“Can I have a word with you and your team?” All three of us turn to see none other than Al Porter and Lexi Banks waiting at the other end of the hallway.
“This is a privileged conversation, Al,” Tom responds in a hostile tone. “I would appreciate it if you and Ms. Banks would wait for us in the courtroom.”
“Of course,” Al politely responds. And with a nod of his head, he heads back into the courtroom with Lexi at his side.
“What do you think that is about?” Tammy asks anxiously. She had grabbed onto the bars to give herself a better view of the hall. Her knuckles are now white.
Tom regains his composure. “They want to offer us a deal,” he states matter-of-factly.
“What? Why?” Tammy questions.
“Because we’re losing,” I utter quietly as the realization dawns on me.
“Look, Tammy, we’re going to go out and hear what they have to say and we’ll be back shortly.” Turning to the guard on duty, Tom commands, “Officer Bridges, make sure Tammy isn’t moved before we return.” The female guard from yesterday nods in agreement and we head back to the courtroom.
As Tom and Ethan approach the prosecution’s table, I lay my trench coat down and dig into my purse for my phone. No update from Zara.
Me: Find out anything helpful? Literally anything?
The seconds pass as I hear Lexi summarizing where things stand to Tom and Ethan. The jury has seen the 7-Eleven video showing Tammy arrive at Simon’s apartment on the night of the murder. That same video shows Simon leave forty minutes later. Only after Simon leaves does the camera show Tammy turn right off their street. They’ve heard the medical examiner describe that Kyleigh presented with enough of the indicia of strangulation for that to be ruled the cause of death.
Mercifully three dots appear on my screen.
Zara: Sorry Maeve. I got nothing. Most people weren’t home and the few that were told me to get off their lawn. Literally.
I tune back into the beautiful Ms. Banks. “But the most important thing the jury heard today was Tammy’s own cousin testify that Tammy was planning this murder months in advance. That’s premeditation a.k.a. first degree murder. Tammy will spend the rest of her life in prison.”
Me: I wouldn’t ask this if it wasn’t important. But could you do one more canvass of the neighborhood tomorrow before work? I would do it, but I have a feeling I’ll be spending all night in the office prepping Dr. Smart.
“Thanks for the recap, Ms. Banks, but I was there too,” Tom responds confidently. “And I heard a medical examiner who seemed a bit shaky on the exact cause of death. Strangulation and suffocation are the same thing? Our expert will have a field day with that tomorrow. No one denies that Tammy visited Kyleigh the night she died. So that leaves you with Brandy Lynn’s testimony painting Tammy as a concerned grandma. No harm no foul.”
Lexi smiles smugly. “Nice try, hot shot. But we wouldn’t have caught you screaming at your client just now if our case wasn’t solid.”
Tom’s face flushes red with rage. “That was a privileged conversation. I could file a complaint with the ethics committee.”
Lexi steps closer to Tom, a finger pointed in his chest. “There’s no expectation of privacy in a hallway in front of a prison guard, counselor.”
Ever the pacifist, Ethan steps between them. “Hey, now. Let’s all calm down. Lexi, you clearly have an offer you’d like to give us. Let’s hear it.”
Lexi steps back and lets Al break the news. “Second degree. We’ll recommend ten to twenty.”
Ethan and Tom exchange meaningful glances. Ten to twenty means that after she gets credit for the time she’s already been in jail waiting for trial and credit for good behavior, Tammy will most likely only serve another five years behind bars. She’d still have a life ahead of her. If the jury finds her guilty of first degree, on the other hand, she will most likely die in her cell.
In that instant, I’m certain Tom will urge Tammy to take the deal. I have to do something. “Will you give us until the start of trial tomorrow to answer?”
Four heads whip toward me questioningly.
Trying to mask the urgency in my voice, I explain, “This is a big decision for our client. She deserves the chance to sleep on it.”
Al ponders my request momentarily, before ultimately agreeing. “You have until nine a.m. tomorrow to give us your client’s decision. After that the offer is off the table.”
I turn back to my phone and plead.
Me: Please, Zara. I need something by 8:00 a.m. or Tammy takes a plea.
