Tranquility Falls

by Davis Bunn

  They passed through security and were directed to the DA’s office on the second floor. Stella walked the corridor a few paces behind Sol and Daniel. Nicole was more or less alongside her, but the young woman was focused intently upon her phone. She typed furiously, using just her thumbs. Daniel called back, “Anything?”

  Nicole did not look up. “When I know, you know.”

  Sol directed Daniel and Stella onto a hard, wooden bench. “I’ll tell them we’re here.” He swiftly returned to announce, “They’re running late.”

  “Good,” Daniel replied. “That gives me time to convince you I’m right.”

  Sol motioned for Stella to slip over and seated himself between them. Nicole leaned against the wall to Stella’s left, still working her phone. Sol said, “Let’s review things from the DA’s perspective.”

  “We’ve been through that,” Daniel replied.

  “Just humor me.” He ticked points off the fingers of one hand. “The DA himself is handling this case. I’ve been up against him four times and still carry the scars. Perry Sanchez is known among the local defense community as the Piranha, and for good reason. Perry has lost only a couple of cases since coming into office.”

  “Which is why he won’t want to take this forward.”

  “Hear me out.” Stella thought Sol looked both worried and thoughtful, as if he was certain of his stance and yet open to being convinced otherwise. “We’re here because Perry is absolutely certain the evidence against my client is overwhelming. He wants to pull this dump truck up to the conference table and unload so much weight we’ll have no choice but accept their terms. He and his team have spent the past week preparing their case.”

  “Which is bogus.”

  Sol lifted his hand. “I’m not suggesting you’re wrong. I’m simply saying it’s not time yet to go on the offensive.”

  “The longer we wait, the more entrenched they become.”

  Sol’s hand remained poised in midair. “If we reveal what we know and they go away unconvinced, they will simply prepare a counterargument. Which means all we’ve done is given them a chance to prepare more ammunition.”

  Daniel did not respond.

  “Say we hold off. We walk in, just Stella and I. They’ve allowed me to video the conference because I insisted. For the moment, you remain officially out of the picture. The prosecutors will spend however much time they need laying out their case. They will conclude by offering terms. Which will include jail time.”

  “No,” Daniel said. “No.”

  “Whatever they offer, we respond that we need time to decide. Perry will insist upon our replying now. That’s why we’re here. On a Saturday. Because the DA intends this to be a ‘take it or leave it’ offer, conditional upon Stella making up her mind before she leaves the table. He then shows up Monday bright and early and informs the judge the bow has been tied around his case.”

  “That’s not happening.”

  “This is one of Perry’s favorite tactics. Stressing the situation. But the weekend meeting actually works in our favor. Whatever he says, however much he pressures us, we insist on forty-eight hours to decide. He may withdraw his offer and say we’re going to trial.”

  “Everything you’ve laid out just means more stress for Stella,” Daniel said.

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Sol leaned in closer. “When we leave here, we know their case. We can prepare a response to every issue they raise. A trial date will be set, probably a month or so from now. You continue your hunt for evidence to support my client’s position. Once we have all the bases covered, we ask for another meeting. Perry will assume it’s to counter. He’ll come in prepared to blow our case out of the water. Instead, we do it to him.”

  Daniel spoke to the opposite wall. “And all the while, we’ve forced Stella to live another month in fear for her freedom.”

  Sol looked at her. “Do you have anything you’d like to say?”

  “Just that I love how you two are talking,” she replied. “As if we’re facing this together.”

  “There’s no ‘as if,’ ” Daniel replied, still focused on a point where the cracked linoleum floor met the peeling paint. “We’re with you. And it’s staying this way.”

  She was trying to find some way to tell them how much that meant when Nicole said, “I think I’ve found something.”

  CHAPTER 57

  Nicole was still walking them through the information on her phone when the elevator pinged open and Veronica appeared. “There’s a man downstairs asking for Daniel.”

