A Killer's Wife (Desert Plains)

by Victor Methos

  Jarvis pursed his lips but didn’t say anything.

  “Now, Dr. Jarvis, are you aware there are sixteen different errors in your report?”

  Jarvis sighed. “No, Counselor, I am not. Though I’m sure you’re about to explain them to me.”

  69

  In the evening after court, Baldwin, Tim, Yardley, and Lieu decided to have dinner. It was well past eight, and they had missed dinner with their families. This would be the first time Yardley had ever eaten a meal with her boss.

  The Italian restaurant was nearly empty, and they sat at a booth in the corner. They chatted a bit about inconsequential matters, Yardley remaining quiet while they discussed some college football game. After the breadsticks but before the meals came, Lieu said, “It’s not going well.”

  “It’s about what we expected,” Tim said.

  “No, it’s not. He’s making your witnesses look like idiots, Tim.” He paused. “It may have been a mistake to let you first chair this.”

  “How can you say that? I have more convictions than anyone—”

  “Cut the bullshit. We both know you take the easy cases to trial and decline or deal on everything else.” Lieu leaned back in his seat. “He didn’t dispute a single thing Dr. Jarvis said, but he made him look like a money-hungry, biased liar who doesn’t know when there’s mistakes in his own reports. He did that specifically to make you look bad, not Dr. Jarvis.” Lieu looked at Yardley and Baldwin. “Do you agree?”

  “Yes,” Baldwin said. “We’re losing.”

  Tim, anger rising in his voice, said, “Hey, I’m not going to sit here and be attacked for a case that I didn’t want and that was thrown in my lap at the last minute, that Jessica didn’t prep properly and didn’t fully brief me on. I can only go to war with what I have, and I didn’t have squat.”

  “There’s no use assigning blame,” Yardley said. “The point is to fix it.” She looked to Baldwin. “When do we know about the bite marks?”

  “Dentist is flying out day after tomorrow for the comparison. He says he can have a report ready a few hours after that.”

  “See,” Tim said. “The teeth are the primary evidence. Doesn’t matter how incompetent the witnesses look up there. He has no explanation for his teeth marks being in the victim’s bone.”

  “I think—” Lieu stopped suddenly as his phone buzzed. A moment later, Tim’s rang. Yardley glanced at the number on his screen: it was the court clerk.

  Judge Aggbi had called an emergency meeting at the courthouse. Marshals were brought in to open the building and provide security. When Yardley, Lieu, Tim, and Baldwin arrived, a marshal informed them that Wesley was already there and waiting for them outside the judge’s chambers.

  “You ever had this happen?” Baldwin asked Lieu.

  “Never. Whatever it is, even an emergency, can usually wait until morning.”

  Outside the judge’s chambers, Wesley sat on a wooden bench next to an obese man in a slick pinstripe suit with bright rings on several fingers. His silver beard was neatly trimmed, and his dark eyes followed the four of them with disdain. A marshal stood on either side of the two men.

  One marshal poked his head into the judge’s chambers and said, “Everyone’s here, Judge.”

  They filed into the large room. Lieu and Tim sat in the two chairs across from the judge. Wesley sat in the corner, and a chair was brought in for the large man and pushed up to the side of the judge’s desk. Yardley and Baldwin stood in the back of the room.

  Judge Aggbi wore a suit but no robe. She folded her arms, and Yardley could see anger clearly written on her face.

  “Your Honor,” Lieu said, “I hope that everything—”

  “Quiet, Mr. Lieu.” She looked to Wesley and said, “Would you please introduce your associate, Mr. Paul?”

  “Certainly,” he said, his hands shackled and lying limply in his lap. “This is Mr. Wehr Parker. He is and has been my private investigator for years, and I work with him extensively at the Guardian ad Litem’s Office. Mr. Parker, would you please inform them why we’re here?”

  The large man tossed some papers on the desk. “Those are phone records for a Mr. Dominic Hill,” he said in a deep voice. “You’ll notice the circled call was during the lunch break today to Mr. Jeffries here.”