Chapter 33
The four hours I lay in bed last night did not give me any needed rest. Those hours were mainly spent tossing and turning while words like positional asphyxiation, adequate pulmonary ventilation, indicia of strangulation, and partial airway obstruction skated across my mind. While I had every confidence that Dr. Smart would make a great witness, I couldn’t convince myself his theory of death would sway the jury. It felt too ivory tower when compared to the State’s more relatable version of the facts. Disappointed pageant mom strangles drugged-up daughter begging for more money. A jury can wrap its head around that story. As I enter Judge Tyler’s courtroom for most likely the last time, I’ve done a pretty good job of convincing myself the plea deal is Tammy’s best option.
I take my time making my way to the defense table. The heaviness I feel in my chest is not only disappointment at our inability to secure Tammy’s acquittal, but also dread. During the last few weeks of feverish trial prep, I’d managed to push aside the memory of my last meeting with Jabba the Hutt. But the minute Tammy enters her plea, I’ll be forced to face reality for what it is. My career at Mulvaney Stewart is over. I’ll need to polish up my resume and see what other firms, if any, are desperate for a twelfth-year associate with no defined niche. The knot in my stomach tells me my options will be slim to nil.
With that uncomfortable dose of reality fresh in my mind, I mutter an unconvincing “Good morning” to Tom and Ethan. They both appear to be in similarly sullen moods. Though, while they may feel disappointment over the results of the trial for a few days, they both have successful careers to jump back into to distract them.
Tom turns to me and Ethan. He appears to be struggling to find the proper words to memorialize the moment of our defeat.
“Shaw, Ethan, you should be proud of all the work you put into this case. The only reason Tammy is getting this generous plea deal is because the prosecution is scared. They are scared the jury will believe Dr. Smart and conclude Kyleigh’s death was accidental. And they still might get that chance, but we need to be supportive of whatever decision Tammy makes now. A day in prison is a day too many for most people. And Tammy’s already served more than two years. Presented with the possibility of dying behind bars, being released in five looks very attractive.”
Ethan and I both nod somberly. We know what Tammy will choose. Hell, it’s probably what Ethan and I would choose if put in her position. We take a deep breath and prepare to take our final walk to the holding cell when my phone chimes.
Tom is instantly irritated. “Shaw, put your device on silent.”
I reach into my purse to do just that when I see a text from Zara.
I’m in a cab with Simon’s landlord. She saw him go into his apartment after Tammy left that night.
Tom has almost reached the door leading back to the holding cell with Ethan close behind. I jog after them as fast as my three-inch navy and plum heels will allow. I reach Ethan first and grab his arm.
“Stop. We need to talk. Let’s find a conference room.” I say breathlessly.
Tom spins around and demands, “What are you talking about? We have less than an hour until the prosecution’s offer expires. We need to meet with Tammy and see if she’s taking our advice to accept.”
“I’ve found another witness. Let’s hear her out before we speak with Tammy.”
Tom shakes his head, “I don’t…”
“Please,” I beg, my
hands in a prayer position.
Tom sighs heavily. “You have five minutes, Shaw.”
I ask the bailiff to point us to an available conference room, and she indicates a door next to where the jury is congregating. Once we’re all inside, I start explaining. Quickly.
“Don’t judge until you’ve heard me out, okay?”
Tom and Ethan share a beleaguered eye roll before nodding their agreement.
“Okay, I really think the best way to secure an acquittal is by casting suspicion on Simon. The life insurance policy was a huge find, but it isn’t enough if he didn’t have the opportunity to commit the crime. So yesterday when Brandy Lynn appeared, I threw a Hail Mary and asked my friend Zara to canvass the neighborhood for anyone who might have seen Simon coming home the night of the murder.”
“You what?” Ethan exclaims.
“Who’s Zara?” asks Tom confusedly.
“No interruptions,” I remind them before continuing. “Well, yesterday she struck out.”
“You’re mixing up your sports metaphors,” Ethan mumbles cattily.
“Shut up,” I warn him. “As I was saying, Zara didn’t have any luck yesterday. But I asked her to go back and conduct one more canvass this morning. It’s why I asked the prosecution to hold their offer open. Anyway, Zara found Simon’s landlord. She says she remembers Simon coming home that night. They’re on their way here.”
