Inevitable Discovery

by Melissa F. Miller

  “I’m tired of this. I want to be done with this. I want to get Sam Blank out of here, then have you checked out to make sure your cheekbone’s not shattered.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Last time I checked, you’re not a doctor. And I want to go home and play with our kids. In short, I’m not interested in diplomacy; I’m interested in efficiency.”

  Sasha sighed. This was a side that her even-tempered husband rarely displayed. But she knew from experience that when he did, there was no point in trying to cajole him out of it.

  Apparently roused by Connelly’s yelling, two uniformed police officers came running up the hallway.

  Holtzman was in the lead, followed by a dark-haired woman.

  “Stop!” Officer Holtzman commanded.

  Sasha raised her hands and waved them to show they were empty. “Officer, we met the other night when I came to get Jordana Morgan after the protest. I’m an attorney. I’m not armed.”

  Holtzman squinted at her. “Hey, cinnamon coffee.”

  She smiled. “That’s me. And you know Mr. Lewis.”

  Holtzman’s eyes shifted. He took in the handcuffs around Lewis’ wrists and squared shoulders. “Mr. Lewis, what’s going on here? Is everything all right?”

  Lewis didn’t respond at first. So Connelly gave him a shake and jolted an answer loose.

  “This gentleman is a federal agent. Apparently, my program got mixed up with one of his operations, and there’s some question about which one takes priority. We’ll get it sorted. I think, at the moment, his priority is finding Mr. Blank.” Lewis pitched his version smoothly, the consummate salesman.

  Holtzman cut his eyes toward the dark-haired woman behind him. “Officers Comford and Diamond picked him up this morning. He’s part of an active investigation. It has nothing to do with the protest, and I’m sure it has nothing to do with this federal operation you mentioned.” Behind him, Comford nodded.

  Lewis leaned toward Sasha. “Psst.”

  She gave him a sidelong glance. “What?”

  He tilted his head in the universal ‘come here’ gesture. She raised an eyebrow but leaned over.

  “Comford’s the duty officer who was here the other night. She’s skittish.”

  “What do you mean by skittish?”

  “She has an itchy trigger finger.”

  Connelly turned and glared at Lewis, who clamped his mouth shut. Sasha laced her fingers together, stretched her arms in front of her, and thought for a moment. She played it out in her mind.

  Then she locked eyes with Officer Holtzman. “Officer Comford was one of the officers who responded to the disturbance call near the bypass, right? She shot Vaughn Tabor.”

  Behind Holtzman, Comford stiffened and glanced involuntarily at the interview room to her left.

  Sasha pointed at the door. “Is Mr. Blank in that room?”

  Holtzman nodded.

  “And Kara Diamond’s in there with him?”

  “Correct.”

  “She’s protecting you, isn’t she?” Sasha addressed the woman behind Paul Holtzman.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the officer stammered.

  “Really? You panicked in the field and shot an unarmed civilian. She’s trying to help you clean it up. It’s not rocket science. I just want to know if this is some sisters in blue BS?”

  “Clean what up?” Holtzman demanded.

  “Sam Blank was in the woods that night. He saw what happened. He saw her shoot Vaughn Tabor. And without knowing any of the details of the DA’s investigation, I’ll bet Sam saw her or Diamond plant a weapon on the body. That’s why they’re so dead set on arresting Sam.”

  Comford drew her weapon and aimed at Landon Lewis. “She’s lying. She’s lying, and your program screwed up. Sam Blank is a homeless degenerate. He’s exposed himself. He’s got vagrancy and trespassing complaints. And your useless AI program didn’t flag him. This is your fault.” Her hand trembled.

  Connelly noticed, too. He pulled his gun from his shoulder holster and leveled it at Comford. Holtzman rested his hand on the butt of his gun.

  Sasha had a vision of a shootout like the ones in the black-and-white cowboy movies her grandfather used to watch. “Hold on. Everybody just calm down,” she said in the voice she used when Fiona or Finn started to spiral out of control. “Let’s just take a breath and talk about this.”

