Stone Cold

by Joel Goldman

  She leaned her head back and pinched her nostrils together until the bleeding stopped, the cartilage wobbling, probably broken. After getting to her feet, she felt her front teeth, relieved that they were still firmly in place, and pulled her shirt to her face, wiping the blood off as best she could in the dark.

  She picked her way to the back of the house, finding the door barricaded with plywood, the horseshoe still mounted overhead. To her left, she saw a two-foot-square piece of plywood leaning, but not nailed, against the house. Pulling it away, she saw a window into the basement, the glass broken out of the center, ragged shards sticking out around the frame.

  Alex lay on the ground, peering through the window, seeing and hearing nothing. She had no idea if anyone was inside the house. She might find Gloria or she might find a coked up rapist or someone even worse. She clenched her eyes, trying to banish the nightmare images from her mind, thinking again about the people she’d represented, how so many had confused stupidity for bravery and how fear had driven them to do things they never could have imagined. And now she was truly one of them, unable to separate courage from foolishness, terrified to climb through the window and unwilling to turn back. She knocked the remaining glass out of the way and slid feet first into the basement, one shoe landing on a rat that shrieked and disappeared in the darkness.

  The basement reeked of piss and shit mixed with musty mold. She would have covered her mouth except she needed both hands to feel her way. Trembling, one hand on the wall, the other stretched out in front of her, she felt her way around the basement perimeter until she found the stairs. Her heart pounding, she grasped the rail. Stopping on each step, she listened before climbing the next. Still she heard no footfalls, no scraping chairs, and no doors opening and closing.

  When she reached the top of the stairs, her mouth was dry, her throat was tight and her palms were sweating. She didn’t move for a moment, taking steadying breaths and wiping her hands on her thighs.

  Straightening her back and squaring her shoulders, she grasped the door handle both scared and relieved that it turned so easily. The hinges creaked as she began to ease the door open. She stopped again, waited, and listened to the silence before pressing her hand against the door, opening it the rest of the way, and stepping onto the first floor.

  The room she was in was even darker than the basement, if that was possible. It was if she were inside a tomb, the sensation disorienting until a flicker of flame split the darkness and cold steel pressed against her wounded lips.

  “That’s a gun up in yo’ face,” a woman said. “Now, who the fuck are you?”

  Stunned, Alex’s head started to spin. She reached out to both sides, her hands grabbing air, her knees buckling.

  “Oh, shit,” she said as she corkscrewed to the floor.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  THE FLAME CAME FROM A LIGHTER that cast more shadow than light. The woman holding it crouched in front of Alex, pressing the barrel of her gun against Alex’s cheek. Sitting cross-legged, arms wrapped around her middle, Alex didn’t answer.

  “I ain’t gonna ax you again. Who the fuck’re you?”

  The room stopped spinning and Alex took a breath, then let it out and blinked, focusing on the now familiar face in front of her.

  “I’m Alex Stone.”

  Gloria scooted back, pulling the gun away but keeping it pointed at Alex. She rocked back on her heels, keeping the lighter on and thinking.

  “Shit, girl, what happened to your face?”

  “I fell. You’re Gloria Temple, aren’t you?”

  “How you know my name?”

  Alex dropped her hands in her lap, glancing around the room. The flame gave enough light to reveal something crawling across a couch, either a large rat or a small cat. Trash littered the floor. The sewer smell was stronger than in the basement, no doubt coming from an overflowing and backed-up toilet. There was a wall to her left, a foot away. She reached out her hand, bracing herself, and slowly stood. Gloria rose with her, keeping her gun trained on Alex.

  “Put the gun down and I’ll tell you.”

  Gloria shook her head. “Only way I’m puttin’ my gun down is if I decide not to kill you, and I ain’t decided. I know who you are. You was Dwayne’s lawyer.”

  “Yes, I was. We need to talk, and I don’t like doing that while you’re pointing a gun at me.”

  “Fuck you! You killed Dwayne.”

  Alex nodded. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “Bullshit, bitch!”

  “It’s not bullshit.”

  “I was there. I saw what you did.”

  Alex didn’t want to go there, not yet. She wanted Gloria to be the one on the defensive. “And I know what you did. The question is whether the police know.”

  “What the fuck’s that s’posed to mean?”

  “It means that you were with Dwayne when he killed Wilfred Donaire.”

  “How you know that?”

  Alex expected a denial, not a confession. “I didn’t know it for sure, at least not until you just admitted it. You’ve got a picture on your phone of you standing in Wilfred’s backyard. You’re all bundled up because it was a cold day just like the day Dwayne killed Wilfred. A woman gave a gold necklace to Dwayne that belonged to Wilfred. That was you.”

  “How you know what’s on my phone?”

  “Doesn’t matter as long as I do. But here’s something I don’t get. Why did Kyrie Chapman make Jameer Henderson testify against Dwayne?”

  “That fool thought if he could get Dwayne sent to jail, he’d have me to himself.”

  “But you weren’t interested.”

