Stone Cold

Chapter Nineteen

Every case had problems. Alex knew that. If the facts were bad, she focused on the law. If the law was unfavorable, she focused on the facts. If both were against her, she’d make the best deal she could. That was life in the criminal justice system. Sometimes justice was blind and other times it was a sausage grinder churning out imperfect solutions to impossible problems.

But she’d never had a case with a problem like this. There was no point in going to the law library to research similar cases. There wouldn’t be any. She couldn’t ask her boss, Robin Norris, for advice because Robin would pull her off Dwayne’s case in a heartbeat and she’d lose whatever leverage she had to influence the outcome. And she couldn’t have a come-to-Jesus meeting with her client to convince him to do the right thing because that wasn’t in Dwayne’s DNA.

She needed someone to talk to, someone who’d rummage around in the dark corners of her problem and dig out a solution. There was one person she thought she could ask for help: Judge West.

Though he hadn’t come right out and urged her to cross the line in her defense of hard-core criminals, he’d implied as much. If she was right about his intent, he might show her a way out of the wilderness. If she was wrong, she’d be more lost than she already was, if that was possible.

Judge West was on the bench when she walked into his courtroom. Two lawyers were arguing a motion over admissibility of evidence in an upcoming trial. He was leaning back in his chair, eyes half closed, as the lawyers droned on. She approached the rail separating the judge and lawyers from the pews, not taking a seat, waiting for him to notice her. When he did, he sat up, interrupting the lawyer who was talking.

“Thank you, Counsel. I’ll take the matter under advisement.”

“But, Your Honor,” the lawyer said. “I haven’t finished my argument.”

“That is where you and I differ, Counsel. We’re adjourned.”

He banged his gavel, rose, and looked at Alex, cocking his head toward the door to his chambers. Alex nodded, passing the lawyers without making eye contact as they packed their briefcases.

Seated behind his desk, Judge West opened a drawer, retrieving his bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses.

“No, thanks, Judge. Too early in the day for me,” Alex said, standing behind one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“The way you came in my courtroom looking like Little Girl Lost, I figured a drink was exactly what you needed. Especially after what happened over the weekend. I have to say when I saw the news that I wasn’t surprised. Then again, I’m guessing you weren’t either. Must have been tough walking in on those bodies.”

“Very tough, Your Honor. Beyond tough, in fact.”

He studied her for a moment as she gripped the back of the chair, her knuckles turning white, her face flushed and her belly churning, pretending that it was the most natural thing in the world to be standing in his chambers deciding whether to take the first step down a path from which she’d never be able to turn back.

“Yes, I see that. Well, if you won’t have a drink, at least have a seat and tell me why you’re here.”

Alex nodded, loosened her grip, and eased into the chair. She looked at her hands like she didn’t recognize them and had no idea what to do with them, at last dropping them in her lap. She had the same uncertainty about what to do next, knowing that whatever she said could not be unsaid and that whatever she did would be forever done.

She considered how she had arrived at this moment, comparing herself to her clients. There was no mystery in how they found their way into trouble. Most of them saw crime as a logical, inescapable career choice. Being born was their first step.

She thought about those who were born into better circumstances, growing up privileged and powerful, having it all, only to fall from grace. What, she wondered, had the moment been like when they took their first step toward ruin? Did they recognize it for what it was? What rationalization clouded their vision, or did they rationalize at all, instead leaping into the abyss buoyed by certain invulnerability or encouraged by a conviction of entitlement? Or were they driven by a suspicion that they were unworthy of their station in life, secretly hoping to be caught?

Perhaps she had stepped onto this path that first day of law school when she and Tommy Bradshaw had fought over the meaning of justice. Or maybe her descent began the moment she realized she couldn’t live without Bonnie.

There was no way to know for certain, and it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the next words out of her mouth. She took a deep breath and looked Judge West square in the eye.

“I need your advice. Off the record.”

He poured himself a drink, sipped, and cradled the glass in both hands.

“If I can help you, I will. Off the record.”

“And if you can’t?”

“Then this conversation never happened.”

She took another breath, wringing her hands.

“Thank you.”

She hesitated, turning her head from side to side, glancing around his chambers.

“It’s just you and me, Alex. I promise you. No hidden cameras or microphones.”

“I know. I know. It’s just that this is so hard.”

“Always is. Supposed to get easier, but I’m not so sure.”

She furrowed her brow. “Are we talking about the same thing?”

He took another sip. “I believe we are. We’re talking about your client, Mr. Reed, and what you’re going to do about him. Isn’t that so?”

She took another deep breath, this one filled with relief at not having to broach the subject. “How did you know?”

“You’re passionate about what you do. You’ve got to be when you represent the worst of the worst. But when that passion collides head-on with the harsh reality of a bad actor like Dwayne Reed, well, young lady, that is the worst kind of train wreck. You can’t help but question what the hell you’re doing.”

She swallowed hard. “That’s an understatement.”

“Tommy Bradshaw must have been fit to be tied when Judge Upton released Dwayne on his own recognizance.”

“How did you know about that?”

“There are some things I take a personal interest in. Your client is one of them. When something happens, people let me know. That’s one of the perks of having been around here as long as I have. Bradshaw should’ve known better than to go after Upton with that ridiculous residency complaint just because one of his moneymen got his feelings hurt. And now your client is back on the street and you’re worried about what he’s going to do next.”

