hands on a zippo like this, I just needed to know how to flick it open, like so..."

Kelli made a deliberate motion to emphasize the sound of it opening. "And like so..." And closing.

"And like so...." and opening "And so on..." and closing "And so forth..." and opening. Both Kelli and her audience knew on some level how the clicking sounds were so well-timed with the rhythm of her words. "Maybe like you would think your words would amount to here today, practiced and convincing, as if, it has to be this way, it has to be exactly as described."

"So determined," *click* "to break it down to perfection," *click* "to make it look effortless," *click* "to make it look natural," *click* "to make it like I could do this all day" *click* "and never tire of watching," *click* "listening" *click* "being absorbed in looking so cool," *click* "holding something that could be so hot," *click*

Kelli broke the rhythm for a moment to let captive eyes linger on the flame she sparked alive and waved back and forth, occasionally rubbing her hands over the flame at key speaking points.

"Isn't this flame just on the warm side of hot when your hand goes over it?"

"Isn't it a comfortable kind of warm?"

"Isn't it warm like the sun?"

"Isn't it warm like my words?"

"Isn't it warm like the calmness of truth, the real truth deep inside you?"

"Isn't it warm as you listen to us both become fascinated by the strength of the truth? Breaking things down." *click* "Until the truth is simple." *Click* "And you know the truth." *Click* "That there is no need for defense," *Click* "Only the truth, broken down to simplicity. *Click* "No defense." *Click* "Just truth."

Kelli, remembering one of her old word-play trances, interrupted her own rhythm to return to a classic.

"You know, would you believe, just like the truth, I actually broke down the word 'zippo.'" *Click* "And maybe came up with why it's so catchy." *Click* "Why it just catches you." *Click*

Constant flashes of light in the limo reflected nowhere better than in the two pairs of glassy eyes, and one pair twinkling with glee.

"Because 'zippo' can dwindle down to 'zip.' *Click* Zipping in a straight line, a zip line" *Click* "moving forward," *Click* "one direction," *Click* "the only direction" *Click* "angling downwards," *Click* "down," *Click* "down" *Click* to simply" *Click* "the letter 'z'" *Click*

As the flashes quickened in pace, so where the paces of thoughts slowed down to whatever was received from Kelli.

"A 'z' all there by its lonesome," *Click* "wanting some company" *Click* "but when broken down," *Click* "all that we can think of is another 'z'" *Click* "and another z" *Click* "and another z" *Click* "z after z" *click* "and another z" *Click* "so many z's" *Click* "so so many z's" *Click*

Kelli brought the zippo's flame close to both Richie's and Roland's eyes both so empty and vacant, barely registering anything, sluggish postures so ready for the inevitable, even despite the suggestion that kept Roland's gun hand up.

"And I'm sure you know what all those z's add up to" *Click* "despite all other thoughts gone from you," *Click* "don't you?" *Click* "Don't know or can't say?" *Click* "Oh that's ok, I'll help you out."

She clicked once more right in Richie's face sharply *click* "Sleep!"

She lit the flame one more time to snuff the consciousness out of Roland too, "Sleep!" His gun hand finally allowed to fall fell hard and dropped deeper than his boss.

Kelli sighed, surveying the dark interior with another devilish smile, happiness only weighed down by not having a captive and aware audience to marvel in another genius performance. If she wasn't so pro-anonymity, she would've loved to have a live stream of this take place on social media. Checking her arm where the supposed truth serum was injected, it felt a bit sore. "Small price to pay," she thought to herself.

This really wasn't how she expected to take Richie down of all ways, totally caught off-guard by Sally and Tara the night before. Looking outside, she wondered where the mob assistant and turncoat might be. Despite the uncontrolled variables still roaming around somewhere, she reveled in the small victory of finally having her main target under control, and that enough pieces were put in-place from prior planning to finally have Richie McClung exactly where she wanted him. Kelli reminded herself to stay vigilant, but not to hesitate in letting the coming events to play out as intended.

"And now boys, since both of you put together have fewer thoughts than I have aliases, allow me to motivate you with some words that will help your big day along..."

***

Judge Kowalski sat on the bench, pausing before addressing the full court. She looked down at the report she constantly read from the prosecution, trying to get a piece of evidence admitted that was needed to keep Richie McClung on the hook for a slew of charges brought against him, evidence mentioned by a witness out of place and now threatened the prosecution's position. She looked at all the faces of court, the breathless gallery, the nervous prosecutors, the less nervous high-priced defense lawyer, the strangely-confident defendant, but most of all, the court officers.

The law enforcement inside the court constantly remained stoic, ready to act on any orders given. In her head, she remembered dreams of such a state, vivid, raunchy, mind-numbing wet dreams that brought out to the surface a delicious darkness somehow blacker than the robe she quivered beneath; the dreams were narrated by a sexy, hypnotic voice, telling her what to think, what to say. Her lips parted as she found tingling praise at her ear, calling her a "good girl" for the decision it knew she was already going to make. Concealing a visible shiver of pleasure from her seat, taking a glass of water to cool herself, she cleared her throat and finally spoke.

"It is the decision of this court, that the evidence introduced by the defense is ruled inadmissible."

The court collectively gasped at the decision, everyone understanding what it meant; Rose almost ducked behind her seat as she pounded her gavel, dropping it, quietly mewling as she "searched" for it, having the orgasm she'd been denied almost for a whole weekend. Rising after a solid minute, controlling the convulsions, she listened to the defense's motion for a mistrial.