  Stella watched his gray eyes turn electric, like lightning flashed down deep. “The station brought in a detective. Carl Dellacourt.”

  “That’s the guy. He says he’s not sure you will want him to join us.”

  Sol asked, “Meaning what, exactly?”

  “All he told me was, if the DA sees him, they might guess he’s come up with the goods.”

  “Wow,” Nicole said.

  “Wow works for me,” Daniel said.

  Veronica smiled a greeting as she settled in beside Stella. “How are you holding up, honey?”

  “Better and better,” Stella said. She rose to her feet and told Daniel, “You stay and plan. I’ll go bring him up.”

  Carl Dellacourt was a Cuban fireplug with wide, stubby legs. When Stella approached him, he said, “As I live and breathe. The lady herself.”

  Stella liked him immediately. “You must be the man who’s bringing the life preserver.”

  “That’s my job.” Dellacourt followed her back to the elevator. “Where’s Riffkin?”

  “Upstairs with my attorney, trying to keep me out of jail.”

  “Works for me.” When the elevator doors slid shut, he asked, “You managing to keep things together?”

  “There are bad times,” she replied. “But less than I might have expected. At least I’m not alone.”

  Dellacourt grunted. “Good thing to have around, friends.”

  “You were a police officer?”

  “Gold shield.” He must have detected confusion, because he added, “Senior detective. Burglary, then white collar. I always hated shoddy investigations. Almost as much as I hated prosecutors looking for the easy way out. This is both.”

  “I didn’t do what they said. Steal the town’s money.”

  “I know that.” He offered her reflection an angry smile. “And before we’re done here, they will too.”

  When they stepped out, both Sol and Daniel were there to greet them. The three men entered a swift huddle right there in front of the elevator. Stella returned to the bench. She had little interest in hearing what was being said. It was enough to watch the electric light spread from Daniel’s gaze to his face. He motioned for Nicole to join them. Thirty seconds later, the young woman started a tight little two-step.

  When they finally started down the corridor toward them, Sol told Daniel, “Looks to me like you were right all along.”

  “Correction. We’ve been handed what we needed to turn things around.”

  “Maybe,” Sol corrected.

  “Maybe works for me.” Daniel turned to where Veronica relaxed on the bench. “Where is your gear?”

  “In the car, waiting for you to give me the word.”

  As if in response, the prosecutor’s door opened, and a woman searched the hall for Sol. “They’re ready for you.”

  “Stay here. This could take a while.” As Sol passed Veronica, he said, “Go prep. If we get the green light, we’ll need to move fast so they don’t have time to change their tiny minds.”

  CHAPTER 58

  During the next hour, Sol returned twice to the corridor. Supposedly, it was to convey the DA’s dire threats. In truth, it was to discuss strategy. Things were shifting rapidly now. The prosecutor was understandably irate that Sol refused their offer of a deal. Perry Sanchez had started this day thinking his case was so powerful nobody in their right mind would take it to court. His entire strategy was centered upon crushing any hope
Stella might have of getting off. Sol’s polite rejection of any pretrial deal left the DA threatening to go for the maximum sentence. Ten to twenty years with no chance of parole.

  The second time Sol reseated himself in the corridor, he said, “We may need to come back another day.”

  Daniel stopped scrolling through Nicole’s phone to say, “Works for me.”

  “Stella?”

  “I am absolutely happy to leave this in your hands.”

  Sol showed them all a rare smile. “And here I thought this day would be a trial.”

  “Bad choice of metaphor,” Daniel said.

  Then the court stenographer opened the door to announce, “Mr. Sanchez asks how much longer you will be.”

  Sol rose to his feet. “Looks like it’s my turn to offer an ultimatum.”

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, Stella entered the conference room alone.

  Perry Sanchez was a ferret-faced man, all nose and forehead and attitude. The assistant prosecutor was Daphne Lane. She and the court recorder were both big, solid women. Stella wondered if they needed the extra bulk to shield them from their boss’s ire. Which was now directed at Sol. “How much more of our valuable time do you intend to waste here?”

