Authors: M.J. Rodgers
Jack shook his head. “You can’t. As soon as the sheriff learns what you’re doing, Staker’s going to know.”
“I understand this puts you in a bind, but—”
“It’s not me in a bind, here. If you don’t find the woman and make her tell the truth in time for Connie’s trial, all we’ll have is the E.R. doctor’s statement. The deputy obviously believed the woman, which is why Bruce was never charged. Staker has what he needs to convince the jury that the unidentified woman was the one driving.”
“Jack, I’m not working on your case. I’m working on a hit-and-run.”
“Which you wouldn’t know about if I hadn’t told you. If Staker convinces the jury that Bruce wasn’t responsible for the hit-and-run of Connie’s child, he can spin the facts to make Bruce look like an innocent victim of Connie’s revenge.”
Jared exhaled tiredly. “Look, there’s a woman out there who’s either committed a crime or is an accessory to one. It’s my sworn duty to bring her in.”
“All I’m asking is that you do it without telling the sheriff.”
“I can’t. My sending that evidence to the FBI lab for evaluation can be interpreted up to this point as simple dabbling into an unsolved crime on my free time, using friendly sources willing to do me a favor so as not to tie up our local lab. But the results of that forensic evidence coupled with the E.R. doctor’s statement have changed this
into an official investigation. It’s my badge if I don’t inform the sheriff and openly pursue this case according to the book.”
Jack told his twin where he could put his damn badge and left the room. A moment later he slammed the front door to his parents’ home behind him.
As he drove away, he accepted the fact that he wasn’t being fair to his brother. He didn’t care.
From the first he’d seen Jared as an important extension of the defense team, which was why he’d talked Diana into putting the investigation of Amy’s hit-and-run into his twin’s hands. But now Jared was going to be helping the prosecution.
And it was all Jack’s fault.
D
IANA SMILED
when she saw Jack waiting for her outside the jail Monday morning.
“How’s Connie?” he asked as they started toward their vehicles in the lot.
“In good spirits. I dropped off some tapes of
Seattle
so she could watch them. Fran is going to set them up on the VCR and watch them, too. You have a couple of fans there.”
When he shrugged without comment, concern overrode her pleasure at seeing him. “What’s wrong, Jack?”
Opening his passenger door, he beckoned her inside. Once they were seated, he related the details of the conversation with Jared the evening before.
As disappointed as she was with the turn of events, she knew Jack was more so. “We’ll find a way to work through it,” she said simply.
“I shouldn’t have brought Jared in on the case. You had reservations from the first about sharing things with him. I didn’t listen.”
“You did the right thing, Jack. Without Jared’s help, we might not have an unbreakable chain of evidence linking Bruce to Amy’s death. Nor would we have gotten the forensic information so quickly and unequivocally verified.”
Jack continued to stare out the windshield, the muscles in his jaw working. “Staker’s going to use that quick, unequivocal information against Connie. This gives her a
much stronger motive for killing Bruce than jealousy over another woman.”
Diana hated hearing the disappointment Jack was directing at himself. She put her hand on his arm. “If you want to know the truth, I never expected to be able to keep the facts surrounding Amy’s hit-and-run from Staker even this long.”
He looked at her. “That’s not what you said at lunch the first day we discussed the case.”
“You’re right. I asked you for the sun, moon and stars that day. And damn if you didn’t jump to your feet, rush out and start to round them up.”
His hand closed over hers. “You’re the kind of woman who can do that to a man.”
A long moment passed in which Diana forgot everything but the man sitting beside her.
The sudden blast of a car alarm nearby dropped her back to earth. She swung toward the noise and saw an obviously frustrated man several cars away, punching on his remote control, cursing as he tried to deactivate the device.
By the time Diana turned back to Jack, his hand was no longer holding hers and he was once again looking out the window. She slipped her hand from his arm.
“You’re going to have to remind me what we were talking about,” he said.
She let out a sigh. “As soon as I remember.”
His chuckle was riddled with far more discomfort than mirth. “Something tells me the next few weeks are going to be the longest of my life.”
Hers, too.
“What next, counselor?” he asked.
Cool, calm and right back to business. He had no idea what an aphrodisiac his continued restraint had become to her. Or how tempted she was to test the limits of that restraint.
“I’ve known all along that the real key to getting Connie acquitted is selecting the right jury,” she said, forcing herself to focus on the case. “That’s what we have to put our efforts on now. Tell me what I can do to help you check out the information the prospective jurors put on their questionnaires.”
“Do you really have the time to assist?”
“I’ll make the time. And if it requires computer searches, Mel can also lend a hand. She’s a whiz on the Internet.”
