Page 4 of A Reputation Dark & Deadly

"So she's not allowed to change her mind?" Logan asked, quirking a brow. His jaw was set and the intensity of his stare caused Peyton's heart to palpitate.

"What?" she asked, feeling relatively stupid.

"Change her mind," he repeated. "Don't pretend like you don't have a goddamn clue what I'm talking about, either. You women change your mind constantly. Let's say you're right," he began as he started to pace back up and down the front of the classroom. "Let's say she initiates the flirting, she laughs and twirls her fucking hair and bats her fucking eyelashes. Let's say you're right so the witnesses see her all over them. Let's say she leads them to the room and they get into the room and they start kissing and fondling. Is she allowed to change her fucking mind?"

Peyton bit the inside of her bottom lip. His words sunk in and she realized that he had her because of course she was allowed to change her mind. It's did matter if she was naked, ready for him to enter her, she could still say no. She had that right.

"And," he went on slowly, his eyes meeting Peyton's once more, "she claims she did. And you, a reasonably intelligent young woman is looking me in my fucking eyes and telling me that that, unto itself, might not even be goddamn good enough? Are you fucking crazy or just sexist?" Peyton wrinkled her nose and his brow shot straight to the sky. "Whoa, there, sweetheart, did I touch a nerve? You're reacting to my comments in a way that I've never fucking seen before. Why so fucking defensive?"

Peyton had no idea what to say. She just knew she hated the man in front of her and she hated how confident she had been thinking that she would be right and he would be wrong and she could beat him. How silly, how ignorant she was.

"So, once again, we have a he said-she said," Logan continued, his eyes sweeping across the class. "There were only three fucking people in that room that night. Sex definitely happened. Whether it was rape or consensual is schematics. In the end, a lot of prosecutors will not prosecute on a he said-she said." His hazel eyes found Peyton's once more. "Care to tell me why, sweetheart?"

"The DA won't file unless he knows it's something he can win," she said, trying to keep her voice strong but failing miserably.

"Exactly," Logan said, crinkling his eyes and pointing at her gleefully. "Ex-fucking-actly. The DA is the biggest bitch of them all. That guy won't file unless he knows it's a case he can fucking win. Now, it's a practice all DA's fucking adhere to because prosecutors are pussies but a big reason the Newport DA is so fucking stingy about shit like this is because of a 1931 case against an old time fucking gangster Alvin Herbert. That guy was a fucking hoot, let me tell you. I'm sure you've all heard of him, he's fucking notorious here, but does anyone know what case I'm fucking referring to?"

No one raised their hands. When Peyton realized no one would, she did.

Logan seemed surprised. "Really, sweetheart?" he asked with a grin. "You don't seem like the bad boy type."

"He's not the typical modern day bad boy," she said before she could stop herself. "Alvin Herbert was a gangster from the nineteen thirties, from the depression era. He was known as the Robin Hood of the Thirties, stealing from the banks and giving to the poor. In fact, during one hold up, he refused to take money from a man who had been about to deposit it. He never fired first, that was his thing, and on the rare occasion he took tellers with him to shield him and his men as they made their getaway, he was always cordial, polite, and even charming."

"Thank you for that goddamn history lesson nobody asked for," Logan said, though there was a slight surprise to his face as he watched her speak about Alvin Herbert. "What case am I referring to, sweetheart? Let's stay fucking focused."

Peyton rolled her eyes before she could stop herself. His mouth dropped open at her reaction and his eyes widened, as though couldn't believe anyone would dare give him attitude, especially in public. Not as though anyone was really paying attention to her. Their eyes were either on the surface of the desk, praying to God Logan didn't call on them, or watching him from the corner of their eyes, trying not to make direct eye contact with him. He was solely focused on her, however, and Peyton wasn't sure that was a good thing.

"During one of his armed robberies, as he was getting away, a police officer shot at him," Peyton explained. Her eyes never left Logan's. Whether that was by design or if it was because she wasn't fully able to, she couldn't say. "Barker was wearing a bulletproof vest on the inside of his suit so he didn't die. However, Herbert shot back in self-defense and killed the officer. The thing is, there were so many bullets going off, witnesses at the time couldn't pinpoint who actually killed the officer but Hoover and the rest of the Bureau of Investigation wanted to blame Herbert because the public was in love with him. When he was caught in St. Paul, he was extradited to California, where the death took place on those charges."