  Tim’s face had gone completely white. Yardley could see his fingers dig into the armrests of the chair. Lieu didn’t notice and said, “I still don’t see why this couldn’t wait until morning.”

  The judge said loudly, “Please bring him in, Marshal.”

  The door behind the judge opened, and the marshal led in Dominic Hill. He stood there calmly and looked at everyone in the room.

  “Please tell them why we’re here, Mr. Hill,” Aggbi said.

  He looked at Tim. “I called Mr. Jeffries today and told him I had important information about Wesley Paul and this trial. He agreed to meet with me today at a coffee shop. He didn’t want to meet at his office.”

  Judge Aggbi could barely contain herself. She alternated her gaze between Tim and Yardley and said, “And so you met with him alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your Honor,” Tim said, trying to smile, “I am currently drafting a motion on this very issue and planned on handing over the information to the defendant as soon as—”

  “Mr. Hill?” the judge said.

  “I told him I knew Jordan and had information on the case but that I was a registered sex offender and needed to keep my name out of it. Then I told him what I knew.”

  “And what was his response?”

  “He said that it was my lucky day and to go away and not tell anyone. That I should consider moving out of state. I called a buddy that used to be a cop, and he said to tell the court and the defense. Your clerk told me that Mr. Paul had an investigator listed as a contact, so I called him.”

  Judge Aggbi leaned forward on the desk and stared Tim in the pupils. “Did you advise this witness to abscond?”

  “Judge,” he said, his face red, his hands shaking as if he’d downed ten cups of coffee. “He’s a damn sex offender and an ex-con. You really going to believe him?”

  “I recorded our conversation,” Hill said. “Just in case. I don’t have it here, but I’ll get you a copy, Judge.”

  Aggbi’s gaze didn’t move from Tim. “Do you want to hear it, Mr. Jeffries?”

  Tim was silent a long time. “No,” he said quietly.

  Aggbi exhaled forcefully. “Ms. Yardley, did you know about this?”

  “I learned about Mr. Hill this morning, Your Honor,” Yardley said, choosing her words carefully, “and advised him to call Mr. Jeffries. But I had no idea that they’d met. I wasn’t informed.”

  “Were you going to turn his information over to the defense?” Aggbi asked Yardley.

  “I was instructed that I was not allowed to have any interaction with the evidence or witnesses in this case unless specifically ordered to do so. Whether any evidence was introduced or handed to the defense wasn’t discussed with me.”

  The judge nodded. “Mr. Jeffries, you are off this case immediately. I am filing an ethical complaint with the Nevada Bar tomorrow. I am also dismissing this case in the interests of justice for gross misconduct by the prosecution.”

  Lieu had turned red and stared at Tim like he was about to strangle him.

  “Thank you, Judge,” Wesley said with a wide smile.

  “Wait,” Yardley jumped in. “I agree Mr. Jeffries should be taken off this case. I won’t object to any of this evidence being admitted to the jury, and in fact I’ll admit it myself. But a full dismissal is unwarranted. There’s precedent that precludes a dismissal with prejudice in circumstances of ethical misconduct by the prosecution, which means we would just refile on this case at a later date. We’re nearly done with the government’s case. There’s no reason to throw all of that away. I can continue the case myself.”

  “Your Honor,” Wesley said, “what just happened here is about the worst violation I’ve e
ver seen by any prosecution agency in my nearly twenty years of practicing law. Why would Mr. Hill contact the prosecution unless he had exculpatory information about the crime I’m on trial for? For that matter, he’s admitted to knowing the victim and may be a suspect himself. And the government told him to leave the state. If this isn’t grounds for a dismissal, I don’t know what is.”

  Judge Aggbi tapped her fingers against the desk. “Ms. Yardley’s right. I’m going to remove Mr. Jeffries from the case but allow the trial to go forward.”

