State's Evidence: A Beverly Mendoza Legal Thriller (31 page)

“Don’t be a fool!” Stone blared, while hoping
this thing could end without bloodshed. “There is no way out of
this for you, Manuel. It’s all over. Now move the knife away from
the lady’s throat and you won’t be harmed—”

With his gun drawn, Stone inched closer to
the murder suspect and his captive. It took a moment before he
realized that the woman was none other than Wilameta County
Assistant D.A. Beverly Mendoza. How the hell had she ended up in
Gonzalez’s grasp?

“Let her go, Manuel,” Stone said nicely,
noting the groceries littering the parking lot and the A.D.A.’s
purse on the pavement. “No one else has to die...including
you.”

Beverly could sense that her captor was
weighing his options. Should he kill her—or try to—and almost
certainly be killed? Should he kill himself?

Or did he realize that it was a battle he
could no longer win, even in death, and do the smart thing by
surrendering?

“I’m not worth dying for,” Beverly coaxed.
“And there’s no reason for your life to end either. Please, just
let me go—” The blade continued to tickle her throat. Only it was
hardly a laughing matter.

“Can’t go back to prison,” Manuel muttered
audaciously.

So he had been in prison.
Why doesn’t that
surprise me?
What crime or crimes had he committed?

She found herself wondering if he knew Rafael
Santiago.

“They will kill us
both
if they have
to,” insisted Beverly, feeling his resolve was weakening. “You’re
worth more to them dead than I am alive. If you give them an
excuse, they’ll take you out and not give it a second thought if
there is some collateral damage along the way.”

She didn’t believe that for a moment. But
Beverly wanted him to. In her experience even the most depraved
criminals still had an inherent instinct for survival. When this
was threatened they almost always reacted predictably.

Manuel moved the knife away from Beverly’s
neck, seeming to indicate his surrender. Beverly’s jubilation was
short lived, however, as he seemed to have second thoughts. She saw
the switchblade once again moving in her direction. But she would
not give him the chance to put her at death’s door once more.

Without her gun, mace, or even keys to use as
weapons, Beverly counted on the element of surprise to catch her
would-be kidnapper off guard. Using the heel of her mules, she
jammed it as hard as she could into his leg just above the
ankle.

Manuel howled like a wolf in pain, releasing
his grip on her and the knife simultaneously, while hopping on his
one good leg.

Beverly turned around and got her first up
close look at her attacker’s contorted face. She saw
Rafael
Santiago
staring back at her in anguish. Yet she knew,
incredibly, that it wasn’t him. Only a cruel hoax. Or was it
somehow by design?

Before Manuel could begin to recover, Beverly
immediately broke towards the store. She looked back as the
authorities pounced on her assailant, throwing him to the ground
and handcuffing.

Her nightmare was over. Whereas his had only
just begun.

* * *

Beverly was still shaking and trying to catch
her breath when she felt a solid hand on her shoulder, causing her
to jerk around.

It was Detective Palmer. A look of concern
was on his handsome face. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she stammered, running fingers through
her mussed hair. “I think so.”

“Assistant D.A. Beverly Mendoza, right?”
Stone’s eyes twinkled at her.

“Yes.” Beverly smiled while holding back
tears of what might have been. “I don’t think I ever thanked you
for testifying at the Suzanne Landon trial.”

He grinned. “You did by winning it and
getting another killer off the streets.”

She tilted her head to one side, grateful
nonetheless. “You also sent the writer to me,” she remembered.

Stone was stumped for a moment before it came
to him. His eyes grew. “Ah, yes! Ms. Wesley. Persistent lady. Hope
she didn’t give you headaches?”

“Not half as much as him.” Beverly gazed at
Manuel Gonzalez who was being placed in the back of a squad
car.

Stone frowned. “Sorry you had to cross paths
with that asshole. But if there’s a silver lining, it could have
been worse. Gonzalez was wanted in connection with three murders
and at least one sexual assault.”

Beverly put her hands to her mouth aghast.
Her shock was not just that she had been lined up to become the
next victim of this creep, but that he was suspected of committing
crimes similar to those perpetrated by Rafael Santiago. Was this
another coincidence? Or, if these two were related, did bad seeds
grow in the family?

