Blood Defense

SIXTY-FOUR

I was pretty amped when I rode to court the next morning. Tired, sore, and looking like I’d spent the night in a washing machine on the spin cycle-but amped. Alex and Michelle were with me. They deserved to take this victory lap.

I headed back to the holding tank to see Dale. It was a whole new experience now that he’d been cleared. I could look him in the eye and not wonder whether he’d murdered two innocent girls. I could share a smile with him and not worry that I was in the company of a psychopath. And I could hold my head up without feeling judged for being the daughter of a multiple murderer. It surprised me to realize how much that had weighed on me. It wasn’t as though he’d ever been a real father to me. But there was no denying that we were connected by blood. Like it or not, on some elemental, lizard-brain level, his sins were my sins. So knowing he hadn’t killed Paige and Chloe was more than just a relief-it was almost as though I’d been exonerated.

Dale was beaming. “Does this mean I’ll actually get to talk to you with no bars or bulletproof glass between us? I won’t know how to act.”

I smiled. “Me neither.”

His eyes were misty. “I’d say thank you, but it seems so lame. You saved my life.” His expression turned anxious. “When I heard about the fire at your office, I thought I was going to lose my mind. If anything had happened to you, Sam…” He trailed off, unable to speak.

I waited for him to recover. When he looked up again, I gave him a little smile. “We don’t have to go there.”

Dale sighed. “No, better not.”

But my smile wavered. The image of Brent putting the gun to his head, the roar of the shot, his blood and brains splattering the walls, kept coming back to me, again and again.

Dale watched me knowingly. “I’ve seen some ugly things-even saw a jumper once-but I’ve never seen anyone commit suicide that way. How’d you sleep?”

“Not great.” That was nothing new. But last night, I got to have a whole new nightmare and dreamed nonstop about blasts of gunfire and torn, bloody faces. I woke up over and over again, breathless and shaking. “I just hope it’ll stop sometime soon.”

Dale nodded. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I can tell you from experience, it does get better-eventually. And if you want to talk, I’m here.”

That’s right, he really could be. Now. “Thanks. I’ll remember that.”

Dale’s brow furrowed. “They arrest Aubrey yet?”

I nodded. “Up in Sacramento. He was at a campaign fund-raiser. Guess he’ll need those funds for something else now.”

As we exchanged grins, the bailiff tapped me on the shoulder. “The judge’s about to come out, Samantha. Wrap it up.”

I gave the bailiff a salute and turned back to Dale. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

The benches in the gallery were so packed I didn’t know how anyone was breathing. The story had been all over the news, but the audience sat in rapt silence as Detective Little spoke. To his credit, he admitted we’d put it together for him.

When he finished, Zack asked for two weeks to let the crime lab process the evidence at Chloe’s apartment and the Larsens’ beach house, “Just to make sure it all jibes.”

The judge glared at him. “Two weeks? So this man can spend more time in custody for crimes he didn’t commit? I’ll give you three days. You either bring in solid proof that Dale Pearson committed these murders by then, or I’m dismissing this case. And in the meantime, I’m setting bail at ten thousand dollars.” He turned to me. “I assume he can make that?”

I’d anticipated the judge might grant bail, so I’d asked Alex to bring his uncle Tomas, the bail bondsman. I looked back at Tomas now, and he nodded. “Yes, he can make that.”

“Very well. You’re all ordered back Thursday morning. Until then, we’ll be in recess.”

When the judge left the bench, Dale and I had a long hug. Our first real one. It felt strange but somehow familiar. The clicking of cameras filled the room. For a change, I’d get to go out and talk to the press without worrying about what I needed to spin.

I stood in front of the courthouse in the thin winter sunshine and answered obvious questions like, “Do you feel vindicated?” (Of course) and “Does Dale plan to sue?” (No comment at this time).

This was better than a hung jury-or even an acquittal. Dale was completely cleared. And the story was huge. By tomorrow morning, there’d be no corner of the country that hadn’t heard it. Dale would never have to deal with the doubts that always lingered around defendants whose convictions got reversed on a “technicality.”

And public opinion had turned on a dime. Now the waving posters touted DALE PEARSON-INNOCENT! and DALE PEARSON, VICTIM OF INJUSTICE! There was even some comic relief: a woman in high heels and a bikini waved a poster reading: DALE PEARSON, WILL YOU MARRY ME?

I took her picture. When I picked Dale up at the jail later that day, I showed it to him. “Just wanted you to know you’ve got a lot of ‘options.’ Even if some of them are a little sketchy.”

He laughed, then he looked up at the sky. “I can’t believe I’m out of that dungeon.” We didn’t talk much on the ride home. Dale spent most of the time staring out the window. When I pulled into his driveway, he sat unmoving for several long moments as he looked at his house. “I didn’t think I’d ever see this place again.”

He pulled on the door handle and tried to push the passenger door open, but it stuck. He had to put his shoulder into it, and when it gave, the old hinges let out a metallic shriek. Dale frowned, then leaned over and checked out the mileage. “Don’t you think it’s time to let this thing go to car heaven?”

I spread my arms across the dashboard. “Do not let Beulah hear you say that. She’ll make me push her home.”

Dale grinned. “My bad. We’ll discuss it later, when she’s not listening. Maybe over dinner? We really should celebrate.”

“I agree. You get settled and we’ll figure it out.”

Dale squeezed my hand and got out. I watched him unlock the door. He turned and waved to me, and I waved back. As I drove away, I realized I didn’t know whether this was a beginning or an end. And I wasn’t sure which one I wanted it to be.