Presumption of Guilt

by Rachel Sinclair

  “That’s what I’m saying. We might have to prove it the old-fashioned way. I mean, we might or might not be able to get Lauren to testify for us. But even if she does, the prosecutors are going to be able to shoot her story full of holes. She even admitted to us that she wasn’t quite clear on whether or not her daughter had died. The prosecutors are going to be able to just show that she just imagined that and that she was having issues with her brain at that time. That that was not necessarily true. I’m sorry, I know that I am discouraging you in this. And I don’t mean to be. But I just want you to be realistic. We might not be able to prove that there was an imposter who was killed in Aria’s place.”

  I stood up, and went to my sliding glass window. I went out on the balcony, and breathed in the fresh air. In the distance, I could see a Carnival cruise ship that was docking. I thought about the people who were on the cruise, how relaxed they were. I had been on a cruise myself. It was a seven-day cruise, which was filled with food, alcohol, Vegas-style shows, casino gambling, piano bars, wave pools, live bands, the works. I had never been so happy and relaxed in my entire life. Sometimes, when I would get really stressed out, it helped me to just concentrate on those docking boats, and think about my state of mind when I was on my own cruise ship, and just go to my happy place.

  Christian was absolutely correct. There was a good chance that we would not be able to prove that it was not Aria who was killed in that guesthouse, but, rather, an imposter.

  And he was also correct that since the body had been released to Jacob and Colleen Whitmore after the autopsy had been performed, chances were excellent that they would not be able to get a legible fingerprint. Chances were that the imposter was cremated. I was going to have to try, however. That was the only thing that I could really do.

  “Okay. So let’s just say for the sake of argument that we were able to even prove that Aria was replaced with an imposter,”I said. “Then what’s a theory of the case as to who killed the imposter? After all, we aren’t going to trial on the death of Aria all those years ago. We will be going to trial on the death of the imposter. Who killed her, and why?”

  “The father. Obviously. Think about it – this new person, this imposter, had information that could ruin him. Namely, that she was not Aria Whitmore. That would be easy enough for her to prove, wouldn’t it? All she would have to do is go to the authorities and give them her fingerprint, and she could prove that she was not Aria. Jacob had to live with that knowledge all these years - that this new woman could ruin him at any time. Maybe something happened. Maybe there was some kind of a close call, where she was arrested. Or something of the sort. Or maybe she almost got arrested. You have to understand that if the imposter ever did get arrested, the jig would be up. They would take her fingerprints, and run them in the database and find out that her fingerprints did not match those of Aria’s when she was born. I mean, the whole house of cards could have come down at any moment. Jacob had to live with that. Until he didn’t.”

  I thought about what he was saying, and I realized that he was absolutely right about that. The key to this case was obviously proving that Aria was not Aria at all. At least, that would be a springboard. That still did not tell us exactly the reason why he would’ve gotten rid of the imposter, but it certainly would be a start.

  “Okay, so the first thing we’re obviously going to do is make a motion to the court to have the autopsy reopened. In the meantime, maybe you can think about trying to hack into the 23 and Me database. Obviously there was something in those test results that freaked him out thoroughly, and I wonder what it was. It was enough for him to have killed her. So it had to have been something very serious.”

  “Good thinking.”

  So, that afternoon, the first thing I did was work on that motion to have the autopsy reopened. To have the body exhumed, and dental records taken. I wondered about the wisdom of this, because, as Christian pointed out, chances were that the only dental records that we were going to be able to get ahold of would be the ones for the imposter herself. The imposter had assumed the identity of Aria at the age of 14, after all, so it stood to reason that she had been to the dentist a time or two. My only hope would be that perhaps there would be some dental records from before the age of 14, but, as Christian had pointed out, the prosecutors were going to be able to poke holes in that. But I still wanted to have it out there for the jury to hear.

  I wrote the motion, filed it online, and straightened up my desk. It was a mess, as usual. I tended to be the kind of person who would have an extremely sloppy workspace, and then, one day, all at once, I would not be able to stand the sight of it. So then I would spend several hours filing and straightening everything. I would put every pen and pencil and paper clip in their proper place. I would take all the files that were laying around my office and on top of my desk and file them away in an enormous filing cabinet that I had in an alcove in my office. And then it would start again, as the desk would get messy again, and I would do the same thing. Rinse and repeat. I wished that I was the kind of person who could just take five minutes a day to make sure that things were straight, but I just wasn’t. That wasn’t how I was wired. So be it.

  15 minutes later, Christian came into my office. His eyes were wide. His hands were shaking. In his left hand was a sheet of paper. I could see that he had test results in his hand.

  I got excited, knowing that Christian probably now knew exactly the reason why Jacob would’ve killed Aria.

  “I got Aria’s test results, for the 23 and Me that she did,” Christian said. “And you’re not gonna believe what I found.”

  I held out my hand, and he gave me the paper he had.

  I read it, and I knew exactly why he was so shocked.

  “Oh my God,” I said. “That explains a lot.”