  “Your Honor—”

  “Mr. Paul, I understand your anger and frustration with this, but the caselaw is clear that I have discretion in how I dismiss the case. This is my decision, and I’ve made it. Please note it on the record tomorrow for purposes of appeal, and you can argue it in the Ninth Circuit.”

  “I will,” he said sternly.

  “You and your investigator can arrange an opportunity to question Mr. Hill about the information he shared with the prosecution. You’re all excused.”

  “Outside,” Lieu said through clenched teeth to Tim.

  Yardley was the last to leave, and Aggbi said, “Jessica, sit down.” She sat. “Did you know what he was going to do?”

  “Absolutely not. I met with Hill and got his information and told him to call the lead prosecutor on the case. I had no knowledge of what occurred after. I assumed Mr. Jeffries would inform the defense of the witness and ask for a continuance of the trial.” She hesitated. “They’ve tied my hands on this case, Judge. I was instructed to not touch the evidence, to not gather any more evidence, to not interact with the witnesses unless specifically asked to do so and only in a limited capacity.”

  A moment of anger rose in her, and she had to remain quiet to swallow it back down.

  “When they told me to second chair, I was informed that my job would be to hand Mr. Jeffries things during the trial, and Mr. Jeffries made clear that part of my duties were to . . . clean up the courtroom afterward.”

  Judge Aggbi’s anger faded, and a sad gentleness came over her. She leaned back in her high-backed chair and said, “My first time in court, the judge yelled at me for wearing pants. He said that women had been given enough rights already and he’d be damned if they looked like men in his court, too.” She sighed. “Well, you wanted responsibility. You have it now. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  70

  As Yardley left the judge’s chambers, she saw Wesley and two marshals waiting by the attorney-client room. Wesley said, “Just a quick word?”

  She hesitated and then went inside the attorney-client room. The marshals leaned against the wall behind Wesley, and he said, “Marshals, I’d like to talk to her in private.”

  “Can’t do it,” one of them said.

  “It’s fine,” Yardley said. “I take full responsibility. Just wait outside the door, please.”

  They glanced at each other but did what she asked. When they were alone, Wesley grinned.

  “That was fortuitous, wasn’t it? Someone who happens to know Jordan Russo and is a registered sex offender wants to talk about the case, and little Timmy tells him to leave the state.”

  “Lapse in judgment.”

  “Seems like it.” He cocked his head to the side. “You knew he would tell that witness to abscond, didn’t you? Tim isn’t one to be humiliated as badly as he would be if he lost this case, and he just figured no one needed to know about Mr. Hill. That’s why you told Hill to call him instead of just telling Tim about him, isn’t it?”

  Yardley folded her arms but said nothing. Wesley chuckled.

  “Why, Ms. Yardley, that is downright devious of you. I cannot wait to hear what it is Mr. Hill has to say about the death of Jordan Russo. It must be quite juicy. My investigator will be interviewing him tomorrow after court. I wouldn’t mind if you gave me a little preview of what he’s going to say, though.”

  Yardley looked out the windows. “I want you to sign a conflict waiver to allow me to prosecute you.”

  He laughed. “Why? Do you want to spend more time with me? I knew you still had a thing for me, even after all this.”

  She turned to him as a slight look of amusement came over her face. “Don’t you want to see if you can beat me, Wesley? Impress me with your legal acumen? Or will losing to a girl destroy that fragile little ego of yours?”

  “No need to get rude. I would happily sign a waiver. I think this will be downright fun for both of us, don’t you?”

  71

  Yardley didn’t have to do much convincing to get Lieu to step aside and give her the case. It was a win-win for him now that Tim’s unethical behavior would get media attention. If she got a conviction, he could say he’d known she was the best person for the job. If she lost, she would get the blame and be called either incompetent or complicit and still in love with Wesley.

  The bite mark analysis would be done by the next afternoon, and Yardley worried she’d have to delay the trial, but Tim had so many witnesses listed that the trial could go another three weeks before running out. She cut 90 percent of them and only kept two on the schedule for today, mostly as a placeholder until the report on the bite marks came back.