“More like scared to death.”

“Did he kill the Hendersons and Kyrie Chapman?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you’re afraid he did.”

“Off the record, yes.”

“And you don’t want him to kill anyone else while he’s waiting for you to cut him a deal on the possession charge.”

Alex nodded, her voice falling an octave. “Yes. I’d rather he didn’t.”

Judge West shrugged. “Dwayne strikes me as the kind who kills when he thinks he’s got a reason, though he probably gets a sick kick out of it too. And if he killed those people, I can see how he would have thought he had a reason. You think he’s got a reason to kill someone else?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice thick, her answer catching in her throat. “Or at least hurt someone very badly.”

The judge peered into his shot glass before draining it. “Newspaper said Dwayne tore up his leg climbing over a fence trying to run away from Detective Rossi. I don’t suppose the paramedics took him to the ER at Truman.”

“They did.”

“Uh-huh,” he grunted. “And I don’t suppose Bonnie took care of him.”

Alex rose from her chair, arms crossed, angry now. “The son of a bitch threatened to come back and rape her as soon he got out of jail. She believes him and so do I,” she said, then telling the judge what had happened in the ER.

“Then tell Detective Rossi or, better yet, tell Tommy Bradshaw, and they’ll yank his ass back to jail and Judge Upton will have to revoke his bail.”

“Tommy already knows. Bonnie told him. Tommy offered to let Dwayne plea to a Class C felony for possession and do three years if he agreed to stay in jail, enter his plea tomorrow, and start serving his sentence. He also offered to let him plead to the murders in exchange for consecutive life terms.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Dwayne turned both offers down. He thinks I’ll get him off and he says he has a promise to keep for someone when she gets home. That has to be Bonnie. I told Bradshaw and he’ll tell Rossi. But there’s no way to know if or when he’ll try something or whether Rossi will be able to stop him.”

“And in the meantime, you’re still Dwayne’s lawyer. You’ll have to tell your boss about Bonnie.”

“If I do, Robin will pull me off the case. And if by some miracle she doesn’t and Bradshaw tells Judge Upton that Dwayne threatened Bonnie. .”

“Dwayne will be able to use your relationship with Bonnie to make you do God knows what.”

“Exactly.”

“And you want to hold on to Dwayne’s case without him making you jump for the sport of it.”

She heaved a sigh. “Yes.”

Judge West squinted at her, drawing out his one-word question. “Why?”

Alex threw her hands into the air, pacing around his chambers before planting her palms on his desk.

“Because I want him off the streets forever.”

Judge West nodded, reached for his bottle of whiskey, and filled both of their shot glasses. “Can’t argue. Now, how about that drink?”

Alex snatched her glass and gulped it down, the amber liquid warming her throat and soothing her jangled nerves. She folded her arms across her chest again, clutching her sides.

“I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Why not? It’s what you believe. It’s what you want and it’s what Bonnie needs.”

“You know that’s not the point!”

The judge raised his hand. “Now, settle down. Settle down. You know that it is a big part of the point. Why not let things take their natural course? Let the system work. Let Rossi keep his eye on Bonnie. If he can make a case against Dwayne for the murders, they’ll arrest him. I’ll make sure his case ends up in my court. You can stay on it without ever having to mention Bonnie’s name. He’ll be convicted and sentenced to death. And ten years down the road, after the ACLU has cost the taxpayers a few million dollars on appeals that will go nowhere, he’ll get the needle.”

Alex’s eyes popped; she was amazed at what she’d just heard. “You can do that? You can make sure that Dwayne’s case is assigned to you?” West nodded. “How? Case assignments are supposed to be random.”

“It’s enough for you to know that I can.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that you can somehow magically guarantee that he’ll be convicted?”

“There are no guarantees in life, including in my courtroom. But some things are more certain than others, and if we both do our parts, maybe that can be one of them.”

Alex shook her head. “Why are you telling me this? If anyone else finds out, you’ll be thrown off the bench, maybe even indicted.”

“Alex, why did you come to me for advice?”

She shook her head again. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” Judge West tapped his finger on his desk. “In here, in my chambers, on this case and every other one like it, you and I will tell each other the truth. I’ve shown you that respect. I expect no less from you. Now, why do you think I told you?”

She hesitated, gripping the back of her chair again to keep her balance as she fought off a split second of vertigo, her world spinning off its axis. Grounded, she said what she knew to be true.

“Because we’ll both do whatever it takes to stop Dwayne Reed.”

Judge West raised his glass to her. “And now we understand each other. Everyone knows the system isn’t perfect, but you and I can get it a little closer.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper. “That’s my cell phone number. You need anything, call me.”

Alex folded the slip of paper in her hand. “But what happens if Rossi can’t make the case against Dwayne? Or Tommy Bradshaw can’t convince the jury? Or if you can’t do your part or when it comes down to it, I can’t do mine? What then? What happens to Bonnie? Rossi will try to protect her, but how much can he do, really? I mean, he’s only one man and he can’t be on her or Dwayne twenty-four/seven.”

“You’re right about that. There are rules they have to follow, and knowing them both, that’s what they will do. Even Rossi, despite his trigger-happy reputation.”

“There are rules I have to follow too.”

“Then you’ve only got one choice,” Judge West said.

She looked at him, her face pinched with pain and worry. “What’s that?”

“Break the rules.”