Stone Cold

by Joel Goldman

  “That’s good,” Claire said. “Then what happened?”

  Alex took a breath. “We were in the living room, just the two of us. Dwayne was doing his big, bad, sexy beast bullshit shtick, showing me his gun and making everything a sexual innuendo. I asked him how stupid he thought he was possessing a gun in violation of his bond.”

  “How did he take that?”

  “Not well. He accused me of coming to his house and disrespecting him. He told me that Wilfred Donaire had disrespected him too, so I better watch what I said.”

  “How did you react to that?”

  “I was scared but I tried not to show it. That’s when I told him I had to withdraw because he’d threatened Bonnie. And I told him that the police were protecting Bonnie and that if he came near her, they’d stop him.”

  “What did Dwayne say in response to that?”

  “He started pressing me about why did I care so much about what happened to Bonnie, and I guess he figured out from my reaction that we were together.”

  “What happened next?” Claire asked.

  Alex shook her head, her jaw tight. “He said, ‘How long you been diving into that muff?’ and I told him that I wasn’t going to talk about my relationship with Bonnie. That’s when he pulled out his gun and said that if he couldn’t get to Bonnie, he’d have to settle for me. So I shot him, twice. He fired his gun as he was falling to the floor.” She paused, taking a deep breath, her eyes wet. “I must have been in a state of shock, because the next thing I remember is Rossi yelling at me to put my gun down. I dropped my gun and that’s when Odyessy shot me. I slumped down against the wall and that’s when I realized Odyessy was holding Dwayne’s head in her lap and that he was dead.”

  Claire waited a moment. “Is that everything?”

  “Yes. Just like I told you every time before.”

  Claire glanced at Kate, who had stared at Alex throughout her recitation.

  “Oh,” Alex said as she stood, “now you’re asking Kate if I’m telling the truth? Is this trial prep or an inquisition?”

  “Alex!” Claire snapped. “You know—”

  “That’s okay,” Kate said. “It’s trial prep and, trust me, Ortiz’s cross-examination will be your own personal inquisition. For what it’s worth, I think you’re telling the truth. You’re filled with shame and guilt, but I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

  Alex shrugged her shoulders, then let them sag, as if she’d put down a heavy burden, and took a deep breath, letting it out. She stood without saying anything for a moment.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?” Kate asked.

  “For believing me.”

  “I told you I was on your side.”

  “And now I believe you.”

  “At least,” Lou said, “now we know why Ortiz pulled the plea bargain off the table.”

  “Except for one thing,” Claire said. “In the bench conference we had Monday morning, he told the judge that he didn’t know where Gloria was or what she was going to say.”

  “But he had a good guess, and that means he had to have at least known that she was in the house when Alex shot Dwayne.”

  “Or,” Blues said, “that she could have been.”

  “What are you getting at?” Claire asked.

  “It’s simple. If Ortiz knew she’d been in the house some other time, there was a chance she was there that day. And the closer to the day of the shooting she was there, the more likely she was also there that day.”

  “I’m with you,” Lou said. “So who was she hanging out with? Odyessy or Dwayne?”

  “My money’s on Dwayne,” Blues said. “Odyessy isn’t much of an attraction.”

  “So,” Claire said, “if she was with Dwayne, she probably knows whether he killed Kyrie Chapman and the Hendersons.”

  “If you’re right, you better hope Gloria pulled the trigger, because otherwise the jury might just believe her,” Kate said.

  “Are you guys trying to freak me out?” Alex asked.

  Claire put her arm around Alex. “You know we’re not. We’re just thinking out loud. Same as you would do. Now, go home, have a glass of wine with Bonnie, and get some rest. We’ll see you in the morning.”

  Chapter Fifty

  ALEX DIDN’T GO HOME. She wasn’t ready to face Bonnie and tell her about Gloria Temple. She needed time to think, to clear her head and decide what to do. She got in her car and drove. She wasn’t going anywhere in particular. She just had to keep moving.