“Are you serious?” Ethan asks. “This is huge.” The amazement evident in his eyes fills me with a rush of pride.
Tom checks his watch. “It’s eight-twenty. We have until nine to talk with Tammy and advise the prosecution on how we will proceed. How quickly can they get here?”
Me: Are you close?
Zara: Stuck in traffic. Still 15 minutes away.
That’s cutting it too close. Okay, I need to improvise. “Let’s call them and hear what the landlord has to say. Then we can advise Tammy accordingly.”
“Good thinking, Shaw.” Tom nods. “Dial her up.”
Zara picks up on the second ring. I put her on speaker.
“Zara, I’m here with Tom and Ethan. Can you have your witness tell us what she saw that night? We need to make a strategy decision before nine o’clock.
“Okay. Her name is Fern Mott. I’ll hand you over.”
After a few seconds of ruffled static while the phone is exchanged, an elderly woman’s voice says, “Hello?”
“Hi, Fern,” I say and take a deep breath. I need to slow down so she can understand me. My natural speech pattern is a mile a minute. “We understand you have information about the night Kyleigh Sanford passed away.”
“Oh, yes,” she replies. “I remember that night well. I only live five houses down the street and I like to keep an eye on my rentals. The neighborhood isn’t what it used to be, you know. Back when my husband and I bought our place in nineteen sixty-six, the neighborhood was a quiet Polish community. Everyone took such good care of their homes and mowed their lawns. But I just don’t know about these young people these days. They’re all on drugs, if you ask me.”
Tom gives me a move this along signal.
I interrupt. “Fern, I’d love to hear more about the history of the neighborhood another time, but could you tell us about the night Kyleigh died. We don’t have much time.”
Fern makes a tsking noise to let me know she doesn’t care for being rushed, but continues. “Well, on the night that poor girl died, I heard yelling in their unit. It was around eleven, so I decided to take my dog, Mickey, for his last walk of the night and check it out. When I passed by Simon’s house, I heard loud voices and knew it was Kyleigh and her mom. I’d heard them go at it before. So, I took my time going around the block. By the time I got back home, Tammy came storming out of the house and peeled off in her car.”
Ethan gives me a “so what” shrug.
Prodding I ask, “Any chance you were still watching the house when Simon came home?”
“Why, yes, I was. Now I don’t sleep well, you know. I spend most of my nights dozing in my living room recliner watching TV. Well, around one. I hear the backfire of a car engine. I knew it was Simon’s car. My husband was a mechanic for fifty years and I told Simon to have it checked out. My guess was a cracked distributor cap, but he wouldn’t listen to me. Damn fool!”
“Wait, Ms. Mott,” I interrupt, “are you sure you heard Simon’s car outside his house around one on the night Kyleigh died?”
Irritably, Fern admonishes me, “That’s what I just told you, didn’t I?”
“How can you be sure though?” I press. “Couldn’t it have been a different car that backfired that night?”
“No, it couldn’t,” Fern snipes. “After the car woke me up, I got up to go to the bathroom. I’d had a urinary tract infection for the past three months. Antibiotics didn’t do anything. Anyway, I passed by my front window and saw Simon’s car parked outside his house.”
Jackpot. I look at Tom for confirmation, but he still looks unconvinced.
“But how can you be sure that was the same night that Kyleigh died?” Tom pushes.
“And who are you, Mister? I was talking to the nice lady.”
I hide my laugh with an unconvincing cough. “Fern, that is my boss, Tom Gaines. Would you mind answering his question?”
Fern grumbles before acquiescing, “Well, I guess. Your boss could use a lesson in manners though. Wasn’t he ever taught not to interrupt?”
I don’t even bother to hide my chuckle this time. “No, I don’t think he was. He interrupts me regularly. But his question is important.” Tom rolls his eyes dramatically.
“Well, I know it was the night Kyleigh died, because I woke up hearing ambulance sirens the next morning and I watched that poor girl being carried out on a stretcher.”
Tom can’t help himself. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Ms. Mott…”
“Again,” Fern points out.
