Dread Champion (28 page)

“Breaker Beach is right in the middle of the large Monterey Bay,” he began in a reedy voice.“Here.”He indicated with a long pointer. “Immediately below it is Zmudowski State Beach, and below that is Moss Landing State Beach. This entire area”—he moved the pointer up and down—“is known for its strong rip currents. Because of this, all water sports at these beaches are considered hazardous.”

“Can you explain the specific hazards of a rip current?”

Dr. Gaston launched into an explanation, a man in his element. Rip currents created what was termed the Bernoulli effect, he said, their waters moving faster than surrounding water. The resulting force trapped a person in the middle of this rapidly moving stream. Experienced ocean swimmers knew not to fight a rip current if they found themselves caught in one. They allowed themselves to be carried out to sea until the velocity of the current diminished enough that they could swim parallel to the beach. Once they were completely out of the rip current, they could swim ashore.

“So rip currents can get the best of even a strong swimmer?” Stan prodded.

“Yes, if he fights it. The current can be so strong that the swimmer won't be able to pull out of it. He will waste all his strength fighting. Then once the current finally abates, sometimes far off- shore, he will lack the strength to swim back to the beach.Unless he is rescued, he will drown.”

“And this is the condition of currents off Breaker Beach?”

Dr. Gaston adjusted his glasses with scholarly aplomb. “Absolutely.”

Stan's eyes flicked to the courtroom clock. It would soon be noon. He did not want to be interrupted in the middle of key testimony about tides the night Shawna Welk was killed. “Your Honor,” he said, looking to the judge, “this would be a good time to break for lunch.”

I
N THE JURY ROOM
Chelsea ate her sandwich distractedly. She'd noticed a new face in the courtroom. A young Hispanic man.As she and the other jurors were filing out, she'd seen Milt Waking approach him.

Is this important, Lord? Do you want me to pray?

She received no definite answer. Still, she could not push that scene from her mind. The young man, obviously out of his element, and Milt, cool, slick as always.What would they possibly have to say to one another?

“What's the matter, Chelsea?” B. B.'s voice broke through her thoughts. “You look like you're in another world.”

“Oh.” She smiled. “I was just … thinking about the trial.”

“Well, don't think too hard,”B. B. said, laughing. “There's plenty of time for that yet.” She pulled up a chair.

Chelsea's heart sank. She didn't want to be unfriendly. But she felt she should pray for that young man right now. And for Milt. God had called her to be diligent, to pray as seemed right. She couldn't expect a specific leading from the Lord every moment.

Can I do both, God? Can I talk to B. B. and pray at the same time?

Of course she could. Hadn't she been doing pretty much the same thing through much of the testimony? Asking God's blessing on the trial, Kerra, Brett, herself, even as she furiously took notes?

“So tell me what you do for fun when you're not stuck on a jury,” Chelsea prompted B. B. And in the back of her mind she prayed,
Dear Lord, lead Milt's actions today. And be with that young man, whoever he is…

R
OGELIO SAT OPPOSITE MILT
in a corner booth of a small Italian restaurant near the courthouse. Rogelio wasn't used to eating pasta. He'd chosen soup and a salad, hoping his nervous stomach would allow him to eat.Milt didn't seem that hungry, either. He was picking at his tortellini, his mind clearly more on their lulling conversation. Rogelio still wasn't sure how much to tell him. He'd had little time to consider it. The testimony and atmosphere of the courtroom had interested him far more than he would have expected.

“Why is that guy's testimony such a big deal?” he asked, stalling for time. “All that talk about waves and tides.”

“The prosecutor has to prove that Shawna Welk's body was swept out to sea,”Milt explained.

“Well, yeah.Where else would it have gone?”

“Nowhere. But Welk's attorney doesn't have much to offer in the way of defense. The evidence is stacked against them. So he's got to make mountains out of molehills. The prosecutor knows that one of those molehills will be to suggest that if Shawna was killed at that beach, her body would have washed up on shore.”

Rogelio could think of nothing to say.He ate his soup in silence.