  Sol gave no response. Water off a duck’s back, Stella thought, as he escorted her around the table and seated her directly opposite the prosecutor. Her heart hammered, being this close to the man who wanted to send her to prison. Strip away her freedom. Tear her from her daughter’s life.

  Sol walked back around the table. He waited as Veronica wired up Stella’s collar mike, then seated himself two chairs down from the prosecutor.

  Veronica returned to the small table set in the room’s far corner and said, “Let me hear your voice, please.”

  “Test, test.”

  “Fine.” She checked the laptop’s screen. “Sol, shift your chair to your right a few inches; you’re partly out of view.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” the prosecutor said.

  Veronica gave Sol a thumbs-up.

  Sol began, “As I explained earlier, this will not be a full deposition. But do feel free to ask any questions you feel are pertinent to our moving forward.”

  “Point of order,” the DA snapped. “Where do you get off, assuming you know my intentions?”

  Sol waited through a full thirty seconds of silence. Finally, Sanchez told the court reporter. “Swear her in.”

  Then Sol began with, “Please state your name for the record.”

  * * *

  “How long have you served on the city’s payroll?”

  “Nine years. First as part-time bookkeeper. When the auditor retired, I took over his position.”

  “You earned your CPA degree during that period, correct?”

  “Yes. At night school here in San Luis Obispo.”

  “When did you first notice the missing funds?”

  “Three months and two weeks ago. The third of March. But the evidence I discovered went back much further.”

  The DA snorted softly but did not speak.

  Sol asked, “When did the thefts actually begin?”

  Stella focused on Sol and did her best to ignore the glowering DA, his number two, the court stenographer, Veronica, the cameras, the omnidirectional mike stationed before the prosecution team. “At that point, I wasn’t sure there had been any theft at all.”

  Gently, Sol guided her through that horrible first day. Night, really, as she had labored for eighteen hours before she finally accepted that the nightmare was real. A steady depletion of funds had been taking place. From the city maintenance and fire and rescue departments, and the largest theft of all from the employee pension fund. Supposed bad investments and sky-high fees that, when glimpsed in fragments, appeared to simply be a series of wrong choices. Added to this were charges for new equipment that did not exist and services that had never been rendered. Taken together, it all added up to only one conclusion.

  Sol surprised her then. He leaned back, tapped his pen on the legal pad, then said, “Your witness, counselor.”

  Perry Sanchez was clearly taken aback. “That’s it?”

  “For the moment.”

  He glared at Sol. “So we’re clear, counselor, she is not a witness. She is the accused.”

  Sol studied the notes on his legal pad and did not respond.

  Sanchez glared across the table. “Back to his question. How long ago did you begin stealing from the city’s funds?”

  Stella remained silent.

  Sol offered a tight smile. “Perhaps you’d care to rephrase that question?”

  Sanchez snapped, “Don’t presume to teach me my business in my office.”

  Stella continued to watch Sol. Only when he rolled one finger did she reply, “I never stole a dime.”

  “The evidence says differently. It shows clearly that you began siphoning off funds the same month you took over as auditor.”

  Stella nodded slowly. This realization had kept her up far too many nights.

  Sol held to his calm monotone. “If you’ll grant me just a few more minutes, I think you may be glad you didn’t continue in this vein.”

  Sanchez did a lizard thing, slowly wheeling around, ready to pounce. But Daphne Lane reached over and touched his arm. A subtle gesture. Stella saw it, though. And so did Sol.

  Sanchez glanced at the assistant DA. Daphne Lane shared his hard gaze but held to a look of caution. Or so Stella thought.

  Sol went on, “My aim is to lay out our case. Three more witnesses. Afterward, you are welcome to bring Ms. Dalton back in and continue. If you want.”

  Sanchez chewed on that for a long moment, then said, “Get on with it.”