  Chapter 28

  I was in court the very next day. Time was of the essence, because with every day that passed by, I knew that evidence was going to be more difficult to get, especially fingerprints. Because of this, the judge called an emergency hearing for us. I went up the steps to the San Diego Superior Court, which was a newish building in the downtown area. The lobby of the building had an almost open air feeling to it. The ceilings were extremely high, and there was plenty of light that streamed in from the floor to ceiling windows. My heels clicked along the terrazzo floor, and I showed my identification to the guard, who nodded his head as I walked on through. I was wearing a navy suit, with a red top, and heels that matched my top. My dark hair was in a loose bun, and I felt like I was ready to go to war.

  The prosecutor, Brent Atwood, had already called me about my motion, and he thought that I was crazy. Brent was a gangly redheaded guy, pale and freckled, which was a very bad combination to have here in sunny Southern California. I imagined that he probably did not go to the beach very often, because if he did, he would end up red as a cooked lobster. When I sent him a PDF version of my motion, he called me right away.

  “Avery, what the hell do you think you’re doing? You want to disturb a body? You know that that body had already been released to the parents, and they said their goodbyes. They had a funeral. She’s in the ground. Hell, she might have been cremated, I don’t know. The autopsy was done. And now you’re going to try and have the autopsy results reopened? I’m sorry, but I think that you’re crazy. I don’t think that Judge Warner is going to indulge your little fantasies. I think you’ve been watching too many Criminal Minds episodes or something.”

  I tried to ignore the inherent sexism in his comment. I didn’t think that he would’ve called a man crazy for wanting to have the autopsy reopened. He had to have known that there was no way that I was going to go to such a drastic step unless I really thought that there was good cause for doing it. “Listen, all I know is that I have cause to believe that the girl who was killed in that home was not Aria Whitmore. And that’s all that I can tell you.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you in court tomorrow then. But don’t be surprised if you
’re laughed out of court.”

  I sighed as I realized that he was probably correct. The judge might be inclined to call a full hearing, which would mean I would have to put Lauren on the stand. After all, she was the one who told me the story about Aria and the imposter. But, at the moment, she was in the rehab facility in the Pacific Palisades. I had called about her, giving her patient number to the person who answered the phone, and that person told me that she was resting comfortably, but she could not come to the phone because, presumably, she was not well. I knew that, when she left my house, she was relapsing.

  Without her, I really didn’t have anything. I didn’t have any reason to have the autopsy reopened.

  I called Aidan. I had hoped that maybe, if he knew something, he would tell me.

  “Yeah, sis, what’s up?” he asked me.

  “You at home?” I asked him.

  “Yeah. I am. Why? Why are you calling?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about the other day, when you blew off what I asked you to do, and then you came home and acted like such an ass. I have a hearing tomorrow on whether or not the autopsy for Aria Whitmore should be reopened. Do you have any information for me that would help me out in this regard?”

  Then he told me something I wasn’t expecting to hear. “Find out for yourself. Julian Rodriguez has been released from the hospital. I have his address. He lives in La Mesa, in a trailer park over off of Lake Murray Boulevard. I ain’t getting involved with it anymore. I don’t need this. I’m sitting for the bar, and I need to keep my job. So I’m washing my hands of this whole situation. But you can go ahead and talk to him.”

  I felt excited. “How did you find out that he was released from the hospital?” I asked him.

  “I called the behavioral health center and asked them. They know me and they told me that he had been released. Dude gave me his address when I went to see him.” When he said that, he kinda gasped, like he told me something that he probably shouldn’t have. “I mean, crap, I might as well just come clean. I saw Julian. I’m quite sure that you’re not surprised when I tell you that. But I did see him. Nice dude.”

  I drove my fingers on my wooden desk, closed my eyes, and counted to 10. “Aidan, why did you lie to me?”

  “Man, you would ask me that. Suffice to say that I was kind of freaked out by something that happened to me in the parking lot of that place. A couple of dudes jumped me, forced me into the van, and then literally took me to a warehouse in Lakeside. They didn’t hurt me, but they scared the living shit out of me. They told me that I needed to back the hell off, and if I didn’t, bad shit was going to happen to me. They told me that they knew what I did, going in there and seeing a patient who was not related to my law firm. They were going to go and tell my firm what I did, and then they were going to go to the bar and say that I behaved in an unethical manner. They told me to back the hell off, so I backed the hell off. I was afraid that you were going to make me go down there again and talk to him, and I wasn’t gonna do it. So, that’s why I lied to you.”

  “How long were you there in that warehouse?”

  “An entire day. They took me there and dumped me off and locked the fucking door. I was in there, in the dark, freaking my shit for a whole day. I slept on the concrete floor. Then they came back the next day, and that’s when they came in and threatened me.”

  “Oh my God,” I said. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.” I put my hand to my mouth and put my head on my desk. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No biggie. I just don’t want to be involved anymore.”

  “I don’t blame you,” I said.

  “Good, because my ass is in the fire on this one. No thanks to you. I’m not saying a damn word. I’m on notice. I gotta keep my nose clean. Otherwise, I’m gonna end up working at Starbucks for the rest of my damn life. If you ever want me to be a paying renter of your gorgeous condo, you’re gonna just let this one die. But you can go and see him. Or, better yet, have Regina go and see him. She can shake him down. That chick can shake anybody down.”