"Motion granted," she banged her gavel again, crushing the prosecution's chances of a likely conviction of the charges almost single-highhandedly.

Richie's entourage in-court hugged their boss, and was all smiles as he was deemed free to leave on-bail.

He only made it a few steps outside the court before finding officers ready to arrest him, for charges of wire fraud. As Richie's lawyer would explain to him later, the allegations were of stealing funds from Judge Kowalski's fundraising, directing it to an account attached to him. The charge was solid, and there was evidence that a large sum of money totaling what was identified by party-goers touched a shell account loosely tied to Richie, though that money had since been routed elsewhere. Unfortunately, the fact that it touched anything connected to him put him in legal jeopardy, leading to being remanded the same day his original case was declared a mistrial. The supposedly-cleared mobster expressed an understandable amount of rage as he was restrained and carted off to a holding cell, and in all the confusion and scrambling to get a hold of the situation, a certain thieving hypnotist was forgotten...

***

It was a few days later, on an interstate diner serving as Kelli's group's fall-back spot, that Kelli and Ned were calmly taking stock in the totality of the "zippo" situation, as Ned called it.

"Still can't believe you had that thing the whole time, so both Richie and I underestimated how devious you are," Ned lamented over his coffee, still nursing the bruise on his head.

"You've always underestimated me, since day one. You're cuter that way, which is why that part of you hasn't changed," Kelli smiled over pancakes. Her sub wanted to stick his tongue out to her like an adolescent, but he ended up laughing with her, rubbing his head. "The hit still bothering you?"

"Only a little. You could've told 'your' hitman to go easy on me you know."

"Sorry, I need to work on my selling realism, though you really shouldn't be worrying about that pain much longer..." Kelli ran her spiral fingernail over his exposed forearm. Ned set the coffee down on the table, knowing he wouldn't be able to hold it up much longer. "Because your head is too preoccupied with the sound of my voice, or the pleasure running up your arm, flowing easy up your body into your head, to notice any discomfort. Isn't that right, Neddy Bear?" The suggestions plus her triggering pet name miraculously cured the bruise upside his head.

"Mmmmm, I c-can't say you're not getting better at your salesmanship."

"Always glad to have an unbiased critique," she teased his forearm a little more before returning her hand to her meal.

"And to be fair, Roland getting implicated alongside Richie helps too."

"You're welcome, but bad cops deserve jail one way or another."

"Agreed, but what do enslaved cops deserve?" Ned never stopped asking questions he already knew the answer too, another amusement Kelli liked to keep in-tact.

"You'll find out" was what her expression told him, which seemed to sit well with him.

Taking stock of their situation, Sally and Lou were back at work, not missing Ned who was taking a very long vacation. Richie and his hitman were in jail, and the way the wire transfer was setup, the "honorable" Judge Kowalski and even Warden Sunder would soon be implicated, and discoveries about their Course of Appropriation arrangement would be brought to the proper authorities, whether they be state or federal. It would take months, if not years, to find the money Richie was arrested for stealing, never knowing Kelli would consider it severance for a weekend's worth of employment.

The only unknowable in the equation was Tara Cunningham, and after slipping away Kelli figured by-gones could be by-gones, as the assistant could probably ascend to the same position her boss once had. Kelli was content to leave things as such, and prepare to do some traveling, until she nearly choked on some of her pancakes as a familiar pair stepped up to their booth.

"Might we join you?" Tara smiled, beyond elated to see Kelli gawk unceremoniously, nearly choking on food, while Sally was just happy to see everyone seated. Ned didn't know what to do, looking to Kelli for guidance who looked incapable to give any.

"If we wanted real trouble for you Kelli, trust me, it wouldn't be us coming to see you. And don't let that go down the wrong pipe."

Kelli stared at her in disbelief, but chewed her food and gave a deliberate gulp, before stepping out to let Tara take the window seat, tactically giving herself an easier exit if needed. A bewildered Ned did the same to let Sally take the window, smiling cautiously at his friend.

"So...MissPlacement takes down Richie McClung. Who would've guessed?"

"I think Richie McClung took down Richie McClung, more like," Kelli countered.

She would've retorted, but just laughed, remembering the numerous times she advised getting the hypnotist involved in their affairs, even if she completed her job with flying colors.

"I'm guessing you're wondering how some of your best laid plans went belly up."

"And I feel like your about to satisfy that curiosity with some long-winded explanation," Kelli said, her eyes casually darting around the restaurant or outside for signs of foul play or a surprise attack.

"Oh, I doubt there's more explanation needed than this..." Tara said before extending her hand out to draw Sally's attention to it, specifically to an acutely polished nail with cloudy shades of white, grey and black, forming some sort of familiar design. "Is that fog, or mist?" The thieving hypnotist guessed, the ultimate meaning seeming ambiguous. Regardless, Sally could find deep meaning in following it, her lips parting as she leaned close to just be touched by it. Tara touched the crown of her forehead, and Sally head fell, almost hitting the table before Tara snapped her fingers to instantly awaken her.

"It seems, you're not the only leading lady around now," Tara smiled, enjoying Kelli's eyes almost bulging from her sockets. More than anything about the stupefying show Tara just performed, the nail design shocked her the most. It was specific enough, rocking the hypnotist to her core that she narrowed her eyes before speaking.

"Tell me more...if you please," Tara gasped gently as a trigger she didn't know about was activated. Ned for his part was totally lost, also wondering why Tara's nail was so intricately decorated, without knowing the context that Kelli did.

"Specifically, Tara, tell me about Cassandra..." Kelli listened more intently than she had in a long while.