  If her defense team didn’t come up with something to discredit Gloria, Alex would have no choice but to take the stand. After hearing Gloria’s testimony, the jury would expect to hear her version, but telling her story wouldn’t be enough even if Kate Scranton believed it. Not if Gloria Temple was a credible witness. Patrick Ortiz would work her over until there was nothing left of her story, her reputation, or her future.

  She assumed that Claire would find out whether Ortiz had made a deal with Gloria in exchange for testifying, but that didn’t mean Ortiz would tell her everything about the case against Gloria. Defense lawyers called that prosecutorial misconduct. Prosecutors called it a reasonable interpretation of the rules.

  Blues and Lou had spent months chasing after Gloria without learning anything useful. Now that Gloria had been found, if they had more time, they might discover something to make a liar out of her. But they didn’t have time. Gloria was going to be the first witness in the morning.

  Alex knew from years of defending criminals that her clients made a lot of bad decisions when they gave up trying to think of good ones. For the hundredth time since she pulled the trigger and killed Dwayne Reed, she felt a kinship with them. She opened her wallet and took out the scrap of paper with Judge West’s cell phone number on it.

  Calling him was a bad decision, but she wouldn’t make it worse by using her own phone. She stopped at a convenience store and bought a cheap prepaid cell phone she could get rid of, making it impossible to trace the call back to her. Judge West answered on the second ring.

  “Who the hell is this? How’d you get this number?”

  “It’s Alex Stone.”

  When he didn’t respond right away, her stomach convulsed and she thought she would throw up.

  “This is a bad idea,” he said at last.

  “I know and I’m sorry, but I need your help. I’ve got to talk to you about Gloria Temple. She’s the money.”

  After another long pause, he said, “I’ve got a horse farm. I look in on the horses around eight o’clock.” He gave her the address and hung up.

  Alex decided to pass the time drinking coffee in a downtown diner. Taking a back booth, she opened her phone and found the e-mail Kate had sent with the files from Gloria’s cell phone attached. She downloaded the files and starting working her way through them. The files were lengthy and the screen on her phone was small, making for tedious work.

  She couldn’t imagine that Lou and Blues hadn’t already been through the files, but they hadn’t said anything about them. Either they hadn’t found anything or they didn’t want to talk about what they had found. If it was the former, she hoped she’d recognize something that they hadn’t. If it was the latter, she was in for a shock.

  By seven thirty, she was jittery from caffeine and cross-eyed from staring at her phone. Gloria’s e-mails covered men, other women, family, being broke, getting high, being homesick, and a litany of other mundane topics, but there was nothing about Dwayne Reed, Wilfred Donaire, Kyrie Chapman, or Jameer Henderson. That was as far as she got before leaving for her meeting with Judge West.

  His horse farm wasn’t out in the country. It was tucked away in an undeveloped area east of downtown and surrounded by residential developments. A long and winding narrow driveway kept it hidden from the street. The driveway ended at a white clapboard farmhouse. A dirt track led from the farmhouse to the horse barn. Alex’s headlights picked out the judge’s SUV next to the barn. She followed the track, parking next to his
car. Judge West was waiting, holding the reins to a horse in one hand and a lit cigar in the other.

  “Are you out of your mind calling me?” he said to her.

  She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. “Entirely possible, but you’re the one who told me to break the rules.”

  He took a sharp draw on his cigar, yelling at her through the smoke. “I didn’t tell you to kill your goddamn client and then call me asking for help in the middle of your goddamn trial, over which I happen to be presiding!”

  She held her palms up. “I know, I know, and I’m sorry, but I thought—”

  “You thought what? That we’re partners? Buddies? Pals? Is that what you thought?”

  She let out a deep breath. “I thought we wanted the same thing. I thought I could trust you. I thought you were the only person I could talk to who could help me.”

  “You’ve got pretty goddamn good lawyers. Don’t you trust them?”

  “Not with this,” she said, pointing her finger back and forth from him to her. “Not with what we talked about doing.”

  Judge West flicked the ash from his cigar, grinding it in the dust. He stroked his horse’s face, pulled a carrot from his pocket, and fed it to the horse.