“What about her schoolwork?”
“Very light this summer, and she will grab at any excuse to avoid thinking about her role in the upcoming play.”
“Okay, pick her up and meet me in my office with your computers. You’re about to learn how to find out most anything about anyone.”
“I’
VE RUN
the prospective jurors through the Credit Bureau, Jack,” Mel said a few hours later. “There are twenty-seven with really bad credit histories. Some of them are already among the fifty-one names Mom put in the questionable file. Do you want me to cross-reference them?”
Jack glanced over at Mel sitting on the couch in his office, her computer comfortably positioned on her lap. Diana hadn’t overstated her daughter’s skills.
“Cross-referencing is a good idea,” he told her. “Print out the file when you’ve finished.”
Mel nodded.
“Three have criminal records,” Diana said.
Jack scooted his chair next to her to read the information off her monitor. When she brought her laptop and set it on the other end of his desk, he accepted the fact that he
was going to be tortured all day by having her within reach—and so unreachable.
“Ralph Montgomery’s a surprise,” Jack said, pointing to the record on the seventy-year-old widower who’d said he’d like to be Jack’s soap character.
Ralph lived in an area the advertisers had dubbed,
Older Eclectic Intelligentsia.
As the advertisers predicted, Ralph subscribed to the
Christian Science Monitor, The Smithsonian
and drove a vintage Jaguar. His favorite books were mysteries, his favorite TV shows were
Jeopardy
and Boston Pops specials, and if he won a million dollars he’d donate it all to the local animal shelter.
Jack read over Diana’s shoulder. “He yanked a rifle out of a hunter’s hand and broke it over the guy’s back. Seems the hunter was trying to shoot a doe and its fawn on Ralph’s property two springs ago. Ralph pled guilty to assault. Was fined and given a six-month suspended sentence.”
“I’m getting to like Ralph more by the minute,” Diana said.
“Doesn’t bother you that he answered ‘no’ to the question asking if he’d ever been convicted of a felony?” Jack asked.
“I doubt Ralph considered what he’d done a crime. And from a moral standpoint, I’m on his side. But this guy has me worried.”
Jack followed Diana’s pointing finger. “A DUI two years ago he didn’t own up to? I see what you mean. He’s going to identify with Bruce. And he also lists himself as a strong leader, which probably means he’s a loudmouth.”
“I’m adding him to the list we want excused, as well as this one,” Diana said as she picked up another questionnaire. “This woman has a drug selling conviction from eight years ago she conveniently forgot to mention.”
“How are you going to weed out the ones you don’t want?”
“Those I catch in a lie I can get excused by the Court for cause. In addition, I have twelve peremptory challenges, which means I can get a prospective juror excused without giving a reason.”
“With a hundred and fifty prospective jurors, twelve peremptory challenges don’t seem like a lot.”
“Which is why I have to maneuver Staker into using his peremptory challenges to excuse the others that I don’t want sitting on the jury.”
“Care to share how you’re going to do that?”
“Give me a sec.” Diana sifted through the stack of returned questionnaires until she found the one she’d been looking for. “Take this prospective juror. She’s twenty-eight, collecting unemployment, doesn’t read, her favorite TV shows are cartoons, and if she won a million dollars, she’d have her boobs and butt done.”
“Not a lot of wattage in that light bulb,” Jack agreed. “Staker’s going to love her.”
“But four years ago, she was a teacher’s aide in a kindergarten. When I question her in
voir dire,
I’m going to ask her lots of questions about that job. And Staker’s going to excuse her because those questions are going to make him worry about the possibility that she’ll identify with Connie.”
Jack smiled. “I’m glad you’re on our team.”
Despite her attempt to be cool, he knew she wasn’t immune to his compliment.
In the quiet moments when she wasn’t looking, he studied her, like a lovely piece of art he wanted to know very well. He could read every small lift to her lip now, every nuance in her most casual glance.
“Even with all this information, a lot will depend on luck,” Diana admitted. “The court clerk draws the first
sixteen names from the prospective hundred and fifty when
voir dire
begins. Those sixteen people will be the twelve regular jurors and four alternates unless they are excused for some reason.”
“What you’re saying is that if the clerk draws the names of people who we feel will be good jurors, they’ll be less work to do. If she draws mostly losers in the first batch, then your job will get a lot tougher.”
“In the proverbial nutshell.”
“Any other way to get an inappropriate juror excused?” Jack asked.
“Maneuver them into admitting in court that they can’t be fair. Unfortunately, the ones I’ll want to remove can’t—or won’t—admit they’re predisposed to be unfair. Some people love the sense of power that comes with judging others and deciding their fate.”