  “And I never was gonna be interested, but Kyrie, he never give up.”

  “How’d he know about Dwayne and the necklace?”

  Gloria didn’t answer.

  “You told him? If he was the fool, what’s that make you?”

  Gloria waggled the barrel of the gun. “It make me the one wit’ the gun, bitch.”

  Alex nodded. “You’re right about that. So did Dwayne take your picture before or after he cut off Wilfred’s dick?”

  Gloria threw her head back, laughing. “Dwayne didn’t cut that pissant muthafucka’s prick off. He saved that part for me.”

  Alex held her face in check, the same as she did whenever her clients tried to shock her. Both she and Dwayne had taken credit for mutilating Donaire Reed. At this point it didn’t matter which one was telling the truth. What mattered is that Gloria wanted Alex to believe that she was a dangerous woman. The gun Gloria was aiming at her was all the convincing Alex needed.

  “Do you still have your phone?”

  She shook her head. “Cops took it from me.”

  “Which means Detective Rossi has seen the picture of you in Donaire’s backyard. If I could put it together, he can too. Did the prosecuting attorney promise to cut you some slack on Donaire’s murder if you testify against me?”

  “I tol’ him that picture don’t prove nuthin’ ’bout me and Wilfred.”

  “That’s what I would have told him if I was your lawyer, so why are you telling me what you did?”

  “’Cause there ain’t nuthin’ you can do ’bout it.”

  “I can testify about it.”

  Gloria laughed. “Girl, you see this gun? You ain’t gonna be testifyin’ about shit.”

  Alex realized that if Gloria was telling the truth about mutilating Wilfred Donaire, she wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. The worst thing Alex could do was to show the fear that was rising from her belly to her throat. The best way to avoid that was to keep talking.

  “Ortiz knows you’re right about the photograph, so he’s got to have something else on you to turn you into a snitch.”

  She glared at Alex. “Tellin’ what some white bitch did to my man ain’t snitchin’.”

  “Fair enough. What does Ortiz have on you that made you willing to do your civic duty?”

  Gloria hesitated, smiling halfway like a kid about to tell a secret. “Fuckin’
baseball bat he say got my fingerprints on it.”

  Alex’s jaw went slack, her mouth hanging open. “You did that to the Hendersons?”

  She grinned. “Mighta had some help.”

  Alex balled her fists, pressing her arms against her sides, wanting to strangle Gloria. “How could you have done that? They never did anything to you!”

  Gloria shrugged. “Jameer, now, that man was a snitch, and he got to pay the price. His wife and kids, they part of the price. And me and Dwayne, we a team.”

  Alex had seen a lot of bad cases and defended a lot of bad people, but she couldn’t remember anyone as casual and callous as Gloria, who treated mass murder as a team sport. She wished she had seen Gloria there when she killed Dwayne so she could have killed her too.

  “Then why did you run? Why didn’t you take whatever deal Ortiz offered you?”

  Gloria waved her gun at Alex again. “That waddn’t right, you killin’ Dwayne just cause he called you a dyke. You shoulda let him bone you like he said he was gonna do. Might’ve changed your mind about eatin’ pussy instead of suckin’ dick.”

  Alex shuddered. “How could you—”

  “’Cause I was there, bitch! Bringin’ that fuckin’ bat back to Dwayne ’cause he wanted it for a souvenir. I seen how you tol’ Dwayne to come on and do it so he’d put his gun down just so you could shoot him, and I seen how you put his gun in his hand like he was the one that pulled the trigger.”

  Alex clutched her bloody shirt, Gloria’s accusation stunning her. “You were there.”

  “Damn straight I was there.”

  “He’d killed all those people. He was going to rape and probably kill my girlfriend. I couldn’t let him do that.”

  “Like I give a shit ‘bout them people. I only cared ‘bout Dwayne and you killed him. I’d of killed you right them ‘cept that cop came runnin’ in so I went runnin’ out. Packed a bag. Left the bat in the closet at the house where I stayed ’cause I figured the cops didn’t know nuthin’ ’bout me and wouldn’t know to look for it there. Stashed the gun here in case I ever came back and needed it. Now, I would’na minded seein’ you go down for killin’ Dwayne, but Ortiz must be a fool to think I gonna spend the rest of my life in prison.”

  “But—but—”

  “Quit stutterin’, girl! I ain’t gonna testify.”

  Alex breathed deep and let it out. “So what now?”

  Gloria furrowed her brow. “What now? For real? I’m gonna kill you. What the hell you think?”

  Her lighter gave out as she spoke, the sudden darkness giving Alex a chance she took, her survival instinct taking over. She threw herself at Gloria, both of them screaming and tumbling across the floor, Gloria pulling the trigger, the bullet whistling past Alex’s ear.

  Alex clamped her hands around the gun, shaking it loose from Gloria’s hand. Gloria grabbed a fistful of Alex’s hair, banging her head against the floor, kicking Alex out of her way, and scrambling for her gun; then a powerful beam of light swept across the room, blinding Alex for an instant.

