He nodded his head, and then he broke out in a huge grin. “You might say that. I mean, reopening an autopsy is highly irregular to begin with. In fact, I don’t think that it’s ever been done. At least not in my 10 years of prosecuting cases has it ever been done. I don’t know what kind of information Ms. Collins is referring to when she says that she got information that led her to believe that the person who died in this case was not in fact Aria Whitmore. She hasn’t told me what kind of information she has.”
I felt uncomfortable. “That’s true. I haven’t told him anything. But I have a witness who would be able to testify that Aria died years ago. She was replaced by an imposter by the name of Sophia Delgado, and Sophia is the woman who passed away in this case, not Aria.”
I looked up at the judge, and I could tell that he was rapidly losing patience. “Who is this witness that you are talking about?” he asked.
“Aria’s mother. Her birth mother. Her name is Lauren Whitmore, and she’s the one who told me what had happened.”
“And this Lauren Whitmore would be able to testify?” the judge asked.
I looked down at the floor. “ I, um…”
Right at that moment, I got the surprise of my life.
Regina was coming through the door, and with her was a most welcome face.
Lauren was with her.
Chapter 31
“As a matter of fact, I do have a witness. And she’s ready to testify at this hearing today.” I looked over at Lauren, and she smiled and nodded at me. I took that to mean that she was feeling good that day. That she was lucid.
Judge Warner looked over at Brent. “Do you have any objections to this witness testifying today?” he asked him.
“ Yes, as a matter fact I do have an objection,” Brent said. “This witness was just sprung upon me right now. I don’t know who this witness is. I have not had any kind of discovery related to this entire thing, and I have not had a chance to do any kind of background review on this witness. With all due respect, Ms. Collins can’t just spring a witness here to testify. Ms. Collins just filed this motion yesterday, and here we are today in a hearing already on the matter. I understand the exigent circumstances surrounding Ms. Collins’ request, but I must object to her bringing in a witness before I’ve had the chance to prepare.”
Judge Warner nodded his head. “He makes a point. Nonetheless, as even Mr. Atwood acknowledges, time is of the essence with this situation. The longer we delay this, the more likely it will be that the body will be in such a state of decomposition that the fingerprints might not be legible any longer. Now I understand that you have not had time to prepare for this hearing, but I must tell you, I’m inclined to grant Ms. Collins’ request. I would like to hear from this witness, and see what she has to say. I believe that both sides should have a thorough examination, and have all the evidence that they need to go to trial. And if there is a chance that the body who was identified as Aria Whitmore is not her, then I need to know that. That’s a very important part of this case. But I would like to hear this witness’ testimony.”
I looked over at Brent, and he was not smiling any longer. He realized that the judge took me seriously, and that he was probably going to lose.
He finally just shrugged his shoulders. “Well then let’s get on with it.”
I took a deep breath and called Lauren to the stand.
I went through a direct examination of her, and she told the court what it is that she told me. She admitted on the stand that she was mentally ill at the time, and that her memory was a bit hazy on everything, but that she knew that when she got out of the mental hospital and tried to go home that the girl that she saw at that house was not her daughter. Her neighbors tried to tell her that that was her daughter, that she had plastic surgery after getting into an accident in Mexico, but she knew better.
“I’m a mom, I know my daughter. And I know when somebody is trying to pretend to be my daughter. This girl, she sounded like her, she looked like her, but she wasn’t her. I could tell just by looking into her eyes.”
Her testimony lasted about an hour, and then it was time for the cross-examination. I knew that Brent was going to have a field day with this one, and I was not far wrong.
“So, you admitted on direct examination that you literally had just gotten out of the mental institution, when you went home and saw the girl who you thought was not your daughter. Is that right?” Brent demanded.
“Yes, that’s right.” She nodded her head. “I’m not going to lie about my problems. I definitely was suffering from a mental breakdown during that time. I mean, I had gotten out of the hospital, but I still was suffering from delusions.”
“So then you will admit that there is a possibility that you were having another delusion when you thought that you saw a girl who was not your daughter. Isn’t that right?”
She nodded her head. “Yes. There is that possibility. As I said, I’m very hazy about this entire thing. I still am. I’m still very confused about it. Who wouldn’t be? It was during the worst time in my entire life. My daughter was dead. My husband claimed that my son did it. And then I go home and I see a girl who was claiming to be my daughter. She did look like her. So yes, I was very confused. I was confused then as to what was going on, and I’m confused now. I’m not going to claim otherwise.”
“So what you’re saying is that there is the possibility that your daughter never actually died back then. You testified on direct that your husband was dosing you with LSD during this time. You testified that you thought that that was an attempt to bring on your symptoms of schizophrenia, because he knew that you were prone to it, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, I’ll admit that that is a possibility. But I don’t think so. I don’t believe that I imagined my daughter dying. I don’t believe that I imagined seeing somebody in her place. But, I don’t know for sure. I’ll admit it.”
