Blackness Takes Over & Blackness Awaits (28 page)

Taylor was still a constant. We worked out every morning together, with and without Cally. We had lunch together most days, the days where I was able to squeeze in a meal that consisted of actual food. I had backed him off a bit though. Kel and I went on dates alone. No third wheel action for me, and I think Taylor was uncomfortable watching us anyway. I felt safe with Kel, I knew he’d never let anything happen to me. I needed our relationship to be as real as possible and having a bodyguard hovering at dinner wasn’t exactly a romantic setting.

With our schedules what they were we didn’t go on a lot of dates, but the dates we had were really great. He took me to a Chiefs game. I took him go-kart racing. He took me to dinner and dancing on 18
^th
and Vine (jazz district). I took him to a University of Kansas basketball game (I think he teared up). We had movie nights and dinners out and we had a lot of hot, sweaty, passionate sex. We were a normal couple getting to know each other. We hung out with the guys too: played football, watched sports, made sexually inappropriate snow people when it snowed…usual stuff. Kel fit in with them perfectly, I couldn’t have asked for a better guy to come into my life. I’m happy like I never knew I could be.

Here I am a few days before Thanksgiving knee deep in cases, with only Mia on my mind. Work has been so busy lately. I’m throwing everything I have at Butch’s case on top of my normal case load.

“Karl?” I coo into the phone intercom.

“Yes?” Karl coos back.

“Can you grab me the files on Mr. Kellerman please?”

“Sure thing. Anything else?”

“That’s all. Thanks Karl.”

Ring, ring.

Karl’s not at his desk since I just had him run off in search of files.

“Shannon Kelly,” I answer swiftly in Karl’s absence.

“Shannon?” questions Butch’s attorney Phil Reed.

“Yes,” I say curtly. I don’t like Reed and I have a difficult time hiding this fact.

“I’ve just been sent a plea from the ADA for voluntary manslaughter, five years. And third degree assault, no time. Then there are various drug charges for distribution they let go with time served,” Reed explains. The whole time he talks, I take notes and wave Karl in silently when he peeks in the door. He takes the seat across from me and furrows his brow as he reads my notes upside down to get in the loop.

“I’m not sure how I can help you Reed,” I respond.

“We’re not takin’ a plea, Shannon. I know you’re not on our team, but I wanted you to know. Butch is not takin’ a deal now, or ever. If this is some ploy for you to get him back inside and away from Mia, it’s a fruitless effort,” he accuses. I continue to take notes for Karl’s benefit.

“Reed, I had nothing to do with that deal. I’m not involved with ADA decisions. My sole purpose is to Mia, as her GAL. You don’t need to call and admonish me for something you’re uncomfortable with, for your client. It’s unnecessary and unprofessional,” I shoot back at him. Karl takes my pad and starts scribbling away.

“That wasn’t my intention Shannon. I think you’ve seen with your own eyes that Butch isn’t what he’s been portrayed as. He is my client and I will protect him, but I can’t protect Mia too. Just keep an ear to the ground for her sake,” his snake voice is calmer now. I look at the scribbling of Karl before I respond.

Mr. Kellerman never saw Butch, Mia or Kathy. Butch’s attorney was shit. Needs reviewing.

“Reed what do you have on David Kellerman?” I ask after Karl’s note sets off a storm in my head.

“Not much actually. His testimony and original police statement are all we have. Why?”

“Well I have a bit more here. I interviewed him quite extensively for Mia’s case. I’ll have Karl courier my files over to you. They may be of some use.”

“Thanks Shannon. I’d appreciate that,” Reed almost sounds nice. Huh?

“No problem Reed. I’ll be in touch.” We both hang up quickly.

“What’re you thinkin’, Shannon?” Karl questions.

“I’m thinkin’ more and more something doesn’t add up here,” I huff. “Run this through with me.” Karl nods and pulls our trusty whiteboard over to the desk. We’re both on our feet pacing, which is how we think best.

“Okay, so Butch arrives home sometime after 9 p.m. according to him but he doesn’t know the specific time. Mr. Kellerman arrives at his home at 9:17 p.m.” Karl fills in a timeline on the board as I talk. “Mr. Kellerman hears what he describes as,” I look at my notes to get the exact wording correct, “‘a commotion’ immediately as he exits his vehicle. He goes on to say that this kind of commotion was not unheard of in the Rossi household. Before entering his home he hears the ‘blood chilling scream’ of who he believed was Kathy Rossi.” I slap the file down on my desk and make my way to the whiteboard and fill in the time of 9:19 p.m. when the police call originated.

“So at the time of the police call we are assuming Mr. Kellerman was inside his house correct?” Karl questions.

“Yes. He says that he is arming himself which means he’s in his home.”

“‘In the back bedroom, on the south side of the house’ according to the detective’s notes. Butch’s house was on the north side of Mr. Kellerman’s,” Karl reports and draws an image on the whiteboard of where Mr. Kellerman was retrieving his gun from.

“The 911 call lasts over two and a half minutes,” Karl reads from the file and fills in our timeline. “And police arrive on scene at 9:26 p.m. where they find Butch covered in blood holding Mia to his chest.”

“So we have a window of time here where there is no visual of the house of around seven minutes. That’s a lot of time for things to change in a scenario Karl.” I humph as I flop in one of the chairs on the visitor side of my desk.

“Something doesn’t fit here, Shannon,” Karl plops next to me.

I snatch the file off my desk and start reading, flipping pages vigorously to find what I’m thinking about. Karl is studying me and waiting to get clued in. I throw the police report at him.

“Look for mention of a car,” I rattle off incoherently.

“What car, Shannon?” Karl opens the file and waits for some direction.

“Butch’s car.” We both scour every page in front of us over and over; searching for what I’m sure is a missing piece of the puzzle.