  Holtzman’s fingers relaxed, and Connelly lowered his weapon. Comford was still shaking, but she nodded and holstered her gun, too.

  Sasha exhaled, a wave of relief crashing over her. And that’s when the interview room swung open to reveal Kara Diamond standing in the doorway in a classic shooting stance with her weapon drawn.

  “Comford’s right, you know, Landon. All you needed to do was identify Blank as a danger. Then we could’ve kept them in detention indefinitely. This is your fault.”

  Diamond’s finger twitched, and Sasha didn’t have time to think. She dove at Landon, pushing him hard. He landed on the floor with a thud, and she threw herself on top of him as the bullet tore through the air above their heads and pierced the wall.

  Holtzman turned and started shouting at Diamond. “Drop it, drop it!”

  She engaged the safety and placed the gun on the floor.

  “Kick it over here!”

  She did. Holtzman picked up the weapon one-fingered, and Connelly covered Comford while Paul Holtzman handcuffed his direct superior. Then, ashen-faced, he took Comford’s service piece and cuffed her, as well.

  Connelly crouched beside Sasha. “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head no. Her heart was thumping too fast. She couldn’t speak. He helped her to her feet.

  “What about him?” she managed, nodding toward Lewis, who was curled into the fetal position, shaking. “You could probably uncuff him now.”

  He returned to the floor and worked the key to release the handcuffs.

  “Thank you,” Lewis said as he made his way to his feet and dusted off his suit.

  “Don’t thank me, thank Sasha. I probably would’ve let Diamond shoot you, personally.”

  Lewis studied Sasha gravely. “Thank you.” After a moment, he said, “This is going to be an unholy mess. Everyone’s going to sue everyone, and PPC is going to have to lawyer up. So I’ll deny saying this later, but Cesare was never intended to be used this way.”

  She was about to tell him all about good intentions and how the roads to hell are paved. Before she had the chance, Will, Charlie, and Naya ran in from the lobby.

  “Is everybody okay?” Naya asked.

  Connelly nodded.

  “Who fired their weapon?” Will wanted to know.

  “Officer Diamond,” Connelly answered. “She tried to take out Lewis. Sasha probably saved his life.”

  She smiled weakly. “Will, could you and Charlie go get Sam. He’s in that interview room.” She turned toward Holtzman. “I assume you’re going to release him into our custody?”

  He nodded briskly.

  38

  Friday, November 22, 2019

  mid-afternoon

  * * *

  Sasha mounted the steps to the library slowly, rehearsing what she planned to say. The campus was mostly deserted, with most of the students scattered to their hometowns for the upcoming Thanksgiving break. And the library was no exception. The clack of her shoes striking the highly polished floor echoed in the cavernous empty building. There were no students at the gleaming chestnut tables. No students sitting at the carrels ringing the perimeter of the study space. The place was a ghost town.

  She approached the circulation desk.

  “Can I help you?” Patrick’s son asked.

  She stared at him for a long moment.

  “Ma’am?” he gave her a puzzled look.

  Lord, but he looked like Patrick.

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth, then she exhaled shakily. “Are you Matthew McManus?” She wondered if he heard the tremor in her voice.
>
  He nodded. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  He frowned uneasily. “I don’t understand.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  She plunged forward. “I’m your aunt. My name’s Sasha McCandless-Connelly.”

  He shook his head. “No, my parents are both only children. You must have me confused with somebody else.”

  “Your mom, Allie, was my college roommate my freshman and sophomore years. My older brother Patrick had a relationship with her. You’re my brother’s son.”

  His nostrils flared and his color rose. “Look, lady, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but my dad’s name is Devon McManus.”

  She reached into her bag and took out the newspaper clipping of Patrick at the state baseball championship. She rested it on the desk. “No, Matthew. Your dad’s name was Patrick McCandless. He died twenty years ago, when your mom was pregnant with you. Look.” She tapped the picture.

