Blood Defense

THIRTY-SIX

The case was already hot, but the news of Jenny Knox’s murder had turned it into a blazing inferno. And that meant lots more loony-tune court gawkers. The tinfoil-hat brigade was drawn to these big cases like nerds to a Star Trek convention. Usually all they did was mill around outside the courthouse and shout and wave signs, but now that Amanda Trace had spent her entire show last night snarling about this “rapist, serial-killer cop” who was a “rabid dog that needs to be put down,” things were going to get scary.

So I was glad Xander was driving me. I didn’t want to have to make the long trek from the parking lot to the courthouse through those hordes.

But when we pulled up in front of the courthouse, I saw that I’d underestimated the mob scene. It was even crazier than I’d predicted. From the courthouse doors to the sidewalk, it was wall-to-wall bodies. People were waving signs that read: HANG THE KILLER COP and LAPD: MURDERERS’ ROW. Thanks, Amanda. There were a couple that more benignly read: JUSTICE FOR CHLOE AND PAIGE. But I only spotted one that I could even pretend to chalk up for our side-it had RUSH TO JUDGMENT in a circle with a line through it. Not exactly a ringing endorsement.

Xander circled around the car and opened the door for me. The moment I got out, someone in the crowd yelled, “That’s her! That’s the lawyer!” Heads began to turn toward me, then others joined in. “Yeah, look! That’s his lawyer!”

This could get very bad, very fast. I leaned toward Xander. “Do me a favor. Don’t take off till I get inside.”

He gave the crowd a wary look. “I’d walk you, but they’ll ticket me in five seconds if I leave the car.”

I started to move forward, but the crowd surged toward me. I backed up and started to reach for the handle of the car door when three sheriff’s deputies broke through and surrounded me.

They kept me inside the circle as we moved, but even so, I was worried that someone in that mob might throw something at me. But as I headed toward the courthouse doors, I saw that the only things in their hands were cameras. And they were pointing them at me. They wanted my picture? Then I noticed that some were waving pens and photos that’d been taken of me in court.

“Can I get your autograph?”

“Hey, Samantha, sign my picture?”

I couldn’t believe it. No knives, no rocks. I smiled and waved to them as the deputies herded me inside. It almost made me laugh. No one cared that I was the bad guy’s lawyer. I was famous.

Nearly broke, probably out of business after this case, but famous.

The courtroom was packed with reporters. Zack, looking slick in a black suit, his hair a little mussed and his tie loosened, smiled at me. I gave him a chin bob. Très cool. But it was good that we were getting along now. It’s one thing to have a blowout; it’s another to have an ongoing bitch fight. It gets old fast and makes both lawyers look like cranky two-year-olds.

The bailiff brought Dale out. I’d insisted on having him dressed in a suit and tie for this arraignment, and it really helped. He looked like a respectable businessman. This was the man I wanted the public to see. I went over to say hello, knowing the press would eat up the image of father and daughter together. Sure enough, the clicking of cameras followed me like a swarm of locusts. But Dale was watching the gallery as though he were searching for snipers. I had to make him stop.

“Dale, look at me.” He dragged his eyes away from the spectators. “Deep breath, calm mind. Pretend you’re at a seminar.”

“So you want me to fall asleep?”

“Good. Keep that thought. This will be over in a few minutes.” I was going to tell him about Ignacio, but I didn’t want him to smile. I’d wait till after the arraignment.

Judge Tollinberg took the bench with solid, heavy steps and gave the gallery a sour look. “I’ll call the case of People v. Pearson.”

I moved back to counsel table, and Zack and I stated our names for the record.

The judge read the charges, and Dale entered his plea of “Not guilty” in the strong, clear voice we’d rehearsed. We set the trial for forty-five days from now. The judge looked from me to Zack. “I’m assigning you to Judge Traynor for trial. Any objections?”

I’d never had a case with him, but I’d heard he was tough. If that was true, I wouldn’t get a lot of leeway. But I could do a lot worse than just “tough.”

We both accepted Judge Traynor. The whole thing took less than two minutes. But when it played on television sets across the country tonight, it’d be drumrolled as though Dale had just confessed in open court.

I went into the holding tank to talk to Dale. Since he was maximum security, he was alone in the cell. “You did great.”

He gave a weak smile. “You’re a great coach.” The smile faded. “I heard the DA say he was going to try and get Jenny’s murder admitted at the trial.”

“Yeah, but I have some law on my side. We’ve got a fighting chance to keep it out on legal grounds. And we may have enough evidence to clear you. Ignacio came through with an alibi.”

Dale’s face broke into a broad smile. “He did? That’s great. What’d he say?”

“You guys used to hang out at Hoops?”

“All the time.” He frowned. “But I don’t remember what was going on that night. Was there a big game?”