  CHAPTER 59

  But as Stella started to rise, Sol said, “Just one more question.” When she seated herself, Sol continued, “Ms. Dalton, how would you respond to the mayor’s claim that she discovered the theft?”

  The shock punched her back in her chair. “Catherine said that?”

  The DA snapped, “You’re wasting our time.”

  Sol said, “Ms. Dalton?”

  “She couldn’t have. It’s not possible.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  Only then did Stella realize Sol had planned this. He had intended for the DA to see her astonishment. Sanchez’s dark gaze continued to smolder. But there was something else now—a curiosity, perhaps even caution. She replied, “Catherine is hopeless with numbers.”

  “Hearsay,” Sanchez said.

  “What do you mean hopeless?”

  “She can’t add. Numbers terrify her. She has trouble working a calculator.”

  Sol tapped his pen again. “Say we were in court, and I wrote a series of numbers on a whiteboard, then asked her to add them up.”

  “She couldn’t do it. Catherine was a florist before she became mayor. She used to say the nicest thing about her new job was, she didn’t have to worry about billing customers. She was always getting the numbers wrong.”

  Sanchez gestured to his second chair. Daphne Lane began writing furiously. Sanchez said, “So the mayor was informed of the theft by someone else. So what?”

  “Don’t you find it of interest, counselor, that I’m revealing gaps in your case now? Before trial? While you still have time to correct?”

  “I stopped worrying about defense attorneys and their shoddy tactics a long time ago.”

  Sol smiled at her. “Thank you, Ms. Dalton. That will be all.”

  * * *

  Stella asked to stay. When Sanchez looked ready to argue, Sol pointed out that it was customary in court for witnesses to be granted leave to remain. The DA muttered something that Stella did not bother to hear. Sol then directed her to a chair in the corner beside Veronica. Veronica greeted her with a tight squeeze of her hand.

  It began to rain as Nicole was brought into the conference room. Stella had not even noticed the clouds gathering. The rain fell in rushing sheets, beating the windows. Stella felt as
though she was seeing Nicole for the very first time. The fifteen-year-old was certainly no child. Stella had the impression that at some level beyond logic or reason, Nicole had become an adult out of necessity. She had weathered her mother’s strange views on life and things of value by growing up far too early.

  Nicole’s face was pale and her features tight. But she did not hesitate as she crossed the room and settled into the chair Sol held. Perry Sanchez studied her with a squinted gaze. “Is this a joke?”

  Sol resumed his seat, then said to the court reporter, “Please swear her in.”

  As Stella watched the young woman go through the formalities, she had the sudden impression that this was how Nicole had confronted her mother. Frightened and weary both. Yet resolute. Possessing an iron-hard determination and an intelligence to match. Stella wished she could rush over, embrace the woman-child, and tell Nicole just how amazing she was.

  Sunlight broke through the clouds as Sol asked Nicole to state her name for the record. Droplets streaking the windows were transformed into liquid gemstones. The refracted colors painted the room in shades of hope and promise. Stella found herself thinking of their day in Tranquility Falls, watching sunlight through the liquid curtain, hearing her daughter squeal with joy, feeling the hot-cold flavor of Daniel’s lips.

  Sol asked, “How old are you, Nicole?”

  “Fifteen. Sixteen in September.”

  “You attend school, yes?”

  “Marymont High in Los Angeles until . . . recently. Now I’m studying in Miramar.”

  “You have also recently taken on a second role, have you not?”

  Sanchez broke in with, “What is this?”

  “Five minutes,” Sol replied. “Six at most.”

  “Are you actually suggesting she brings something of value to the meeting?” Sanchez gave the women to either side a look of theatrical disbelief. “Can you believe this guy?”

  “Answer the question, Nicole.”

  “I’ve been hired as a researcher,” she replied.

  Sanchez threw up his arms. “You’re telling me a high school dropout has found what professional investigators couldn’t?”