Milt took a few more bites, carefully keeping a hand over his tie. “So.What did you want to talk to the judge about?”

Setting down his spoon, Rogelio stared at the white tablecloth. He still didn't have a clue what he should do. “First I have to know if you can help me.”

“How can I promise to help you if I don't even know what you need?”

He had a point.

“Okay.” Rogelio thought fast. “How about this to start? I need some information on a person. All I have is his name. I hear he's been in some trouble with the law, and I'd like to know exactly what. Could you find something out for me?”

“I'll see what I can do,”Milt said, shrugging, “but I don't have time to be running around as long as I'm covering this case.What's the name?”

“Enrico Delgadia.”

Milt shook his head, obviously not recognizing it.“Know where he lives?”

“Somewhere in the Salinas area, I guess.”

“Mm. If he's been in trouble with the law, there may be some news articles about him. Let me fire up my laptop and check it out.”

Hope surged through Rogelio. Could the guy possibly come up with answers this quickly?

Milt shoved plates and silverware aside and set up his computer. “This thing's got a wireless hookup. I'll plug the name into a search engine, see if we get lucky.”

Rogelio didn't know what a wireless hookup was but did not ask. He watched the reporter's face as Milt typed quickly, then waited. Satisfaction creased Milt's features.

“Got a bunch of hits.” His eyes flicked back and forth. He continued to read and click the computer for what seemed a long time, his reactions clear in the darkening knit of his brows. Tension stiffened Rogelio's legs. Finally he could stand it no longer.

“Tell me!”

Milt looked up.“Enrico Delgadia is the owner of ChefMate in Salinas,” he said. “A company that packages food products.You know it?”

Rogelio nodded, amazed. Chef Mate was huge, its buildings and green lawns spread along a road just outside Salinas.“What did he do?”

“Numerous things, according to these articles from the
Californian.
You don't read the Salinas newspapers?”

Rogelio shook his head.

“He's been charged with tax evasion twice, plus money laundering and price fixing. Sounds like he's been to court at least three times. Always found innocent. Know what he looks like? Here's a picture.”

Milt turned the computer around and Rogelio leaned over the table. The news article showed a close-up of Delgadia, lips drawn back in anger. It was an evil face.

Milt pulled the computer back toward him. “This last article is particularly interesting.He'd been charged with running some kind of illegal gambling scheme, and the cops had a witness. Just before Delgadia was due in court, the witness ‘disappeared.' Doesn't sound like the kind of guy you'd want to mess with.”

Rogelio drew in a breath. “What happened?”

Milt read further.“They had to let him go. It mentions him walking away from the courthouse with his wife and newly adopted daughter.”

“Roselita!” Rogelio moaned. He slumped back in his chair. He could not bear to think of his baby with such a man.

Milt eyed him. “Roselita?”

Oh no.
Rogelio pressed his lips together.

The reporter continued staring. Rogelio could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. “Is Roselita the wife or the baby?”

“Baby.” The word was barely audible.

“I see.” Milt thought a moment. “Any chance,” he said slowly, “she's your biological daughter?”

Rogelio couldn't hide the truth from his face.

Milt fell silent.“What's the connection to the trial?” he asked after a moment. “Was the adoption through Shawna Welk's agency?”

This guy was too smart. For a brash moment Rogelio considered walking out of the restaurant without looking back. But then— what?

“Yeah.”

“When was it?”

“Seven months ago.”

“Just before she was killed.” Milt tapped his computer. “Why would an agency let someone like this guy adopt a baby?”

Rogelio gazed distractedly out the window. A Corvette rolled down the street, windows open, music blaring. Even in the restaurant he could feel the bass in his chest.

He thought of Janet's warning of a long, hard court battle. Of all the twisted accusations a man like Delgadia might throw out to win the fight. A fight in the courts was one thing; a fight with a man who apparently made people disappear was something else. Rogelio felt way in over his head. It wasn't just his safety. He had Kristin and Mama Yolanda to worry about.

Maybe he should forget the whole thing.