  “I’ll have her do that, or I will. I have an emergency hearing tomorrow, and I need for Julian to meet me at the courthouse. If the judge wants evidence on why it is that I want that body to be exhumed, I need somebody to tell the story on what they know. Lauren, Aria’s mother, is out of the question. She’s at a rehab facility. She’s not lucid anymore. But if Julian can back up the story, then I need him to tell it. Otherwise, I don’t think I’m going to get what I want, which is a reopening of the autopsy results.”

  “Nobody’s stopping you from going to see that dude. Listen, I gotta go. I got to meet up with my study group. I got a mock trial next week. Later.”

  After I hung up the phone with Aidan, I tried to get in touch with Regina, because I needed her to go and see Julian right away. Unfortunately, she, like Aidan, was busy.

  “I’m down in TJ,” she said, referring to Tijuana. “I can try to go see that dude later on, if you want. Like this evening, but I’m going to be down here for the rest of the day.”

  I put my head on my desk, wondering what the hell had compelled me to try to get an emergency hearing before I could get any witnesses lined up for it.

  No, I knew the reason why. The reason why was simple. I had to get a hearing as soon as possible, because if I didn’t, there would be less of a chance of us getting a good fingerprint.

  I checked my watch, and went out to see Sarah. Sarah was not only our receptionist, but she also was kind of an assistant to all of us. Whenever any of us needed some kind of help such as scheduling clients, or telling clients that they needed to be rescheduled, or something like that, she was our girl. I wanted my own assistant, of course, but it was difficult to have one in the situation that I was in. I only had my one office, and Christian’s office, down the hall. There really wasn’t a place to put an assistant.

  “Hold my calls, please. Also, I have a client that’s scheduled in an hour. Could you please call this person and reschedule him for tomorrow?” I had a guy coming in by the name of Bill Nadler. He was supposed to meet with me about a DUI case he had. He was going to have to wait until tomorrow. It was important I went down and saw Julian right that second.

  Chapter 29

  I got to the mobile home complex that allegedly was the home of this Julian Rodriguez person. Julian’s unit was a typical trailer. It was a single wide, not a double wide, small and white with a bay window on the front and a small porch on the side. I parked right next to the awning which was on the side of the unit, and I got out of the car and went up to the front door and knocked on it.

  Julian himself, or a guy that I imagined was Julian, opened the door. He squinted his eyes, and looked at me. “Can I help you?”

  I showed him my business card. “Hello, my name is Avery Collins. I’m representing Esme Gutierrez in her murder case. I think you might have some information for me, and I need to speak with you.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not talking to nobody about this case. Nobody no more. Sorry, amiga, I can’t say nothing. I say something, then these guys, they come back. I ain’t putting my life on the line for nobody. Sorry.”

  My heart sunk. I had a feeling that this was going to happen. “Mr. Rodriguez, with all due respect, it’s very important that I talk to you about this. I have a hearing tomorrow, an important hearing, and I need an eyewitness. You can testify that the girl who was killed in the Esme Gutierrez case was not Aria Whitmore at all, but an imposter. I know that you have information about this, and I really need for you to tell me what you know.”

  He shook his head again. “I’m not going to testify for you, I’m not going to get involved with this at all. It’s not my neck on the line. Sorry. But I will tell you this. I’ll give you the name you want. The name of the girl who took Aria’s place. Her name was Sophia Delgado. That’s all I’m going to say. And I’m not going to testify in no court. You weren’t here. You got that? You were never here. I never said a word to you. You got that?�
��

  At that, he slammed the door in my face.

  Chapter 30

  I got to the court, knowing that even though I was ready to go to war, I probably was gonna lose this one. Not only that, I had a feeling that I was going to make a fool of myself. Nonetheless, I had to try.

  “Mr. Atwood, Ms. Collins,” Judge Warner greeted both of us when we walked in to the courtroom at exactly the same time. “Come on up. I guess that we are here on a motion to reopen the autopsy of Aria Whitmore.”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” I said. “As you can see from my motion, during the original autopsy, there was not a valid identification of the body. The original autopsy did not include dental records, nor did it include fingerprints. And I would like for that to be done. Also, a DNA analysis.”

  “And why, pray tell, do you want that to be done?” Judge Warner. “I read your motion that there were some questions you have about the identification of the body. However, this was not an issue when the original autopsy was performed. Her father, and her step mother, they both positively identified the body as being Aria Whitmore. Now you’re telling me that it possibly wasn’t her?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” I said. “I have received information since the autopsy has been closed and the body has been released that has led me to believe that the person who was killed at the Whitmore home was not in fact Aria.”

  Brent was standing right next to me in front of the bar. I could tell that he was trying not to laugh. He was giving me the side eye, a sly grin on his face, and he was also shaking his head.

  The judge was leaning forward, listening to me, and then he sat back in his enormous black chair. “Mr. Atwood, I read your response to her motion, and I take it that you are opposed to this idea of reopening the autopsy. Is that right?”