  “You need to leave. I’ll call security.”

  “I’m going. My business card’s clipped to the article. You should call your mom and ask her if I’m telling the truth. I also wrote your grandparents’ address on my card. If you’re staying in town for Thanksgiving, you’re welcome to join us for dinner on Thursday. We eat at six.”

  She turned and walked out of the library, her legs shaking. When she reached the car, she sank into the passenger seat and closed her eyes.

  Connelly looked over at her. “How’d it go?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “But you did it.”

  “I did it.”

  He leaned across the console and kissed her gently. She kissed him back with an urgency that surprised her.

  He started the engine. “Do you want me to drop you at work?”

  “How long did my parents say they could keep the kids?”

  “As long as we want. They’re helping grandma make a cornucopia for the centerpiece next week.”

  A slow smile spread across her face. “In that case, why don’t we go back to the house.”

  “In the middle of the workday, Ms. McCandless-Connelly?”

  “The work’ll still be there on Monday. I mean, unless you have somewhere else you’d rather be?”

  In response, he gunned the engine and zipped out of the parking spot.

  She called into the office on the way back to the house to check messages.

  Caroline read her a list of calls that could definitely wait to be returned until after she and Connelly had taken advantage of the empty house.

  “Oh, and the copy service called,” Caroline added.

  “Okay?”

  “They need prior authorization to pull the files Naya requested from the court docket. They’re billed to the pro bono number, and you’re listed as the responsible attorney.”

  “Go ahead and authorize it.”

  “There are a lot of files.”

  “It’s fine,” Sasha assured her.

  “Okay,” Caroline said dubiously. “Are e-copies okay?”

  Sasha groaned inwardly. “Let’s splurge on hard copies.”

  “You need to get your vision checked again,” Caroline mother-henned her.

  “Duly noted.”

  Sasha ended the call as Connelly pulled into the driveway and gave her that look. Thoughts of reading glasses and court motions fell out of her head entirely.

  39

  Tuesday, November 26, 2019

  * * *

  Sasha was reviewing her statement for Milltown’s hastily created Civilian Review Board when Naya knocked lightly on her door and pushed it open.

  “Special delivery,” she sing-songed as she walked into the room with an armload of files.

  “Wait, what’s all this?”

  Naya dumped the mountain of files on the corner of Sasha’s desk. “Did you or did you not request copies of all cases filed by the Milltown District Attorney in the past ten years in which the prosecution moved to admit evidence under the inevitable discovery exception to the exclusionary rule?”

  She stared at the thick pile of folders. “All of these?”

  “Oh, no. This is just the tip of the iceberg.” Naya leaned out into the hallway and called, “Bring them in, Jordana.”

  Jordana wheeled in a hand truck loaded down with Bankers boxes and parked it in the middle of the office. “Why did you order hard copies? You know you could’ve just had them imaged, right?”

  “Ask me again when you’re about to turn forty. The print just keeps getting smaller.” Sasha told her.

  She gaped at the boxes then narrowed her eyes at Naya. “Is this your idea of a joke?”

  Naya shook her head. “Sorry, Mac. Careful what you wish for, I guess. I know what you’re doing over the holiday weekend.”

  “The holiday weekend? More like, until the twins graduate high school. This is unreal. So, they just violated the Fourth Amendment willy-nilly.” She shook her head at the tower of boxes.

  “I’ll help you,” Jordana offered. “It’s the least I can do for the woman who’s bringing Vaughn Tabor’s killer to justice.”

  Sasha surveyed the boxes. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  Naya laughed. “You better say yes before she comes to her senses. What’s going on with Lewis and the PPC?”

  “He’s entering into a consent decree with the Justice Department. He’s agreed to mothball the PPC. But he still thinks Cesare is viable AI. Now he wants to use it to weed out bad cops.”

  Naya studied her. “You don’t think that’s a better use for it?”