But how could he, knowing that his daughter would be raised by this ruthless man?

“Iknow a lot of people.”
The reporter's words ran through his head.

“It wasn't legal,” he said quietly.

“The adoption wasn't legal? Why?”

Rogelio sank fingers into the arm of his chair.What should he do? If he told his story to some reporter, would Kristin ever forgive him?

“Look, it's getting late.”Milt sounded impatient.“You have something to tell me, you'd better do it now; I need to be back in court in fifteen minutes.”

Rogelio felt as if he were jumping off an ocean cliff. He steeled himself. “Okay then. I'll tell you,” he said. “But I … I want something in return.You have to promise that you won't tell anybody else until we agree what to do.”

“Deal.”

“It won't be in the news.”

“Yes. Okay.”

Solemnly Rogelio extended his hand over the table.Milt looked surprised, then shook it.When he tried to pull away, Rogelio held on firmly. “A man's word is his life.”He gave Milt a piercing look. “If his word is no good, he is worth nothing.”

The reporter held his gaze. “Agreed.”

Rogelio's fingers slid away.Milt flexed his shoulders, adjusted his suit coat. “So go ahead.”

Rogelio told him.

By the time he was through,Milt looked as if he'd been hit by lightning. His eyes cruised over the table as if searching for where to begin.

“Do you realize what this means?” he said, gaping.“The defense would
kill
for this information. It would blow this case wide open.”

All Rogelio could think of were his own problems.He gave Milt a blank look.

“It would bring a whole other person into the case,” Milt explained rapidly.“A person with a real motive to want Shawna Welk dead.After all, dead people tell no tales.What's more,Delgadia's history suggests he's capable of knocking somebody off when it suits him.”

The words streaked through Rogelio like wildfire.How could he not have realized? In that instant he understood the strength of Mama Yolanda's tie to the trial. No wonder God was calling her to pray. For a moment Rogelio marveled at that, amazed at what God had chosen to do, amazed that he would bother at all. Then worries crowded back into his head.

“I don't care about the trial.” He pointed at Milt. “I told you so you could help me get Roselita back.”

“But this is perfect.”Milt pushed his computer aside and leaned toward Rogelio.“If the defense were to hear this information, they'd immediately subpoena Delgadia and Janet Cline, plus all the adoption papers. They'd requestion Tracey. If they could prove she went along with this, her testimony would be in tatters.And
she's
the prosecution's main witness.”

“So?”

“So.”Milt shook his head, as if astounded at Rogelio's ignorance. “Reporters watching the case would be all over your story. They'd be all over Delgadia. Everything would be out in the open, and he'd be watched like a hawk. Which means he couldn't pull anything underhanded.”

“It didn't seem to stop him before,” Rogelio commented.

“That was different. It was probably some sleazy witness with his own criminal history. Someone who could have been done in by lots of people. Delgadia could get away with it. But everyone would be watching out for you. Plus the adoption papers will prove you're telling the truth.”

“What about Kristin? I don't want reporters bothering her, calling her a baby seller.” Rogelio's gut churned.What had he done?

“It's all in the spin, Rogelio,”Milt declared. “The defense would make Delgadia out to be a murder suspect, never mind that he was miles away from the beach that night. He'd be the bad guy. He already is.When I break the story, I'll tell how you and Kristin were lied to, taken advantage of. Just two young kids trying to do the best for their daughter. Besides, you were honorable enough to come forward with what you've discovered. The public would eat it up. They'd be outraged at Delgadia and Shawna Welk.Do you see?”Milt shook his head.“Delgadia wouldn't have time to form a plan against you. He'd be too busy defending himself!”

Rogelio stared at the floor, heart beating in his ears.He couldn't believe this was happening. “When would you report the story?”

Milt tapped two fingers together, frowning. “First I would need to get all the facts from you and verify them.” His eyes fixed in the distance as he thought. Finally he nodded.“Okay.”He pulled out his notebook, then his pen. “Let's go over all the information. Then we can talk strategy. I've got some ideas. …”