Stone Cold

Chapter Seventeen

Bradshaw hurried from the courtroom. He was waiting for Alex when she emerged in the hallway. He cupped her elbow and led her into a vacant witness room. Closing the door, he unloaded.

“That son of a bitch!” Bradshaw said. “That no good fucking son of a bitch!”

“Upton?”

“Of course Upton, for Christ’s sake. Who the hell else? Don’t worry, Mr. Bradshaw. I’ll be impartial toward your office, Mr. Bradshaw. Impartial my ass! Can you believe this bullshit?”

“The better question is, why are you yelling at me? Aren’t you supposed to wait until you get back to your office so you can yell at your secretary?”

“Because,” he said, “you’re as much to blame as the fucking judge.”

“Me? What did you want me to do? Not ask for my client to be released on his own recognizance? I was protecting the record, like asking for a dismissal after the prosecution rests even though I know there’s no chance the judge will grant the motion. Who knew Upton would actually release him?”

“That’s why you shouldn’t have asked. Not in this case. Not for Dwayne fucking Reed.”

“He’s got the same rights as every other defendant.”

Bradshaw closed in on her. “Forget which side we’re on, Alex. We’ve known each other long enough to do that just this once. Look me in the eye and tell me that Dwayne Reed is not a stone-cold killer, that you really believe he didn’t kill Wilfred Donaire, Kyrie Chapman, Jameer Henderson, his wife, and two kids. And then tell me that at least some of this isn’t your fault. And tell me that the next murder he commits won’t be your fault either.”

Bradshaw’s accusations echoed her growing doubts and nagging guilt, leaving her stunned and weak-kneed, though her combative instincts wouldn’t let her give in.

“You know better than that, or do you need a remedial course in constitutional law?”

Bradshaw backed off, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “Okay, okay. That’s not fair. You’re no more responsible for Dwayne being on the street than I am or the judge and jury are.”

Alex appreciated what he said, though it didn’t soothe her, because she was increasingly afraid that his indictment was fair, though she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“Apology accepted.”

“I get that sometimes the system sucks, but try telling that to the Hendersons or, better yet, try convincing Bonnie.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on, Alex. Bonnie called and told me what Dwayne said to her in the ER, how he threatened her.”

“She called you? Why?”

“Because she thought I could use that information to keep Dwayne in jail. She’s scared shitless.”

Alex took a deep breath, folded her arms over her chest, and paced around the small room. It was furnished with a rectangular wooden table and two molded-plastic chairs. She slid into one of the chairs, looking up at Bradshaw.

“I know. She sat up all night watching our street for strange cars. I kept telling her that Dwayne was in jail and that there was no way he could make bail.”

“What did she say?” Bradshaw asked.

“She said, ‘Yeah, right,’ and kept looking out the window. Neither of us got much sleep.”

“Did you tell her you were going to ask the judge to release him on his own recognizance?”

Alex shook her head, her face reddening. “No. I didn’t see the point. It would only have made things worse, especially now, since Upton let him go. Why didn’t you tell Upton that Dwayne had threatened Bonnie? That might have been enough for him to impose a bond that would have kept Dwayne locked up.”

“I didn’t think it would be necessary and I didn’t want to take the chance that Dwayne would find out about your relationship with Bonnie. That’s the wrong kind of leverage to give someone like him. He’d have you jumping through every hoop imaginable.”

“He’d have been in jail.”

“Like that would matter, or don’t you know how gangs work? If he or another gangbanger wanted something from you, all he’d have to do is whisper Bonnie’s name in your ear.”

Alex pressed her hands together, raising them to her mouth. Dwayne had bragged to her about killing Wilfred Donaire, and she believed even without proof that he killed Kyrie Chapman and the Hendersons. Which meant that Bradshaw was right not to have told the judge about Bonnie. She might one day convince herself that she wasn’t at least partly responsible for the Chapman and Henderson murders, but if Dwayne ever made good on his threats to Bonnie, she’d never find forgiveness or peace.

“And by lunchtime, he’ll be on the street again. What am I going to tell Bonnie?”

“Tell her it’s not your fault. That you were just doing your job.”

“Funny.”

“Wasn’t meant to be. But that’s what you have to tell her.”

“How’s that going to make her feel better?”

“It won’t, but I’ll talk to Mitch Fowler. He’s the commander of the Homicide Unit. I’ll ask him to put Detective Rossi on Reed. If Reed comes close to Bonnie, Rossi will take him down.”

Alex lowered her chin, her voice soft. “Thanks.”

Bradshaw pulled the other chair close to hers. “Listen. You and I have a lot of history. I know we go in the courtroom and beat each other’s brains out and I know why we do it. And I know all that noble bullshit about the Constitution isn’t just a cliche. I know it matters. But we’re friends and Bonnie and I are friends. That matters to me just as much as the system, and when the system can’t protect our friends or the Hendersons or even for that matter garbage like Kyrie Chapman, we can’t just shrug it off and say that’s the way it goes. We’ve got to do something about it.”

Alex raised her head, her eyes moist. “I get it.”

Bradshaw stood. “Do you? I hope so. There’s a lot at stake.”

“So what happens next? You do your job while I do mine and hope that Rossi does his?”

Bradshaw stood and opened the door. “I know what Rossi is going to do and I know what I’m going to do. As for you, well, I guess you’ve got a decision to make.”

Alex rose. “What are you’re saying? That I should tank my client’s case to get him off the street?”

“I’d never tell you to do that. The system sucks, but it isn’t broken beyond repair.”

“Then what?”

“I’ll knock the drug charge down to a Class C felony for simple possession. He does a minimum of three years.”

“That’s it?”

“No. He stays in jail, enters the plea tomorrow, and starts serving his sentence immediately. That’s how we’ll get him off the streets. Convince him to take it and we’ll all sleep a lot better.”

“What about the murders?”

“The investigations are ongoing, but tell him that if he confesses now I’ll drop the drug charge. He gets life for the murders, but I don’t mean the get-out-in-thirty-years life. I mean consecutive life sentences for each murder so that he never sees the outside again. If he says no, tell him that I’ll make it my life’s work to see that he’s convicted and sentenced to death.”

Alex sighed. His plan made sense.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah. Say hi to Bonnie,” he said.