  As she sat in court, waiting for the judge to come out, she thought she should at least feel a slight pang of guilt for what she had done to Tim, but she felt nothing. She’d asked Hill to call him and not mention that they had spoken, that it would be better for him if it seemed like he was coming forward on his own.

  She’d understood Tim would do nearly anything to win this case. He wanted to be attorney general one day, or governor like his grandfather, and a loss on this case would never be erased from people’s minds. Hill’s information wasn’t exactly the exculpatory evidence Wesley hoped, but Hill was a sex offender with similar crimes in his past who knew Jordan Russo. No matter what he said on that stand, Wesley would blame him for the killing, and that might be enough to create reasonable doubt for the jury. With Tim thinking he was the only person that knew about Hill, she’d guessed he would ignore him and never tell anyone. Then Yardley planned on turning over everything she had found on Hill; Lieu would surmise that Tim had kept a potentially exculpatory witness from the defense, they would have to let the judge know, and Tim would be removed from the case. Lieu would have no choice but to let Yardley prosecute it.

  Yardley had not expected Tim to tell Hill to run. She had underestimated how much he cared about public perception. He would no doubt be sanctioned by the Bar and suspended by Lieu if not fired.

  It didn’t matter, she told herself. The only thing that mattered was protecting her daughter, and she’d done what she had to do to ensure that.

  The judge came out and gave a few preliminary instructions and read into the record the waiver of conflict signed by Wesley. When the judge was through, she asked Yardley to call her first witness.

  The first witness of the day was a nervous intern with the crime scene investigation section who took photographs and made drawings of the bodies. Yardley took longer than necessary with him because she’d noticed while he was testifying that the jury found the background of crime scene cataloging interesting.

  The next witness, who she put on after lunch, was Isabella Russo.

  “You’re Jordan Russo’s mother?”

  “Yes,” she said timidly.

  “Please tell us what you remember about your daughter’s death, Ms. Russo.”

  She swallowed and glanced at the jury but couldn’t face them. “Jordan was gorgeous. Just athletic and with a beautiful face and brunette hair that came down past her shoulders. She’d been getting the attention of men since thirteen. It always frightened me. I always told her father that we had to be extra careful with her. I knew men paid a lot of attention to her. She graduated high school early by one year, so she was going to start college in the spring, studying anthropology. Don’t know why—she just said she liked it.”

  “What was her interaction with the defendant?”

  �
�I’d seen them together twice. One time I went to pick up Jordan at the restaurant where she worked as a hostess, Telly’s over there on Bluff. She was standing outside the doors talking to him.”

  “To who?”

  She pointed to Wesley. “That man there.”

  Yardley felt the same faint hesitation she’d felt when Isabella had identified Wesley so quickly at the lineup, but she pushed past it. “Let the record reflect that Ms. Russo has identified the defendant, Wesley Paul.”

  “So reflected,” the judge said.

  “Did anything happen while you watched them, Ms. Russo?”

  “No. They were just talking and laughing. But then she walked away to come to my car, and I saw him, Wesley Paul, stare at her backside. Stare all the way to the car. And so when Jordan got in, I said, ‘Sweetie, he’s no good.’ She didn’t think anything of it. I never thought her boyfriends were good enough.”

  “When was that?”

  “Back in January of that year sometime. Maybe middle of January.”

  “When was the next time you saw them together?”

  “About a week before she was taken.” She had to stop a moment and sit quietly. “She, um, she was getting off her shift, and I told her I’d pick her up, and she said she was getting a ride with someone, but she wouldn’t tell me who. She just said it was a friend. So I went down there to make sure. You know, mother’s worry. So I went down, and I saw the two of them pulling out of the restaurant in his car. She was gone for about four hours and then came home. Wouldn’t talk about what they did or anything.”

  Yardley lifted Jordan’s journal. “Ms. Russo, do you recognize this?”

  “Yes. It’s Jordan’s journal.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Her aunt, my sister, gave it to her for her birthday one year.”

  “Do you know your daughter’s handwriting?”

  “Yes, of course.”