Stone could see that this had unnerved the
attorney, and rightfully so. He tried to soften the blow. “Why
don’t you let me help you gather those groceries?”

Beverly nodded, having practically forgotten
why she was there in the first place. She followed the detective
back to her car and immediately lifted her purse, with all the
contents apparently still inside.

She watched as Stone put her groceries back
in the bag. “So how long have you been looking for Manuel
Gonzalez?” She’d barely kept track of anything recently aside from
the case she was working on.

“More than a month now,” Stone answered,
“though we only identified the suspect recently.”

Beverly noted that it was more than a month
ago when Rafael Santiago had perpetrated his heinous deeds. There
had been no indication that he’d committed any other crimes other
than those against the Crawfords. So why did her instincts tell her
that he might have been in cahoots with Manuel Gonzalez?

Maybe I see a mirror image of one in the
other and I’m looking for a connection that simply isn’t there
other than the fact that they’re both brutal killers.

She smiled at the detective who had bagged
all her spilled groceries. “I’m glad you caught the man.”

“So am I. That’s one less criminal to have to
deal with outside the courtroom.”

“And one more for us prosecutors to try to
win a conviction.”

Stone smiled and looked at the bag. “If you
want to pop the trunk, I’ll put this right in.”

Beverly took out her car keys and used the
remote to unlock it. “Be my guest.”

“By the way, we have a little more in common
than Suzanne Landon and Manuel Gonzalez.” Stone met Beverly’s gaze.
“My son Paco is good friends with your son Jaime.”

Beverly raised a brow. “Paco’s your son? I
knew his Dad was a cop and I’ve actually spoken to your wife on the
phone, but I never made the connection.”

Stone smiled. “To be honest, I hadn’t either
till very recently when Paco was gushing about going to a judge’s
chambers with Jaime and his lawyer Mom.”

Beverly blushed. “Small world.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

Maybe it wasn’t quite as small as either of
them thought.

“Perhaps after the holidays we can all get
together for dinner or something.”

“I’d like that,” Stone said.

“Right now, I’d better get going. My son and
father are expecting a big Thanksgiving Day feast. And Manuel
Gonzalez aside, I’m not about to disappoint them—”

Stone grinned knowingly. “Yeah, I’m in the
exact same boat. Only as the chef, the meal will still have to go
through me. That is, assuming my wife lets me back in the kitchen,
after I was forced to make a slight detour in the name of
justice.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

When she got home, Beverly was exhausted and
unsettled, but thankful to be alive. In spite of her ordeal, she
saw no reason why they should not be able to enjoy their
Thanksgiving meal.

Grant’s car was parked in the driveway. He
had volunteered to pick up her father from the nursing home, while
she busied herself with the meal. Beverly hoped Grant hadn’t found
himself overwhelmed in trying to baby-sit her father and son.

Before Beverly could get to the front door,
it was opened and Grant stepped out. “We were wondering if you’d
gotten lost,” he joked. “We actually considered starting
Thanksgiving dinner without you—”

He stopped himself short and furrowed his
brow as she stepped into the light coming from the foyer. Only then
did Beverly become consciously aware of her somewhat disheveled
appearance. She had tried to make herself look presentable as best
as possible, but found she was too upset to care.

“What the hell happened to you?” Grant put
his hand under her chin, which had been slightly nicked by the
knife and drawn blood that had dried.

“Where are Papa and Jaime?” she asked first,
not wanting them to hear or see her like that.

“They’re in the den watching TV.”

“Good,” Beverly said. After sucking in a deep
breath, she managed, “I was almost kidnapped—”

* * *

Beverly explained every frightening detail of
her encounter with Manuel Gonzalez to Grant in the privacy of her
bedroom, including being rescued by Stone Palmer and the Sheriff’s
Department brigade.

“Good heavens!” Grant exclaimed, incredulity
creasing his face in several places. “That bastard could have—”

“But he didn’t,” Beverly reminded him even as
her pulse boiled at the prospect. “The police were after Gonzalez.
They think he killed at least three other women. Thankfully the
stolen car he was driving was spotted in the store parking
lot.”

