Shadow of Doubt (A Kali O'Brien legal mystery) (34 page)

Jannine blinked hard. “You really think it will come to that?”

“I’m afraid it might.”

The tears began gathering again in the corners of her eyes. “But I’m innocent. They can’t prove I killed him if I didn’t.”

They could, though. And that’s what made the whole thing so frightening. “They’ll put together a scenario that fits with the evidence they have. It will all be circumstantial, but they’ll use it to paint the picture they want.”

I didn’t bother to add that, from the state’s perspective, the pieces fit rather nicely. Jannine’s gun as the murder weapon, a witness who saw a blue car like hers in the vicinity of the murder, the fact she cleaned her car that afternoon, and the fact that she had no alibi. Add to it rumors of a rocky marriage and the neighbor’s account of the fight Jannine and Eddie had that morning, and it made a pretty convincing story.

“The thing to remember,” I told her, “is that the state has the burden of proof. All you have to do is show that their case leaves room for reasonable doubt, that there just
might be
a different way of looking at the evidence.” She bit her lower lip again and nodded.

“You should start thinking about
your
scenario of what happened. You need to make sure everything’s covered and that everything is consistent. You don’t want to be tripped up, and you don’t want your attorney to be surprised by new revelations.”

She nodded again. “I’ve told you everything I remember.”

“I’ll handle the arraignment and bail,” I told her, “but you’ll need someone else for trial.”

Her face dropped. “Why?”

“I’m not a criminal attorney, for one thing.”

“And
I’m
not a criminal.”

“All the more reason you need an attorney with solid criminal experience.”

“How am I going to pay someone like that?” She looked up from wringing her hands. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I expect to pay you, Kali, it’s just that it won’t be right away. Not until the insurance is settled and everything.”

“It’s not the money, Jannine.
 
It’s that I haven’t handled a criminal case in almost five years. And I’ve never handled a big murder trial.”

She closed her eyes against the tears.

“You have the right to have an attorney appointed by the court, you know.”

“A public defender?” Her eyes opened, and her mouth twitched. “Me and the junkies and the bag ladies.”

The idea didn’t give me a lot of comfort either. There were exceptions, of course, but for the most part, public defenders were harried and overworked, more experienced at arranging plea bargains than aggressive trial defense.

“I’ll stay involved,” I told her. “I’ll meet with the P.D., help out, see that nothing gets lost in the shuffle.”

The matron stuck her head in. “Time’s just about up. Couple more minutes is all.”

“I’ll see about getting you out of here today,” I told Jannine. “If not, I’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning. You hang in there. And don’t worry, we’ll work it out

Okay?” I reached for her hand and held it tight a moment

Jannine smiled, a tentative, sad smile. “I’m sorry to have put all this on you. It’s just that I’m so scared. I don’t know who else I can turn to.”

“I want to help. I’m happy to do whatever I can.”

She stood to leave and then turned back. “Oh, I almost forgot. The man from the bank called yesterday, about that ten thousand dollar deposit. It’s the strangest thing. You’ll never guess where the money came from.” She shook her head. A bewildered half-laugh followed. “It was your father, of all people.”

“My father?”

She nodded. “I can’t figure it out either.”

<><><>

Why would my father give money to Eddie Marrero? I puzzled over the question and got nowhere. I couldn’t even venture a wild guess.

I continued playing with it while I trudged downstairs to see the deputy D.A. about bail.

“On a Sunday afternoon?” he said. “Not a chance. Especially not for a felony.”

“Tomorrow?”

“That’s a possibility. But you’ll have to talk to the chief about it. He’s handling this one himself.”

Which made me think we might very well go the full forty-eight hours.

On my way out I ran into Benson. “I thought you were off duty this weekend,” I said.

“So did I.”

“But coming in to arrest a devoted mother with four young children, that was just too great an opportunity to pass up, right?”

“This wasn’t my idea, if that’s what you’re thinking. The timing and the way it was handled, anyway. We took it to the DA. last week. He was still wavering. Then boom, this morning he’s ready to move.”

“There’s new evidence?”

He shook his head. “That’s what’s so odd. Maybe he’s getting pressure from the higher-ups. I don’t really know.”

“Well, you guys have gone down the wrong path on this one.”

He looked at me. His face was stern, but his eyes were kind. “I’m sorry, Kali, but I don’t think so.”

We passed through the lobby and into the glare of the afternoon sun. Benson turned to say something more, then stopped. “What happened to your face?” he asked, squinting in the brightness.