This makes even Tom smile. “Yes, again. But why didn’t you tell the police all of this before now?”
Fern jumps on this one. “They never asked me, that’s why. I’m old, you see. And nobody respects their elders anymore. They think we’re daffy. Well, I might not be able to get around like I used to, but there’s nothing wrong with my brain.”
I cover the speaker to address Tom and Ethan. “The police reports show they only questioned a few neighbors. One of them told them they had heard shouting between Kyleigh and her mom that night. Between that and the 7-Eleven video, the police narrowed their focus to Tammy.”
Tom and Ethan nod and I uncover the speaker. “Thank you so much for talking to us, Fern. I look forward to meeting you in person very soon. Goodbye.”
I hang up and breathlessly ask, “So what do we do?”
Tom stands up straight and declares, “We tell Tammy to turn down the deal. We’re going to win this son-of-a-bitch.”
Chapter 34
Simon, wearing his orange prison garb, slouches in the witness chair picking his nails and looking disinterested. I take a deep breath to collect myself. This is the make it or break it moment, and it’s all on my shoulders. No pressure though, I think sarcastically. I push back my chair and walk over to the jury box ensuring I’ll have their attention. For better or worse.
“Good morning, Simon,” I say cheerfully. “I’d like to begin by asking you a few questions about your relationship with Kyleigh Sanford. Would that be okay?”
Simon shrugs and continues to pick at the thick black gunk lining his nails.
“You’ll have to answer audibly,” I remind him.
“Yeah, okay,” he grunts.
“Thank you. Now can you tell us how long Kyleigh and her son, Garrett, were living at your apartment?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a year?” Simon guesses. “I’m not the type to really keep track of stupid things like anniversaries,” he says, smirking.
The jury’s distaste for Simon is palpable and it’s exactly what I’m counting on. I push forward. “And Kyleigh’s son, Garre
t. Was he your son as well?”
“Ummmm, no.” He chuckles. “I’ve made it twenty-nine years without supporting any baby momma. Knock on wood,” he says while rapping his knuckles against the side of the witness box.
“Congratulations,” I say. “But speaking about potential ‘baby mommas,’” I say using air quotes for the jury’s benefit, “as you so nicely put it, you’ve had quite a few girlfriends over the years, right?”
This gets Simon’s attention. He smirks at me lustily. “Why? You want a turn?”
I give the jury an exaggerated eye roll before responding, “No, I think I’ll pass. See, I’ve had a chance to review your criminal history and noticed you’ve had quite a few arrests for domestic disputes.”
Simon’s feathers are ruffled. “That was one time and it was the other way around. She hit me. But of course when the police arrived, she started sobbing and guess who got arrested? Fucking bitch.”
Judge Tyler sits up at attention and scoots his roller chair as close to the witness box as he can. “I’ll only say this once, sir, so listen up. That language will not be tolerated in my courtroom. Understand?”
Simon slouches in his seat but nods at the judge all the same.
Judge Tyler is not satisfied. “I need you to answer orally so I can make sure we’re on the same page.”
“Yeah, okay, Jesus,” Simon agrees.
Judge Tyler still isn’t pleased, but apparently decides to not push it further. He leans back, but keeps his eyes fixed on the witness.
I walk over to the defense table and pick up a copy of Simon’s criminal history from Tom. He gives me an encouraging smile as he hands it over. “Come now, Simon. I think you’re being modest. By my count there are, one, two, three, no four separate arrests for domestic assault here. Do you really expect us to believe you were always the victim? A big strong man like you?”
Simon mutters incoherently, but the point has been made. “Let’s move on,” I concede. “What can you tell us about the day Kyleigh died?”
Simon lets out a long sigh as if the subject of his former girlfriend’s death has grown tiresome. “There’s not much to tell. It was a normal day. I do remember the baby wouldn’t shut up. Cried all…damn…day. I finally told Ky she needed to do something about him. I couldn’t get any sleep. She said she would call her ma for money to take him to the doctor. She thought he had some kind of infection. Her mom was supposed to show up around eleven, so I took off just before that. I couldn’t stand that bitch. Still can’t for that matter,” he says as he gives Tammy a leering smile.
Darkness Drops Again Page 19