Yes, Jack had met a lot of those people. “We’ve only begun on the background checks available through the Internet organizations our firm belongs to,” he said. “We still have professional license, education, military and employment verification, plus a dozen others before we get down to the footwork.”
“I’m finished,” Mel said. “What would you like me to do next?”
Jack looked at her bright, eager face. He could get to like this kid. She’d been at it for hours and not one complaint.
“Go back to the menu options and check the home and business phone numbers the prospective jurors have given us, Mel. See what name those numbers are actually listed under.”
She nodded as her fingers started to fly over the keyboard.
Jack shook his head as he turned back to Diana. “I feel like I’m violating the child labor laws.”
“When they come to arrest you just remember to invoke your right to remain silent,” Diana said. “With a good attorney, you won’t get more than five, six years.”
Her smile was full of fun. And to think he once thought she was lacking a sense of humor. Seemed like a century ago.
“What do you want me to do next?” she asked.
He was very tempted to tell her. Damn good thing she’d brought Mel along. Maybe that’s
why
she’d brought Mel along.
D
IANA EAGERLY READ
the accident reconstruction report from Jack’s insurance company contact. Several days had passed since Jared had told Jack he’d have to tell the sheriff about his investigation. Yet, Staker had not notified her about the new development in his case against Connie.
The law required him to disclose such information. Clearly, he was stalling. Was he afraid that since Connie had such a very good reason to kill Bruce the jury might sympathize with her? Or was he waiting to spring the information on her right before they went to trial?
Shuffling her speculations aside, she reminded herself that the important thing was she already knew. Whatever games Staker played, she’d be prepared. In the meantime, two very good investigators were working to find the woman who had been with Bruce in the E.R. Even if Jared was unsuccessful, Diana had full confidence in Jack.
Strange, that. Jared was the trained sheriff’s detective with all the power of his department behind him. But it was Jack she counted on to come through. The more she was with him, the more she was certain that he was everything he presented himself to be.
And even when she wasn’t with him, he was constantly in her thoughts—interfering with her concentration. With a discipline that became more difficult to rely on with each
passing day, she refocused her attention to the accident reconstruction report.
In addition to an overall summary, several diagrams had been drawn of the scene of Bruce’s death from the different viewpoints of the two eyewitnesses—Lyle Weaton and Edith Lewandowski.
From the position of Bruce’s body and the vehicle, the preparer’s conclusion was that Connie’s car had hit Bruce at an angle, showing she had tried to avoid hitting him. And in order for Connie to have come to a stop so quickly, the report also concluded that she had been braking at the time she hit Bruce. Neither of those points had been mentioned by the investigating officers.
Diana was impressed with the credentials of the man who’d prepared the report. He’d worked on the accident reconstruction team for the Las Vegas police department for fifteen years before moving to the Pacific Northwest and joining a local insurance company’s staff. Staker was going to have a very hard time disputing the man’s conclusions or impugning his ability to make them.
A knock sounded on the door. Diana called for whoever it was to come in. Gail poked her head inside.
“Hey, stranger.”
“You’re back!” Diana said, smiling as she slipped the accident report into a folder. She went to her friend and gave her a hug, only too aware of the recent emotional wear on Gail’s face.
“Yeah, I know I look like hell, Diana, but I’m okay. Thanks for the flowers and the card. Can you spare some time to talk?”
“Of course. Sit down.”
Gail did.
“You were the one in the family who was closest to your mom, weren’t you?” Diana asked as she retook her seat.
Gail nodded. “My brothers and sister were always too busy with their families to spare much time for Mom. Last time I saw her, she asked me when I was going to start a family. I laughed and reminded her that she had nine grandkids, but only one devoted daughter. You know what she said?”
Diana shook her head.
“She said I needed to have a daughter because that’s the only way I’d understand how special I made her feel.”
A tear trickled out of Gail’s eye. Passing a tissue to her, Diana kept one for herself.
“I’m going to have a baby.”
Gail’s shocking words pulled Diana straight up in her chair. The unbidden figure of a chubby, two-foot-high Staker look-alike with a thin black mustache running around the courthouse in a sagging diaper flashed through her brain. She desperately wiped the appalling image from her mind’s eye.
“You’re pregnant?” Diana asked with a voice somewhere in the stratosphere.
Gail shook her head. “No, but I’m going to be.” She paused to let out a long, heavy exhale. “I can’t believe I said that. Thirty-seven years old and not once in all that time did I ever even consider marrying, much less having a baby. My career and my freedom have always meant too much to me. But now…”