“There’s a report waiting for you in your office, about a package of fish guts and a threatening note. I think this,” I pointed to my eye, “was the past due notice.”

“Huh?”

While we walked to my car, I told him about both incidents.

“And you think they’re related to the Marrero case?”

“Why else would someone be after me?”

“No offense, Kali, but there could be any number of reasons. And the reason you’re giving me, it just doesn’t make sense.”

“Unless Jannine is innocent, and the real killer wants to keep me from figuring out the truth.”

Benson looked skeptical. “You got any ideas? Besides George Marrero, that is. I looked into that, like I told you I would. The guy was at the hospital all Saturday afternoon having some tests run,"

I shook my head. “No ideas.” I was plumb out of ideas, in fact. Yet somebody obviously thought I was close to the truth. It was as frustrating as it was scary.

We arrived at my car, and I pulled out the keys. Benson examined the plastic sheeting covering the window. “Was this part of the past due notice?”

“No, that was something different.”

He gave me that
see what I mean
look. “You got a way of finding trouble, Kali. Can’t all be related to this case.”

“The car that tried to run me over was white,” I said, steering the conversation back to productive ground. “An American model.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down much. How about the threatening phone call, male or female?”

“It was hard to tell.”

Benson scratched his cheek.

I decided to let it drop. There wasn’t anything he could do at that point. I was getting ready to slide into the car when I had another thought. “Did my father ever say anything to you about Eddie Marrero?”

“Not that I recall. Why?”

“He apparently gave, or lent, Eddie some money. Just recently. That’s why Eddie could afford to buy his sister’s share of the tavern.”

Benson screwed up his face and stared off into space for a moment. It was a long moment, during which his jaw muscle worked furiously, but then his features dropped back into place. “Beats me,” he said finally.

<><><>

Tom was waiting for me when I returned to my father’s place. He’d showered and changed, and somewhere along the way he had picked up some steaks. He had the barbecue out on the front patio, already lit, and a pitcher of margaritas, iced and ready to go.

“Didn’t figure you’d feel much like cooking tonight,” he said.

I wasn’t sure I even felt like eating, but I accepted a margarita willingly. I certainly felt like drinking.

“Jannine doing okay?”

“Not great. Under the circumstances, I guess that’s to be expected.”

A warm breeze blew across my skin. I had a sudden vision of Jannine, alone in a dank cell, her young daughters alone too, facing their worst fears without a mother’s comfort I hugged my arms across my chest and shivered.

“Your, uh, friend Ken, he said he was leaving anyway . . . So I thought . ..
 
you know, that you wouldn’t want to come home to an empty house.” Tom paused to look at me. “But maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.”

My mind was still on Jannine. I worked to bring it back to the present.

“I mean, we never really talked about this. I guess we should have.” He hesitated. “We can pretend Friday night never happened, you know. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. We’re not sixteen anymore. If you’d rather I leave right now, I can understand that. Steak stays, though. It’s yours no matter what.”

I’d felt the icy shaft of tequila make its way down my throat and into my stomach. Now I could feel it moving through my bloodstream, like a current of silver bubbles. “It’s not the way you think,” I said. “Ken just drove up this morning. To tell me he’s taking a job in D.C.”

“He’s leaving?”

I nodded.

“For good?”

“It looks that way.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, well, the firm’s falling apart It’s sort of every man for himself.”

“And every woman.”

“That, too.”

Tom looked at me and then away. He turned the steaks and adjusted the flow of air to the fire, taking his time with both. “The guy wasn’t your type anyway,” he said, eyes still diverted.

“How do you know?”

Tom glanced my way finally, and I smiled.

He didn’t exactly smile in return, but the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly, and his gaze softened. Then he turned back to the steaks. “So, you going to tell me what happened with that face of yours?”

I told him. I told him about the midnight episode with George, too, and all that led up to it.

“You believe him?”

I nodded. “Besides, Benson checked it out. He
was
at the hospital Saturday. So now I’m back to square one, with nothing.”

“Except that somebody out there thinks you know something.”

“Or just plain hates me.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he said, fixing his eyes on mine.

I ignored the look. “The only other thing is these pictures Cheryl Newcomb gave a friend for safekeeping.”

“She’s the girl who ran away last week?”

“Right, the same girl who was with Eddie Saturday morning.” I explained about Eva and the envelope of photographs. “She must have had them with her at school that morning. It was right afterwards that she stopped by to give them to Eva.”