Grant was sure his blood pressure had risen
after hearing that his girlfriend had nearly become a murder
victim. He was familiar with the police investigation into
Gonzalez, suspected of stabbing to death his girlfriend and two
other women. But from what he understood, the victims were all
living in his vicinity. But that didn’t mean the killer couldn’t
have broadened his range and targets.

“Why’d the bastard choose you to go after
you?” Grant asked, as if Gonzalez needed a reason.

It was something Beverly had asked herself
more than once. She had no answer, except for maybe pure chance and
being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Even then she suspected that the question
from Grant was really more rhetorical, since he knew it could just
as easily have been any female Gonzalez happened to run into by
accident or design.

“He’s the same man I saw at Burger King,
Grant.” Beverly felt dirty in her clothes and wanted to take a
shower. “Gonzalez admitted that he had followed us home that night
and broke into the house.”

Grant’s gaze betrayed feelings of anger and
regret.

Beverly broke down, as her emotions came to
the surface. “I never felt so helpless as when he had the knife to
my throat and wanted to take me somewhere. All I could think of was
never seeing Jaime again. Or you—”

“It’s all right, babe,” said Grant, doing his
best to comfort her and still his own ire threatening to boil over.
I should have been there to protect her from that asshole.
“The son of a bitch is never going to get the chance to ever hurt
you again.” Not if Manuel Gonzalez wound up in his courtroom.

“He’s like the spitting image of Santiago,”
Beverly told him. “Grant, the two could be twin brothers—if
Santiago had a brother!”

Grant used the back of his fingers to gently
wipe the tears staining her cheeks. “Doesn’t matter whether they’re
kin or not,” he stated firmly. “The full weight of the law will be
brought down on both of them so they get everything they
deserve.”

Beverly sniffed and gazed up into his eyes.
He had been every bit as strong and supportive as she had imagined.
She was happy that he was there for her when she needed him
most.

“I have everything I deserve,” she said
softly, “in you.”

Grant relaxed his jaw, kissing her. “We’ll
see about that. Right now, I suggest you take a quick shower,
change clothes, and get back out there and feed your family.
Otherwise they may stage a mutiny.”

Beverly laughed. “You’re right.” It was time
to get back to the true spirit of Thanksgiving.

* * *

The meal was served in the dining room and
everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Beverly noted that even
her father seemed almost like his old self, joking and laughing.
But inevitably he would become disoriented and not know where he
was or who they were.

“Why can’t Maria be here?” Alberto asked, his
craggy face dreary.

“Grandma is in heaven, Grandpa,” Jaime said
sympathetically, stuffing a buttered roll in his mouth.

“Heaven?” Alberto put his finger to his
mouth, as if wondering where exactly that was.

“It’s a place where all the angels gather,”
Beverly told him. “A place where you’ll be someday, Papa.”

“You think so?”

“Count on it,” declared Grant, forking a
tender piece of roast beef. “And it’s a place where Beverly and
Jaime will also be one day. Isn’t that right, Jaime?”

Jaime chuckled. “Yeah, but if it’s all the
same to you, Your Honor, I’d rather stay here amongst the
earthlings for a bit.”

Grant laughed. “Oh, don’t worry,” he said.
“Something tells me you still have quite a few of these delicious
meals left to enjoy.” He scooped up some candied yams. “Frankly,
I’m with you, Jaime. Let’s see if we can bribe Beverly into hanging
around a lot more years herself, if only for her cooking.”

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Jaime laughed
boisterously.

Grant followed suit. Even Alberto joined in,
prompting Beverly to burst into laughter also. She couldn’t help
but think that this was about as good as it got: sharing a
Thanksgiving Day meal and joy with her family. That included Grant,
who had shown that he wanted to be part of the world she had
created for herself. And she wanted him there every bit as
much.

She savored the thought of there being
permanency to what they had about as much as Beverly abhorred the
thought of what could have turned out to be a disastrous
Thanksgiving. She had the feeling that an angel was on her
shoulder, protecting her from evil men like Manuel Gonzalez and
Rafael Santiago. It was up to prosecutors like her to do their part
in putting these men away. Or live with the consequences.