“Not exactly.” I told him what Ignacio said. “Ring a bell?”

His eyes shifted to the left for a moment, then he nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Will Patrick back him up?”

“He said you guys are regulars, so it might be true. But he can’t specifically remember.”

Dale’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s the best he can do?”

“For now. He might be more solid by the time we get to trial.” Witnesses could go either way. Some got better. Others faded like cheap prints. I gave Dale the rest of the updates. When I got to Jaylene Thomas, he shook his head.

“So Chloe’s source was on the show. I knew it.” He looked away, his expression sad and worn.

“What’s wrong?”

“I wanted Chloe to make it so badly. She had her problems, but deep down, she was a really good person-and so talented. But her mother just… ruined her.” Dale sighed. “From what Paige said, she was a real monster. Chloe never wanted to talk about her, though. Whenever I tried, she pushed me off.”

A sudden bolt of anger shot through me. “What’s there to say? It’s a short, ugly story. Once upon a time there was an evil friggin’ bitch of a mother who hated her daughter and treated her like shit. The end.”

Dale stared at me intently. “You really don’t like your mother, do you?”

The bailiff came over. “Time to wrap it up, Counselor. The bus is here.”

I nodded to him. “I’ll come by in the next day or so with an update.”

Dale nodded. “Okay. Take care.”

I headed for the elevator and thought about my sound bites. I was going to keep it short and punchy. When I got downstairs, I saw that the court-gawker crowd had dissipated, but the press was still there in full force. A sheriff’s deputy came over to me as I crossed the lobby.

He stepped to my side and said, “Just stick with me, okay?” I nodded. “Can I ask you not to talk to the press?”

“You can ask, but I have to do it. I promise I’ll make it quick.”

Edie was at the front of the crowd. She gave me a sympathetic look and spoke under her breath. “Do you even want to talk? I know this must be horrible for you.”

“Sure, I’ve got good news, actually.”

She blinked rapidly. “Oh. Okay.” She nodded to her cameraman, then turned to me and spoke into the microphone. “This is very dire news for the defense. Jenny Knox’s murder, and now the prosecution saying he’ll offer it into evidence. What are you planning to do about it?”

“Dale has an alibi for the night of Jenny Knox’s death. So that case should now be a nonissue. Dale joins me in hoping that Ms. Knox’s killer will be brought to justice very soon.”

A chorus immediately rose up.

“Who’s your alibi witness?”

“What’s the alibi?”

“Give us a name!”

I shook my head and gave my charming “I’m-so-sorry!” smile. “I can’t get into the details right now, but I promise you’ll hear about it very soon!”

I knew Zack would start calling the minute he heard my sound bite, but I’d tell him I wasn’t sure who I was going to put on the stand yet. I spotted Alex on the curb, next to his car. I waved to him and pushed my way through the crowd. Trevor moved toward me. “I hear you were talking to Geoffrey Brocklin. What’s your new angle?”

I wanted to ask him who his source was, but there was no way he’d tell me. I noticed that Edie had left her cameraman behind and was pushing her way through the crowd to get to me. Brittany was right behind her. “What makes you think I’m working a new angle?”

“Because the word on the set is that he was pretty tight with Chloe.”

Edie poked her head forward. “Are you going for a jealousy motive?”

Trevor threw an irritated glance behind him, then turned back to me. “What’s your angle?”

I had no intention of using Geoffrey as one of my fall guys, and for his sake, I wanted to nip this one in the bud. But I couldn’t afford to dump any possibilities at this point. “Sorry, guys, I’m not able to discuss it just yet.”

Brittany leaned in. “But it has to do with Chloe, right?”

I needed to push them off the Geoffrey connection. If they kept digging into it, they might sniff out my real angle: Jaylene Thomas. I didn’t think she’d talk to anyone about our “meeting”-the last thing a dealer wants is publicity-but you never know. So I threw out the best mislead I could come up with. “Off the record?” They all nodded. “I can’t give you details yet, but my investigation has uncovered that Paige was the real target. Not Chloe.”

I turned and hurried through the crowd before they could ask any more questions.

Of course, that was bullshit. About the only thing my investigation had uncovered was a few lame straw men and some pretty shaky fringe witnesses. But hopefully, it’d make them let go of Geoffrey. More important, I hoped it’d make them focus on Paige.

The idea of making Paige the focus didn’t just pop into my head. I’d been giving it some thought. If Paige was the target, then Dale was an unlikely suspect. He had no motive whatsoever to kill her. So the more I could beef up the Paige angle, the better. If I could come up with even one more witness to make that theory stick, I’d keep beating the Paige drum to the press every chance I got. And after hearing it on the news over and over again, the jury would be more inclined to buy it.

As they say, a lie repeated often enough becomes the truth.