Blood Defense

TWENTY-FOUR

When I got to the courthouse, Edie was already out front with her cameraman.

“Samantha, thank you so much for giving me the story. I’m dying of suspense. Michelle wouldn’t say what it’s about.”

I smiled. “Ready?” She nodded. “Dale Pearson is my biological father.”

Her jaw dropped. “Your what?” I nodded. Edie immediately turned to her cameraman. “Roll it. Let’s go!” She let me make the announcement, then asked, “So you knew when you took the case, right? I assume your mother must have told you.”

That was exactly what I figured people would think: that I took the case because I felt sorry for my guilty, estranged father. Or that Dale had hired me because he knew I was his daughter. So I had my story ready. “Actually, no. My mother doesn’t follow this kind of news much, and she never suspected that Dale might be the fling she had in college. And Dale and I didn’t figure it out until after he hired me and I started reviewing his background.” Edie asked about my mother and Dale, how they’d met and how long they were together. “Didn’t Dale know he had a daughter somewhere?”

The question played right into my hands. I needed to make it clear that Dale never knew about me so people wouldn’t think he was a deadbeat asshole who’d abandoned a pregnant girlfriend and her baby. “Dale never knew about me. By the time my mother found out she was pregnant, they’d broken up.” I had to push down the gag reflex to add, “She didn’t think it’d be right to obligate him to take care of a baby they’d never planned to have.”

It was total bullshit, but I had to make Celeste sound noble so she’d go along with my story. When we finished, Edie thanked me with shining eyes. “Thank you, Samantha. I really owe you one. This is going to be huge. So just for your sake, a word of warning: if you don’t want to spend the next week giving interviews, you’d better lay low.”

“That’s the plan.” And we both knew that piece of advice wasn’t just for my sake. By telling Edie I didn’t intend to talk to anyone else, I’d just given her an exclusive. Now everyone would have to credit her and piggyback on her footage. “I have news about the case, too.”

She turned to the cameraman. “Are you still rolling?” He said he was. She turned back to me and raised her microphone again. “Do you have some new development on the case?”

Time to make use of Chas. “I have evidence that someone else came to Chloe and Paige’s apartment late that night.”

Edie’s eyes widened. “Can you tell us who that person is?”

“Not yet. But we will soon.”

“I assume your witness must be someone in the building. Who is it?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t give out that information just yet. But again, I will. Very soon.”

“Thank you!” She turned to the camera. “For those who just tuned in, that was Samantha Brinkman, the attorney who’s representing accused murderer Dale Pearson, with some incredible news.”

Edie took another few seconds to wrap up, then grabbed my hand. “Thank you for this. And congratulations on finding your father. That’s fantastic!”

“Thanks.” I turned to go.

“Just tell me off the record, who’s the new witness? I promise not to tell.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. Not yet.”

“Okay, just promise you’ll let me be the first to know when you go public with it.”

I didn’t want to commit, so I just smiled and trotted away. I had only a limited number of party favors to pass around, and I needed more than one reporter in my corner. Plus, I didn’t want anyone finding out that my new, secret star witness was a loadie who’d probably dreamed the whole thing.

I headed out to meet Alex at the Warner Bros. studio lot in Burbank. The plan was to see if someone on Chloe’s show could give us a lead on who’d been her dealer. But no such luck. I couldn’t tell whether they really didn’t know or just weren’t inclined to tell me. Either way, that line of inquiry was a bust.

The one thing everyone did seem to know was that Dale was my father. Edie’s piece had already aired as “Breaking News!” and apparently, it’d gone viral. Every single person I talked to stared at me like I was a circus freak and “just had to ask” what it was like to have a murder suspect for a father, and did I “think he did it?” It didn’t take long for me to get sick and tired of it, and by the third interview, I snapped and said, “Yeah, he did it. And I hear it runs in the family.” The witness’s eyes got big and round. I sighed. “No, I don’t think he did it.” Alex suggested that from now on, I stick with a simple “No comment” and let Michy handle the press calls for a while.

But I did find out that Chloe might’ve been seeing one of the young writers, Geoffrey Brocklin. No one knew how serious it’d been, but they’d spent a fair amount of time together on the lot. He might’ve had an idea who was selling to Chloe, but he wasn’t around. He was off writing a script. We’d have to track him down when he came back.

And I showed everyone photographs of the jewelry that’d been stolen in the burglary. No one had ever seen Chloe wearing anything that pricey. Alex and Michelle had checked out every photo they could find of Chloe-at press parties, A-list parties, and wrap parties. She wasn’t wearing the jewelry in any of them.

Alex shook his head. “I don’t get it. Why have jewelry like that if you’re not going to wear it?”

I’d been thinking about that for a while. “I have a hunch that jewelry didn’t belong to Chloe.”

“Then why’d she report it as hers?”

“To cover for someone else. Like her roomie, Paige. And Paige didn’t want to report it because it was a secret gift.”

We got to Alex’s car. He stopped and looked at me over the hood. “From Mr. Perfect?”

I nodded. “That’s my theory. And if I’m right, it’s just more proof that he’s got to be married.” And a married lover opens up a rich vein for all kinds of possible fall guys I can toss into the mix: the man himself, his wife, maybe even adult children. Any one of them could lose it with the “home wrecker.” I told him, “Let’s move on Paige. I want to try and figure out who Mr. Perfect is.”

Alex headed out of the lot. “Don’t you want to see Chloe’s sister? She could probably tell us if Chloe was using on a regular basis.”

“But she won’t. Families aren’t exactly delighted to see us, Alex. Especially when we’re looking for information that makes the victim look bad.”

“Even if the cops might have the wrong guy?”

“They never think that. They’ll think we’re just trying to get our client off. Which we are.” And that’s why I almost never talk to the family of the victim. There’s no point. “Besides, we don’t have time to waste on long shots. The preliminary hearing is next week, and I have to find a zinger that’ll get people to start doubting the prosecution’s case.”

“So where am I going?”

“Beverly Hills.” Alex had plumbed Paige’s social media, but she hadn’t been a big “sharer.” All he found for the past year were a few photos from a trip she took to Napa Valley with Chloe and her sister, Kaitlyn; a group photo with other waitresses at Majesty; and a couple of photos with fellow models. No personal postings about her life or anyone in it. Paige was smart to play it close to the vest. As many have learned the hard way, there are too many jerks out there who’ll abuse the access to all that information.

But it left us with relatively few threads to pull: her modeling buddies, the other waiters at Majesty, and her mother. I didn’t think the latter could help us even if she’d wanted to. I doubted Paige would confide in her mother about a relationship with a married man. That basically left us with her coworkers.

I called Michelle and asked her to get us permission to talk to the waitstaff at Majesty. She called back ten minutes later. “The manager’s a real piece of work. But I got him to give you a few minutes to-and I quote-‘see if anyone is willing to talk to you.’ And the story about you and Dale went nuclear. Listen to this.” The sound of phones ringing nonstop came through. “It’s been like that all day. By the way, did you really tell someone all your relatives are murder suspects?”

“Shit. Yeah. I kind of lost it. Tell ’em that was a joke.” I got the address of the restaurant and the manager’s name and told Michelle I’d check in after we got kicked to the curb.