Brent questioned her aggressively for about another half hour before he announced that he had no further questions.
She stepped down after the judge excused her.
“Okay, here’s what I’m going to do,” Judge Warner said. “I going to go ahead and reopen the autopsy. Now, I understand that this woman had hazy memories of her daughter dying, and someone else stepping in. But if there is even a chance that the victim in this case is not who we think she is, then I think that we need to know it.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” I said.
I got what I needed. Now, it was just a matter of finding out if the evidence was going to be good enough to be dispositive in this case. I needed it to show that the victim in this case was not Aria. And then, from there, I would be able to put together my theory of the case.
Two days later, I got the results back from the reopened autopsy. It was unsuccessful. Apparently, the body had been cremated. Just recently. Originally, Sophia’s body was buried in a casket, in the ground. But, just two days ago, unbeknownst to Judge Warner or Brent, the body was exhumed and cremated.
The body had been released to Jacob, so it was within his rights to do things that way. But why? Why now, after people had started digging and threatening my brother, who was getting too close to the truth? Was the timing a coincidence?
No. There were no coincidences. At least, not ones this major.
Somebody was covering this up. Somebody knew that I was going to ask to reopen the autopsy, and that somebody made sure that that didn’t happen.
I sighed. My work was going to be cut out for me, that was for sure.
Chapter 32
September 5. The day of trial.
I was nervous about going to trial. Even though I had my theory on the case, and I was fairly certain about what had happened, whether or not I was going to be able to prove it was going to be another matter entirely.
My client’s life depended on it.
Literally.
What made me really nervous was the fact that the media glare was as bright as it had ever been. I had been watc
hing the news and saw the reporters who were down at the courthouse. I also saw the throngs of people who were lining the courthouse steps. I was nervous, because I didn’t know what they were going to do to me. I knew that there were still quite a few people who were using this case as a cudgel and using Esme as a scapegoat and as a stand-in for all immigrants south of the border. I knew that there was one person in particular, Grayson Wright, who was really getting people riled up. He had come to my attention when Regina told me about him.
“Dude’s really whacked. He’s like some kind a cult leader, like a Manson or something. He’s got these people who follow him around like The Dead. I don’t know, man, he’s a scary cat, that Grayson. You better just be careful.”
I knew what she was saying. I was still getting death threats, just not as many as there used to be.
But this Grayson character, he concerned me. He was apparently on satellite radio, had a show for three hours a day, and I listened to this show on demand. Regina was not far wrong. This guy was really wacked. He was hateful, bigoted, ignorant, and just plain wrong. Worse, he was apparently whipping people up against me and my client.
Nonetheless, I knew that I had to do what I needed to do. My client needed me. I had all the information I needed to go to trial. That’s all I really knew at that time.
That morning, I packed up my plastic box that was filled with my files. I dressed in my gray pantsuit, black heels, and a navy blue button down. I came into the living room, after taking one last look at myself, and Aidan was in the living room on the couch.
“You ready?” he asked me.
“That a trick question?” I asked him.
“No. That’s not a trick question. Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
I went out the front door, after saying goodbye to Aidan, and took the elevator down, all the way to my car in the basement garage. I got out my fob, and clicked it to unlock the car.
I had the distinct impression that someone was following me. I looked around, before I got into the car. Then I got in the driver’s seat, and started the car up.
I looked in my rearview mirror, and I screamed.
There was a man back there.
He had a knife.
Chapter 33
“Who are you?” I demanded. I looked at his knife, and I looked over at the glove compartment of my car. I had a gun in that compartment. I just had to figure out if I could reach for that gun before this guy slit my throat.
“We’ve been warning you,” the guy said. “We’ve been sending you messages on your email about this case. You don’t know who you are dealing with here. You have a client who’s as guilty as the day is long, and you’ve been warned to get off her case. Now today is the day of trial, and I can’t let you go in there and defend her. I can’t let you go in there and present evidence that she’s innocent, when she’s clearly not. If you do that, that illegal spic is going to walk scot-free, and then every other illegal spic who comes over here are going to think that they can get away with murder, too. And I can’t let that happen.”
I knew that it was going to be pointless to try to argue with this guy. He obviously had it in his head that Esme was guilty, no matter what. He was not going to wait for the facts to come in, he was not going to wait for the jury to come in, or anything like that. No, he was judge, jury, and executioner. So talking to him rationally, telling him that he needed to wait until the trial was over to decide if she was guilty or not, was not going to do anything.
“Listen, I have a job to do,” I said. “And that’s it. No more, or no less than any kind of job that you do. I have a client, her trial starts today, and nothing that you do is going to prevent me from going to do my job.” I looked at his knife and saw that his hand was shaking as he held it. I had been to prison, so I knew when a person was serious about threatening someone’s life. You could just tell in their eyes and by their body language, if they’re going to do it.