"You know your Newport history," Logan murmured and it sounded as though he was genuinely impressed with her.

Peyton shrugged dismissively. "I know Alvin Herbert history," she replied. "The DA was so sure he was going to win, he demanded the police department throw a case together as soon as possible."

"What a bitch, am I right?" Logan asked, throwing his gaze around the room but keeping his body square in front of Peyton. "The guy can't even wait for the police to collect their goddamn evidence. That's how bad DA Peterson wanted a win even though, besides a dead officer, there was absolutely no fucking evidence to put his ass away. Think about that for a minute. There was a shit ton of pressure from everyone. Herbert finally had a charge that might be able to stick. Old Newport Jail is small but nearly fucking impossible to escape. As slippery as the guy was, he wasn't that slippery. So he gets charged." He swept his eyes over to Peyton. "What was another thing about Herbert's trial that made it unique?"

Peyton didn't even hesitate. "Herbert stayed at the jail rather being transported to the prison," she replied.

"Ding ding fucking ding," Logan said. Peyton couldn't be sure but he seemed even more impressed now than he had been since she first stood up. "Why the fuck do you think that happened, sweetheart, since no one else in the fucking class wants to speak and you seem to have a hard-on for Herbert."

Peyton felt herself blush at the accusation but didn't deny it. "This was a big deal because prisoners were usually transported to a prison upstate until their trial," she said. "Herbert stayed in the jail the whole time. I don't think he didn't escape because he couldn't. I think he chose to remain in the jail for the duration of his trial, until they delivered the not guilty sentence."

"Really?" Logan asked, raising a brow. "And what makes you say that?"

"I mean, I've read a lot about him," she pointed out. "He learned how to pick locks the first time he got sent to prison. It was where he decided to become a bank robber in the first place. He met Bob Holks, his mentor there, networked, made some connections. He managed to escape thanks to a big bribe from Holks to one of the guards but also because he could pick locks and charm anyone he came in contact with. He managed to escape from Little Bohemia, completely surrounded by Bureau of Investigation agents, armed and ready to take his gang out. Do you know how impossible that is? There's a lake behind the inn and agents surrounding the front. If you visit the place today, there are still bullet casings on the grounds. He was the only survivor. If he can escape that without a scratch, there's no way some jail is going to keep him locked up." She shook her head. "I think he chose to stay."

"And why do you think that is, sweetheart, since you think you know so goddamn much about him?" Logan asked.

"In jail, he could have daily visitors," she explained. "Lola Faulkner visited him every day for the duration of his trial. I think he would rather stay, knowing he would see her every day, than escape and risk being on the run. If he got a not guilty verdict, which he did, he wouldn't have to run anymore. He could actually start a life with her."

"Except for the fact Hoover's Bureau wanted him so fucking badly for laws that weren't even in the federal jurisdiction until Barker committed them and Hoover changed the laws," Logan said, his eyes dancing with merriment. "I mean, Jesus fucking Christ, think about that. Hoover wanted this guy so badly, he changed the laws. And finally, he fucking gets him, but Petersen files without even looking at the fucking evidence. He wants the police to do his job. What happens?"

"The jury says not guilty," Peyton responded. "Petersen underestimates the public's love for him and overestimates the police and his own ability to get a guilty verdict. He thinks that because everyone knows Barker is a bad guy, the jury would have no choice but to convict. But he's wrong."

"But he's wrong," Logan agreed, not taking his eyes off of Peyton. "Okay, assholes, time to go. You better come back Wednesday with more shit to say. I'm tired of hearing her talk so damn much."

But then, as he continued to stare at Peyton, he nodded once. A sign of approval.

Peyton swallowed as she forced herself to look away, her throat raw and dry, and started collecting her books. She had survived her first class with Logan Jeffrey. Now, she just needed to survive the year.