Stone Cold

Chapter Fifteen

Alex stepped into the examination room. Dwayne propped himself up, smiling.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Officer Evans said. “This room is restricted. You’ll have to leave.”

“I agree. I’m Alex Stone from the public defender’s office and this man is my client. So until I’m done talking with him, this room is restricted. You’re the ones who have to leave.”

“We don’t know anything about that, ma’am,” Evans said.

“You know Detective Rossi, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. He sent us down here.”

“Then call him and tell him what I said.” Evans hesitated. “Go on. Call him unless you want me to file a complaint against you for denying me access to my client.”

Evans dipped his chin, speaking into the two-way radio strapped to his shoulder. “This is Officer Evans, East Patrol, badge number 1229. I’m at Truman with a prisoner and I’ve got a situation. I need to talk to Detective Rossi.”

“Can you believe this shit?” Dwayne said.

Alex raised her hand. “Not another word, Dwayne.”

They waited in silence for five minutes until Evans’s cell phone rang.

“Evans,” he said, listening. “Understood.” He closed the phone. “Detective Rossi is on his way.”

“When’s he supposed to get here?” Alex asked.

The door opened behind her. “Now,” Rossi said. “That soon enough for you?”

Alex turned around. Rossi stood in the doorway, Bonnie right behind him.

“Dr. Long, are you ready to discharge my prisoner?”

“Yes. He’s good to go.”

“Officers, take my prisoner downtown. Ms. Stone, you can drop by for a visit after we’re done booking your client.”

Alex knew there was no point in arguing. “Don’t say a word,” she instructed Dwayne. “And don’t question my client outside my presence. Understood, Detective?”

“No need to take me to school, Counselor. I graduated a long time ago.”

It was another three hours before Alex was able to see Dwayne, long enough for him to have been booked and transferred to the Jackson County jail, where he traded in his boxers for an orange jumpsuit. They met in the visitor area, separated by Plexiglas, talking over phones hung on either side of the divide. It was Saturday night, well outside visiting hours, and they had the room to themselves.

“What up?” Dwayne said.

“How’s your leg?”

“It ain’t nuthin’.”

“You know why you’re in jail?”

He made a face like he’d thrown up in his mouth. “On account of that muthafucker Rossi. Man wants my ass.”

“Did he tell you about the crack they found in your jeans?”

“He tol’ me. It’s bullshit. Dope wasn’t even mine.”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me that the cops put it in your jeans.”

Dwayne rolled his eyes. “Not that they wouldn’t, but it belong to my mama.”

“It was Odyessy’s crack?” Alex asked.

“For a smart lawyer, you ax some dumb-ass questions. How many mamas you think I got?”

“Fine. Why was your mother’s crack in your pocket?”

“Better than bein’ in her pocket. All she gonna do is smoke it.”

Alex raised her eyebrows. “Are you telling me that you were trying to stop your mother from using?”

“Why you look so surprised? She my mama, ain’t she? I jus’ ’bout had her clean ’fore they arrested me for killin’ Wilfred. No way she could stay off that shit wit’out me bein’ there to stop her. I was gone more’n six months till you got me off. Plenty of time for her to get back to her old ways. We was jus’ gettin’ started over again when Rossi show up.”

Alex sat back in her chair, the phone resting on her shoulder. Dwayne wasn’t the first client to tell her he’d been caught with dope that belonged to someone else. It was a drug dealer’s version of the squirrel-came-in-my-window-and-ate-my-homework excuse. Yet there was something about the way he told the story that made her believe him or, more to her amazement, want to believe him. Her mother had always told her that there was good inside every human being; you just had to know where to look. She wondered if Dwayne was hiding his goodness beneath the bodies of the Henderson family.

“Why’d you run from Rossi?”

“After the shit he pulled on me, it was run or throw down, and I wasn’t lookin’ for no trouble.”

“You mean you were ready to let bygones be bygones?”

He smiled. “Yeah. That’s me. I’m all about forgive and forget.”

Alex shook her head, staring at the floor, not saying anything.

“What you lookin’ at?” he asked.

She raised her head. “I’m waiting to see how deep the bullshit gets.”

Dwayne laughed. “See, that’s why I like you. That’s why you such a good lawyer.”

“Because I can recognize bullshit?”

“Nah. ’Cause you know what to do wit’ it.”

She couldn’t argue with the compliment. There were times when bullshit was all she had to work with.

“Thanks. You know the real reason you’re in here has nothing to do with the crack the cops found in your jeans.”

Dwayne leaned forward, his face less than an inch from the Plexiglas. “What you talkin’ ‘bout?”

“I’m talking about five dead bodies: Kyrie Chapman and the Jameer Henderson family. The good deed you did for your mother gave Rossi enough to hold you while he tries to nail you for their murders.”

Dwayne edged away from the glass, his face hardening. “Don’t know nuthin’ ’bout that shit.”

“Except you do know that they’re dead.”

“I hear them cops talkin’ ’bout it. That’s all,” he said, his lips barely moving.

“Then do yourself a favor. Don’t talk about it. With anybody. Your initial appearance is set for nine o’clock Monday morning. I’ll see you in court.”