And this guy was not going to do it.
His eyes got wide, and his face got red. “You’re going to withdraw from her case! If you don’t do it, you’re going to die right here, right now. Do you understand me? You’re going to die, bitch.”
“Do you happen to listen to a guy on the satellite radio by the name of Grayson Wright?” I asked him calmly. “Is this guy your hero, by any chance?”
That was the only thing that I thought to say. I was going to try to make some small talk with this guy, and maybe bring him back to reality. I could tell just by looking in his eyes that he might’ve been on something. Some kind of drug.
Then again, maybe he was just not living in reality.
Kinda like Lauren, but violent.
“What of it? Grayson Wright, he knows what he’s talking about. He knows what kind of destruction those immigrants have brought to our country. They don’t belong here. They don’t belong here, and neither do you. Esme needs to go back to where she came from, and I think that you need to go with her.”
“Go? You want me to go to El Salvador? Do you know how silly that sounds? Why would I do something like that? Besides, I thought you were going to kill me. I can’t very well go down to El Salvador if I’m dead.”
At this point, I was positive that he wasn’t going to hurt me.
“Please leave,” I said. “Or I’m going to call the cops. I’m going to call the cops, and tell them that you’re threatening me, and then you’ll be arrested. However, if you just leave right now, I will not call the cops. It’s your choice.”
He glared at me, but he opened the door, and got out. Then he stared at me through the window, trying to look at me as menacing as possible. I just shook my head, and drove off.
I thought about calling the cops about the weird guy, then thought better of it. I needed to be in court at 9. I couldn’t take the time to make a report about this, especially since this guy was probably long gone. I decided just to leave it alone.
I had to say that that was a weird scenario, but nothing about this case had exactly been normal. It wasn’t just the fact that the media was crawling all over this, and that people were passionate on both sides. Yes, there were plenty of people who wrote me death threat emails and really screamed about me on the air. But there were plenty of others on the other side, who were counteracting all of that. They were supportive of Esme, and supportive of me. They were people who were immigrant’s rights advocates, people who were refugees themselves, people who were just goodhearted. A lot about this case had made me lose some hope in humanity, but, mainly, a lot of the people who were involved in this case made me realize that the good people far outnumbered the bad.
I got to the courthouse, and there were throngs of people in front of it. I parked in a parking lot across the street, where I had to pay $10 to park all day. Then, when I got closer to the courthouse, I saw the people. I hoped that they would not recognize me, but, then again, I figured that I probably stuck out like a sore thumb. After all, I was carrying my file box behind me on a wheeled cart. Not that I was the only attorney who was doing that, not by a long shot. On any given day, there were several different trials going on, which meant that there were always quite a few attorneys who, like me, were hauling their files on a wheeled cart behind them.
But my mug had been plastered online, all during this case. So I knew that the people were going to recognize me.
Satellite trucks were lined up on the street, and I saw that there were quite a few people who were talking into microphones, as if they were reporters. Several reporters tried to get a statement from me, but I refused to talk to any of them. And quite a few people started screaming at me, screaming various cuss words and vile names. I heard every word in the book, and every name as well.
But the cops were down there, some of them in riot gear. They were to keep everybody in line, so I realized that I probably was safe.
I got up to the steps, went through the glass doors, showed my card, and went through the lobby. I got to the elev
ators, and went to the eighth floor. There, Christian was already waiting for me, with Esme.
Esme was dressed in a maroon shirt that was silk, and some black pants. She had a gold necklace on, and small pearl earrings. She also had a bracelet on. Her blonde hair was tucked neatly up in a bun, and she looked like a housewife. That was by design. I had met with her many times over the past few months, going over the case and all the developments. And I made sure that she was dressed in nice clothes.
She looked nervous. “Do you think he’s here?” she asked. I knew who she was talking about. Jacob. She was terrified of him, especially after I told her what I found out about him. One thing I knew, Jacob was going to be my star witness. He was actually on both witness lists – mine, and the prosecutors. I knew that the prosecutors were going to simply ask him questions about Esme, and about finding his daughter in the guesthouse. He was their star witness, as well. But, for me, the questions that I was going to ask him were questions that were going to decide the fate of the case.
After I got the 23 and Me results from Christian, I had a pretty good idea as to what happened. And some other facts had also come to light about Sophia, and what she knew. I found out some very interesting facts about her as well. Once I put everything together, I had a pretty good theory of the case, and who did it and why. The only question I had in my mind, of course, was whether or not I was going to be able to prove it. Not that I had to prove anything. Obviously – the state always had the burden of proof in any trial. They had to prove their case beyond a reasonable doubt. Yet, I also knew the reality of the situation. And that was that the jury was going to convict if they have a person in front of them, unless the defense did a damned good job of showing that the person didn’t do it. And that was my goal. That was my job. I didn’t have to prove anything, but yet I did. And I knew that.
Presumption of Guilt Page 19