  “Your lawyers must have told you what Gloria Temple is going to say on the stand.”

  “I know the gist of it. Claire is supposed to talk to her tonight and get the details.”

  “So how can I help you with that? I doubt that your lawyer, good as she is, can come up with a reason for me to exclude Gloria’s testimony without looking like a damn fool.”

  “Gloria isn’t going to testify willingly. Claire will find out if Ortiz made a deal with her to give her immunity for whatever trouble she’s in. But if I know Ortiz, he won’t tell Claire everything and neither will Gloria, because that might knock the pins out from under her testimony. That’s the stuff I need to know.”

  Judge West patted his horse again. “Here’s what I can do. You tell your lawyer to bitch like hell that Ortiz is holding out on her. Tell her to demand to see the files on whatever they’ve got on Gloria. I’ll order Ortiz to produce the records and I’ll give you and your lawyers a couple of hours to look them over.”

  Alex grabbed his arm. “Thanks. That’s great. Really!”

  He shook her hand off his arm. “You’re welcome, but remember one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You said that we both want the same thing.”

  “We do.”

  “And that’s what?”

  Alex swallowed hard. “Making sure guilty people go to jail for a long time.”

  “Don’t forget that,” he said.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  ALEX TREMBLED AS SHE DROVE AWAY. Judge West had made it clear that their secret partnership didn’t include a pass if he decided she was guilty. That he agreed to help her meant that he hadn’t made up his mind, but his offer came with a warning to be careful what she asked for. If Gloria was telling the truth, he wouldn’t hesitate to turn on Alex.

  The judge and her defense team had one thing in common. They had shifted the burden of proof to her to convince them of her innocence, and she knew why. It was the facts. Claire had chipped away at the prosecution’s case, but the core facts had gone unchallenged.

  She had gone to Odyessy’s house carrying a concealed weapon and looking for Dwayne after he threatened to rape Bonnie. If she had only wanted to inform Dwayne that she was withdrawing from his case, all she had to do was leave him a message. Instead, she shot him without giving him a chance to defend himself. Bad facts make for guilty verdicts.

  Lou Mason called her when she was near downtown.

  “What’s up?” Alex asked.

  “Our luck might have just changed. Claire went to Ortiz’s office to talk to Gloria. When Claire got there, she was gone.”

  “What do you mean, she was gone?”

  “I mean that she told Ortiz she had to use the john and she never came back.”

  Alex’s heart kicked into high gear, banging against her chest. “Christ! Didn’t Ortiz send someone with her to the bathroom?”

  “Yes, a female rookie cop, and Gloria decked her. Ortiz knows that if the cops can’t find Gloria by morning, he’ll have to rest his case without her testimony.”

  “Yeah, but if they can find her, he can call her as a rebuttal witness after we rest.”

  “Not if we don’t put on any evidence. He rests, we rest, and then we go straight to the jury.”

  Alex’s hands were shaking so badly she pulled into a parking lot. “Did Ortiz give Claire any more details about Gloria’s testimony?”

  “No. He says it’s a moot point until they find her. That’s bullshit, but it won’t matter if everything breaks right for us in the morning.”

  “My God, the whole thing is unbelievable.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s still a long way till morning, but I like our chances a whole lot better right now than I did a little while ago. I’ll keep you posted if anything else happens.”

  Alex wished she agreed with Lou, but her gut wouldn’t let her. The police would blanket the east side looking for Gloria, and Hank Rossi would kick in every door to find her. When they did, she’d be back to square one except that Ortiz would have one more thing to hold over Gloria’s head and one more card to play with the jury, now that her reluctance to testify would make her more persuasive, just as it had with Jameer Henderson.

  Sitting in the deserted parking lot mulling a series of possibilities, each one worse than the last, she got angry at being so helpless to do anything. Hoping that Rossi wouldn’t find Gloria only made her feel even more helpless, if that was possible. Desperate to do something, anything, she opened the one file from Gloria’s phone she had yet to review.

