Chapter 52


YUKI AND HER associate, Nicky Gaines, returned from the lunch recess a few minutes before court reconvened and took their seats.

Yuki had rested her case, and now it was the defense’s turn to present theirs. She hoped like mad that her case was strong enough to hold up no matter what Kinsela said to convince the jury that Keith Herman, a subhuman piece of garbage, was not guilty.

Yuki thought about Patricia Reeves, a woman who was tried for the murder of her two-year-old daughter. Reeves’s lawyer had stated that his client had been sexually abused by her father and that the father had been complicit in covering up the child’s accidental death.

In Yuki’s opinion, the defendant had lied, the lawyer had lied, too, and Patricia Reeves had gotten away with murder.

Like Reeves’s attorney, Kinsela was a master of the ad hominem attack. He’d assaulted Lynnette Lagrande’s character to discredit her. And he would certainly come up with a load of random bullcrap in his client’s defense.

Thinking over Kinsela’s case, looking for holes in her own, Yuki didn’t see any quicksand.

Come to think of it, she also didn’t see the defense.

Yuki poked Gaines with her elbow and angled her chin toward the defense table. No one was there; not the lawyers, not Keith Herman. Where were they?

Just then, Judge Arthur R. Nussbaum came through his private door and the bailiff called the court to order. Nussbaum saw the void at the defense table, called the bailiff over to the bench, leaned down, and whispered loud enough for Yuki to hear, “Have the clerk call Kinsela. Find out where the hell he is.”

Worst-case scenarios were now rising in Yuki’s mind. Had Keith Herman escaped from jail? Had he hanged himself? Had her wish that John Kinsela would eat shit and die actually come true?

The judge apologized to the jury for the delay, saying, “If the defense and the defendant aren’t here in five minutes, I’m going to adjourn court for the day.” Then he muttered, “And there will be hell to pay.”

Five minutes passed. Very. Very. Slowly.

The bailiff returned to the bench and had another whispered conversation with the judge, which was interrupted by a young lawyer in a severe charcoal-gray suit and high heels coming up the aisle in a great clacking hurry.

“Your Honor, I’m Linda Gregory from Mr. Kinsela’s office.”

“What’s going on, Ms. Gregory?”

“May I approach?”

As the attorney came toward the judge, the doors at the end of the aisle opened again. Nicky said to Yuki, “Lookit this, will you?”

Yuki turned and saw Keith Herman, handcuffed and flanked by two armed guards, walking toward the bar. He was smiling as if he’d just gotten a free pass to the good seats in heaven.

A woman in the gallery said loudly, “Oh, my God.”

Two more people had come through the double doors; John Kinsela was holding the hand of a cute little girl with honey-blond hair. The child was about eight, wearing jeans, a floral print shirt, and a pink hoodie. She looked neat and clean.

Yuki’s heartbeat sped over the legal limit. She recognized that little girl. From the rustle and gasps in the gallery, everyone did. This child’s picture had been on the news and had circumnavigated the Internet a million times since she’d gone missing.

Kinsela stopped in the aisle beside his table and said to the judge, “I apologize for being late, Your Honor, but I received an urgent call just an hour ago. Then I needed my client to confirm this little girl’s identity.”

“Explain yourself, Mr. Kinsela.”

“Judge, I’d like to introduce you to my client’s daughter, Lily Herman. She was found alive and well, sitting on the front steps of her former home.

“We respectfully request that you dismiss the charges against Mr. Herman.”

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