Blood Defense

THIRTY-FIVE

When we got back to the office, Michelle greeted us with an announcement. “The grand jury just handed down a true bill. Dale’s been indicted.”

I just nodded. It was a measure of how shitty things were that this almost qualified as good news. At this point, any news that didn’t include yet another dead woman in Dale’s life was cause for celebration.

“And I actually got somewhere on Marc Palmer-the guy who did some modeling gigs with Paige. He was pretty active on Facebook, and his friends are still posting on his page. I got some background.” Michelle read from her monitor. “He moved out to LA from Blencoe, Iowa, three years ago, but he just started modeling last year. Seems like he met Paige at his first modeling gig.”

“Did you find any articles about his death? Any indication how he wound up in Malibu?”

Michelle shook her head. “It was just a local news story. The coroner couldn’t be sure how long he’d been in the water. Said it was more than a day, maybe as long as ten days. There were signs of blunt-force trauma, but that might’ve happened after he fell into the water.”

“Any information on whether he was drinking or drugging?”

“Both. He had a.13 blood alcohol level and a pretty high level of cocaine. Plus, he was nude. It sounds to me like he was partying on the beach and went for a swim, or maybe fell off a boat.”

“But no one reported it.”

“Maybe because everyone else was high, too, and didn’t notice he was gone until it was too late,” Alex said. “And then they were afraid to get involved.”

That sounded sadly plausible. “When did they find his body?”

Michelle looked back at her monitor. “March fifteenth.”

“Six days after Paige died,” Alex said.

What had been just a vague notion now seemed to be solidifying into a real possibility. I might actually be able to sell a connection between Marc’s and Paige’s deaths. “I want to talk to Marc’s buddies. Michy, do you have enough there to track them down?”

“Sure, if they’re in the mood to cooperate. If not… all I have are Facebook handles.”

Alex smiled. “I can probably work with that.”

I put my hands on my hips. “You’re on probation, remember? I can’t afford to lose you.”

“They’ll never catch me.”

I didn’t like the idea of him taking any risks, but I knew he was that good. And besides, we needed to see where this led. “Okay. But if anyone bitches about how you got their number, have a good cover story ready.”

Alex put his hands on his hips. “Please. I started social engineering when I was eleven.”

Of course he had. “Okay, but keep it tight. It’s not about Marc per se. It’s about Marc’s connection to Paige. So we only want people who knew Paige.”

Michelle stood up and rolled her shoulders. “How’d you guys do today?”

I didn’t feel like talking about Dale, so I just told her about Geoffrey and Jaylene. When I threw out the possibility that Jaylene might be the killer, Michelle raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying a woman stabbed both of them?”

“I know,” Alex said. “Believe me, I didn’t buy it either at first. But let me tell you, that woman is pretty strong-and kind of crazy. And it wouldn’t have been that hard. Whoever did this probably got the jump on both of them.”

I nodded. “And a knife doesn’t make noise. Plus, Paige was probably in the shower when Chloe got stabbed.”

Michelle shrugged. “I guess… I just never thought… it always felt like a man to me.”

I couldn’t disagree. “To me, too. And Jaylene might be a tough sell, but no one’s going to buy Geoffrey.”

Alex nodded. “That guy really liked her.” He stood up. “I’m going to get to work on Dale’s alibi for the Jenny Knox murder.”

“And let me know the minute you have something solid. Amanda Trace is going to go batshit with that story.”

Amanda Trace, cable news’s most nasty pit bull of a host, existed to shred anyone accused of a crime. No evidence? No problem. She’d stitch together rumors, innuendo, and irrelevant garbage; slap some graphics on the screen; and spit and snarl her way through the story. She’d been teeing off on Dale all along, but now, with Jenny’s death, Amanda’s fangs would be dripping blood.

Alex moved toward the door. “I think I can get most of them to see me tonight. You want to come?”

I shook my head. “You can handle them alone.” These cops were friendly witnesses. Alex didn’t need backup. “If Dale’s actually got an alibi, I want to be able to tell the press tomorrow. Report back to me tonight; I don’t care how late it is.”