  The file held photographs. Gloria was in a number of them. Alex recognized her from the photograph Mason had taken. There were pictures of a dog, pictures of people whom Alex assumed were Gloria’s friends and family, pictures of Gloria she took holding the camera in front of her, and pictures taken at a bar, people crowded together, raising beer bottles in a salute. There was nothing in the pictures of Gloria that jumped out at Alex. She was, to all appearances, an ordinary person, laughing and smiling in some of the photographs, caught in candid moments of surprise or reflection in others.

  Scrolling through the pictures, she almost skipped over another photograph of Gloria. Alex had seen enough images of her that one more wasn’t worth studying, but the background in this photo caught her attention.

  Gloria was standing in front of the door to a house. Something about the door looked familiar to Alex. She enlarged the image, her breath catching in her throat when she saw a horseshoe tacked to the wall above the frame. She’d seen a door with a horseshoe above it twice before. The first time was when she examined the crime scene photographs in the Wilfred Donaire case. He’d been murdered in his backyard. The horseshoe was mounted above the back door to his house. She saw it again when she and Grace Canfield visited the scene, Grace pointing out the horseshoe, saying how little luck it had brought Wilfred.

  Alex looked at the photograph again. Gloria was wearing light tan ankle-high boots and was dressed in jeans and a heavy jacket zipped up to her neck. Using her fingers to enlarge and move the image, Alex saw that the grass around Gloria’s feet was a dull winter brown except in a few places that were streaked with something dark.

  Zeroing in on the streaks, she saw what could be irregular palm prints, as if someone had wiped their hands on the ground. Keeping the image as enlarged as possible, she traced a trail of dark spots from Gloria’s boots to her jeans and onto her jacket. The streaks and the spots could have been anything, including water and mud, but she’d seen enough crime scene photographs to know that they could also be blood.

  Alex leaned back against her car seat, closing her eyes and shaking her head. Wilfred Donaire had been murdered the year before in the dead of winter, and Gloria
Temple had been there when he died.

  Wilfred had done well enough in the drug business to buy his house, though not well enough to maintain it. It was boarded up after his murder and added to the city’s extensive inventory of abandoned houses on the east side. If Gloria needed to find a hiding place in a hurry, she could do a lot worse.

  Rossi had worked the Donaire case long enough to recognize the horseshoe if he saw the photograph. That would be enough to send him to Donaire’s house. She could either hope that wouldn’t happen or make certain she got there first. If she did and if Gloria told her the truth, she’d have one more decision to make—what to do about Gloria. Her phone rang. It was Bonnie. As much as she wanted to hear her voice, she knew it was the wrong time to answer.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  PARKED IN FRONT OF WILFRED DONAIRE’S HOUSE, Alex knew she was working without a plan and without a net. But Gloria Temple was the money and Alex couldn’t let Rossi and Ortiz cash her in without knowing what it would cost her.

  It was a cold night, the moon bathing Donaire’s house with pale light. Two other abandoned houses flanked Donaire’s.

  She rummaged for the flashlight she kept in her glove compartment before getting out of her car and shining it on the house. The last coat of paint had faded long ago to a ghostly gray. The roof sagged and the eaves hung low, worn and weary. The front of the house, its doors and windows sealed with plywood, was half-hidden from the street by overgrown shrubs and weeds, still brown from winter, their limbs and stalks twisted and braided into a thicket fence.

  Alex made her way to the front porch. A wooded bench with broken legs and rotted slats lay turned on its side among crushed beer cans, empty whiskey bottles, and a scattering of used condoms and syringes. She tugged at the plywood on the windows and doors, but the boards were tight enough to keep people and light out. If Gloria was there, she’d found another way inside.

  Circling around to the back, Alex stumbled into an unseen hole on the side of the house deep enough to catch her shoe and send her sprawling onto the rock-hard ground, her flashlight smacking against a bowling-ball chunk of stone, shattering the lens and the bulb. Her face slammed into the earth when she couldn’t get her hands out in front fast enough to break her fall. Dazed, she pushed herself to her knees and took inventory. Her chin stung, her lips throbbed, and warm, sticky blood was oozing from her nose.