“Here,” Karl thrusts a page at me from the police report, “his car was in the garage.” I flip my file and slide it to him. It reads:

Caller: I don’t know if anyone else is in the house. My neighbor’s car is in their driveway.

“Now why would Butch’s car be in the driveway at 9:17 and then in the garage nine minutes later? And how was Mr. Kellerman’s testimony shaped to make it look like he had seen Butch? He never says he actually witnessed anything other than the scream,” I huff and run my hand through my thoroughly disturbed hair.

“I’ll get all this over to Reed’s office this afternoon. I don’t know about you, but the more we get into this case, the more questions I have,” Karl huffs.

“Before you do that. Let’s have the boys look over it. I want their thoughts.”

“Sure thing Shannon. I’ll set up a meeting in conference one after lunch. You need to get to the courthouse in a half hour,” Karl informs me as he reorganizes our brainstorming mess.

“Thanks Karl,” I coo as I wrap him in a hug. “We’re a pretty good team, huh?”

“No. We’re fuckin’ amazing,” he laughs as he squeezes my shoulders tight. I hold him in a hug for a few seconds and then let go. Karl really is my only friend outside the boys and I cherish our quirky relationship.

“If I don’t see you, have a good Thanksgiving. We still on for Saturday?” I ask.

“Yeah, I need a massage now and after a holiday with my family, I’ll need two,” he smirks.

“Try to have a good time at home,” I implore. His family kind of sucks, but his little sister loves him to bits.

“I will. Good luck with Kellerman and the whole family,” he calls over his shoulder as he leaves.

I walk into conference one after making a mad dash back to the office from the courthouse. I’m stuffing a sandwich in my mouth as I breeze through the door, Taylor shadowing me silently. He grabs a chair in the corner.

“You need to eat a real lunch, Kid. You’re losin’ too much weight,” Cally admonishes.

“I just ate a sandwich. I could always stand to lose a few pounds anyway.” I shrug and throw my trash in the bin.

“Bullshit, and you know it,” Sully pipes in. “You could’ve used ten pounds on you before this Butch case got goin’, now it’s more like fifteen.” I roll my eyes, but refrain from responding. I have lost quite a bit of weight as of late. It’s not like I’m wasting away or anything though.

“Okay boys. I’ll eat a donut. Now let’s go over this damn hole in the timeline.”

“Taylor, make her eat three meals a day would ya?” Sully ignores my attmept to change the subject.

“I try every day. She doesn’t listen to me anymore than she does you three.” Taylor shrugs.

“Shut up, Taylor.” I throw daggers at him with my green eyes. He smirks and shakes his head. “Can we get to work please? Let’s go over this case.”

“O’Sullivan and I went through it at lunch. You’re right Kid, somethin’ doesn’t add up here,” Kavy says moving over to the whiteboard with the timeline and sketches on it. Karl comes in just as Kavy starts to talk. I grin at him and motion for him to take the seat next to me. I notice Taylor lowering his hand from his hip (gun) as he recognizes Karl. I know I’m safe when Taylor’s in a room, but seeing him at attention reassures me even more.

“This time where there are no eyes on the house needs to be researched. We have no witnesses and no evidence of what transpired during this time,” Kavy explains.

“That’s not actually the case, Mr. Kavanagh,” Karl interjects. All eyes are on him now. Karl makes his way to Kavy and the whiteboard sliding a file along the conference table in front of us.

“I did some digging at the ADA’s office this morning and found this,” he says motioning to the file. Cally picks it up and starts reading it quickly as Karls explains.

“Karen Waterman, of one fifty-eight Tracy Avenue, stated in an interview seeing a dark sedan leaving the neighborhood at 9:23 p.m. She believed it to be the car of Butch Rossi. At 9:24 p.m. Robert Griffith, of two twenty-nine Tracy Avenue, stated in an interview that he witnessed a dark sedan entering the neighborhood. He identified the driver to be Butch Rossi, providing a description of Butch’s hat and shirt. It matches what Butch was wearing when police arrived on scene.”

Karl moves to the whiteboard and draws the street where the witnesses lived in respect to the crime scene. Butch and the Kellermans lived halfway between Ms. Waterman and Mr. Griffith. One of them must be wrong in identifying Butch. My guess is Ms. Waterman.

“How could Butch’s attorney have missed this in the original trial?” I question the group.

“It took me forever to find it. The police interviewed the whole block. Everyone saw people and cars. If you weren’t looking for this specific information, you weren’t findin’ it. If you hadn’t brought up the car, I wouldn’t have thought of it,” Karls responds to me.

“He’s right, Kid,” Kavy chimes in. “The car is a big clue that we all missed. It’s a good catch on your part, Kid. You too Karl.”

Karl and I smile at each other and then at Kavy in thanks.

“If Butch was my client, I’d be all over this. Between this and the investigator tampering with evidence, Butch should be free and clear of this,” Sully argues. “I don’t see how he could have done this, Kid. I don’t think Butch killed Kathy or hurt Mia.”

There are mumblings and murmurs of agreement throughout the room. I let out a huge sigh. My heart breaks for Butch. He came home a minute after the person that murdered his wife and beat his daughter into a coma escaped, only to be convicted of the crime. Tragic doesn’t begin to describe.

I think we may have just cleared Butch, at least in our own opinions. The ADA has to make his decision as to whether or not to continue with the trial, but I’m convinced Butch didn’t do this. Mia might get her daddy back.

“Karl get this over to Reed. Shoot a call over to his assistant and give her the bullet points. Let her know we’ll help out if we can,” I tell Karl. “I’ll call the ADA and see if I can convince him of anything. I doubt it, but I’ll try for Mia’s sake.” We all nod in agreement.

I turn to my boys with a face cracking smile.

“Now, where’s my donut?”