“You got it.” Alex headed out and I went to my office.

I worked on a few other cases, then went through all the autopsy and crime reports on Dale’s case-or rather, cases-with an eye toward what I could say to the press tomorrow. I had to do more than give the usual “Dale’s innocent” line. I had to make people think we really had something cooking. No names. I never mention any names till the very last second. The less time I give the prosecution to dig into my witnesses, the better.

Michelle wanted to wait with me, but when we still hadn’t heard from Alex at eight thirty, I sent her home. There was no sense in all of us getting thrashed. It was almost ten o’clock by the time Alex got back. I gestured for him to have a seat. “Just tell me, are we hosed?”

He blew out a long breath and plopped down sideways, his legs hanging over the arm of the chair. “I don’t think we’re golden, but we’re definitely not hosed. Dale owes Ignacio Silva a great big kiss and a hug.” He opened his iPad and scanned his notes. “Ignacio says he and Dale were at Hoops the night Jenny was killed.” Alex swiped a finger across the screen of his iPad. “That’s a sports bar in Culver City. They got there at ten p.m. and closed the place down. Ignacio was driving. He dropped Dale at home at about three a.m.”

And Dale lived in Porter Ranch. There was no way he could’ve gotten from there to Hollywood in time to do the murder. “So far, so good. How come Ignacio remembers all this more than a year later?”

“Because there was a big basketball game, and this coach”-he looked down at his iPad-“Shawn Haley, got into a fight with the referee. Chest-bumped him. Got fined more than a quarter of a million dollars.” Alex looked up at me. “Chest-bumped? Seriously? Why not just slug the guy?”

“Because that would’ve cost him two million.”

Alex shook his head. “Whatever. Anyway, Ignacio said Patrick, the bartender, would back him up, so I went to see him. That’s what took me so long.” Alex paused.

“Did he?”

“Sort of. He didn’t specifically remember that night, but he said it might be true. Dale and Ignacio-and a bunch of other cops-were regulars.”

Hardly a slam dunk. “So it’s a cop bar.” Alex nodded. I supposed it was better than nothing… but just barely. “What did you think of Ignacio?”

“He’s good, a little tightly wound-”

“As in, if he gets pushed he’s going to push back?”

“Yeah. When I nudged him on the details, he got a little… edgy with me.”

If Ignacio was “edgy” with Alex, who was on his side, I didn’t like his chances of keeping it together with Zack on cross-or with the press. I’d need to keep both him and the bartender under wraps. But that required them to cooperate and keep a low profile. I wasn’t worried about Ignacio; he’d do what was best for Dale. But Patrick was an unknown.

Some witnesses will trample their crippled grandmothers to get on camera; others would rather shove hot pokers in their eyes. “Does Patrick seem like the type to want his fifteen minutes?”

“Definitely not. But just to be on the safe side, I told them both it’d be best to keep this quiet-”

“What reason did you give them?” I didn’t want Patrick telling anyone that we were trying to hide him-though we were.

“I told them it’d hurt their credibility if they talked to the press.”

I smiled at Alex. He was so good it was scary. “Perfect.”

“Actually, it was just the truth. The book said that in high-profile cases, it’s best to-”

I held up a hand. “Just take the credit, Alex.”

Alex gave me a triumphant smile. “But you’ve got to admit it was right, wasn’t it?”

“Even a clock that’s broken is right twice a day.”

“You’ve got to believe me, Sam. It’s a great book.” I stared at him. Alex sighed. “Fine. You know, what would really help is if I could dig up some other suspects for Jenny’s murder.”

“What about Bozo? That guy she ripped off for his oxy?”

Alex shook his head. “He’s too puny. And whiny. No one would buy him as a strangler. But I bet if I go back to her ’hood, I can find others. From what I’ve seen, that girl must’ve had a buttload of enemies. She ripped everyone off-”

“No. Let it go. I’ll take it from here.”