  “No, I don’t. Any program, even one capable of learning, has to be created by a human who has human biases. We understand that people are biased, but we expect machines to be impartial. It’s too dangerous. I think Lewis had good intentions. It’s just a terrible idea.”

  “But we should be weeding out dirty cops,” Jordana protested.

  “I agree. And we should be preventing crimes. But an algorithm isn’t the way to do it,” Sasha said. “It’d be as wrong to make those determinations about law enforcement officers as it was to make them about so-called latent criminals. You can’t pre-judge people that way, Jordana. Or, at least you shouldn’t.”

  Jordana looked doubtful. “I’m not sure I agree.”

  “And that’s fine. You don’t have to. But if you’re really willing to help me dig through these files. I’d appreciate the help. If they show what I think they’re going to show, the Vaughn Tabor shooting and the attempt to railroad Sam Blank are literally only the very beginning of the story. I think the Milltown PD has been slowly rotting from the inside for a long time.”

  “Gee, I’d offer to give the two of you a hand, but I talked Carl into a getaway. We’re going down to the Outer Banks next week for a little out of season beach trip,” Naya said in a tone that screamed sorry, not sorry.

  “A whole week under Carl’s watchful eye. How are you going to sneak your sugar?”

  Naya gave her a look. “Please. As if I didn’t already think about that. The house I rented is directly across the street from a Duck Donuts. I’m going to be taking a lot of walks.”

  Sasha smiled.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Sounds like a plan.”

  Carl had confided to Connelly that he knew Naya was still indulging in sugar. As long as she kept pretending she wasn’t, he was going to make her jump through the hoops. Sasha wasn’t sure who was getting over on whom at this point.

  “Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?” Jordana asked Sasha.

  “We’ll go to my parents’ place.”

  “Will all your relatives be there?”

  Would they?

  “Maybe.”

  “Nice. I’m boycotting the holiday. My mom’s ticked, but I can’t celebrate what the Pilgrims did to the indigenous peoples,” Jordana explained. “Maybe I’ll get a jump start on those files while you’re stuffing your faces with turkey.”

  “Have at it, my
friend,” Sasha responded.

  40

  Thursday, November 28, 2019

  Thanksgiving Day

  * * *

  Sasha’s parents’ house was full of people, food, and noise. Her dad and brothers were gathered around the television in the living room watching the football game. Connelly and the older kids were playing a game of Clue in the den. And her sisters-in-law and mom were bustling around the kitchen. She felt a little lost.

  She wandered into the sunroom where Daniella, Julian, and the twins were making felt turkeys. She watched for a bit as Daniella tried to help the little ones with the scissors. Predictably, Fiona rejected any assistance and had the crooked, but independently created, turkey to show for it.

  “Hi, Aunt Sasha,” Daniella chirped.

  “Hi, kiddo. Your mom told me you’re a vegan.”

  “Uh-huh?” She looked up with concern, as if maybe Sasha was going to mock her nascent rebellion.

  “Well, I made a dessert especially for you. It’s a vegan pumpkin cheesecake.”

  Her eyes shined. “You did? For me?”

  “Yep.”

  Finn and Fiona exchanged a look. She knew what they were thinking. She didn’t do a lot of baking, and it hardly seemed fair that she’d made something special for their cousin, but not for them.

  “We’re vegans, too,” Finn informed her.

  “Oh, really? Well, it’s a pretty big cheesecake. I think there’s plenty for everyone. And I baked a pumpkin pie for anybody who isn’t a vegan.”

  Satisfied, the twins returned to their turkeys. Sasha made her way to the kitchen to see if she could lend a hand. As usual, her mother, Riley, and Jordan shooed her away from the stove and suggested she set the table. Fine by her. She was folding linen napkins in the dining room when the doorbell rang.

  Her mom poked her head out from the kitchen.

  “Did I just hear the door? Everybody’s here.”

  Sasha shrugged and kept folding napkins. A moment later, the doorbell rang again. She sighed and abandoned the stack of linens.