  “Police!” Rossi shouted, aiming the light first at Alex and then at Gloria.

  “She’s got a gun!” Alex cried.

  Shots rang out. Alex covered her ears and shut her eyes, not opening them until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s over,” Rossi said.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  “NOW, LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT,” Judge West said.

  Alex watched from the defense counsel table alongside Lou Mason. Claire and Ortiz were standing center stage. The bailiff had yet to bring the jury into the courtroom.

  “Mr. Ortiz, you are asking for a continuance because your last witness, this Gloria Temple, was killed by Detective Rossi last night.”

  “That’s correct, Your Honor.”

  “And, you, Ms. Mason, are asking for a directed verdict on the grounds that the prosecution has failed to carry its burden of proof in its case in chief.”

  “Yes, Your Honor. Gloria Temple isn’t going to testify no matter how long a continuance you might grant. Mr. Ortiz said on the record yesterday that she was his last witness. Since she’s no longer available, he has no choice but to rest his case, and that means you can rule on my motion to direct a verdict in favor of the defendant.”

  “Mr. Ortiz,” Judge West said, “do you have another witness?”

  “Not at the moment. But if you’ll give us sixty days—”

  “To do what, Counsel? Start over? Do a better job preparing your case the second time around? Hold on to your star witness instead of letting her escape, attempt to murder the defendant, and shoot it out with a homicide detective?”

  “If the court please—,” Ortiz began.

  “I’ll make this simple, Counsel. Do you have any other witnesses or evidence to offer at this time?”

  Ortiz shook his head. “No, Your Honor, I don’t.”

  “Request for continuance denied. Does the state rest?”

  “We do.”

  “If I may speak to my motion for directed verdict,” Claire said.

  Judge West held up his hand. “Not necessary. This one’s easy, even for me. I find that the state has failed to meet its burden of proof on the charge of murder in the first degree or any other criminal count. I hereby enter a verdict of not guilty. The defendant is discharged. We are adjourned.”

  Lou put his arm around Alex, squeezing her shoulders. Alex stood, and Claire embraced her and then held her by the arms, looking square into her eyes.

  “You realize you did everything wrong from start to finish.”

  Alex’s heart sank. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that lawyers make the worst clients. They never take advice. They always think they’re smarter than the lawyer they hired. You could have just as easily been convicted or killed. You do understand that, don’t you?”

  Alex’s eyes watered as she nodded. “I do, and I’m very grateful for everything you and Lou and Blues and Kate did for me.”

  Claire stroked her cheek. “You’ve been given a second chance. Make the most of it.”

  Alex took her hand. “I will. I promise.”

  Grace Canfield had watched the proceedings from the gallery. She made her way to Alex and gave her a long hug.

  “Good for you, girl. Good for you,” Grace said.

  “I guess I’ll see you at the office in the morning,” Alex said.

  “Not tomorrow, but soon, I hope.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m supposed to tell you that the bosses are talking about if and when you can come back. For now, take it easy. You’ve earned some time off.”

  Alex nodded, swallowing hard. It was too much to hope that her life would suddenly go back to normal, that things would be as they always had been. She had won, but she still didn’t know at what cost. If she lost her job, she’d find another. If she lost Bonnie, she’d just be lost. They had a lot of ground to cover.

  She didn’t notice Rossi until the courtroom was almost empty. He was standing against the back wall, hands in his pockets. He’d been suspended with pay pending a review of the Gloria Temple shooting, though Alex had no doubt Tommy Bradshaw would declare that it was justified. As the last few people passed through the doors he walked toward her, stopping at the rail.

  “So,” he said.

  Alex dipped her head and then met his gaze, smiling. “Yeah. So.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m pretty sure I thanked you last night, but everything was so crazy, I’m may not have. So, thanks - again. You saved my life.”

  Rossi chewed his lip. “What you did was pretty stupid, going into that house. You do know that, don’t you?”

  “Would you believe me if I told you it seemed like a good idea at the time?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “You’re lucky I found the picture on Gloria’s phone of her in Donaire’s backyard and figured that’s where she was hiding.”

  “
I know,” Alex said. “Lucky and stupid, some combination, huh?”

  Rossi tilted his head and stroked his chin. “What I don’t get is why you went looking for Gloria in the first place.”

  Alex stiffened. It was the same question Rossi had asked her last night. Judge West had found her not guilty. Double jeopardy prevented her from being charged with murdering Dwayne even if she admitted it. So why was Rossi asking her again?

  “Like I told you, when I heard what she was going to say, I couldn’t believe it. I had to find out why she’d do that. Lou Mason had given me a flash drive with everything on Gloria’s cellphone. After I heard she’d skipped out, I found the picture of her in Donaire’s backyard and I thought I might find her at his house. Same as you.” She shook her head. “I went a little crazy. I should have let Claire handle it but I guess I proved why lawyers are such lousy clients.”

  “Yeah, well just don’t make a habit of it.”

  “Don’t worry. That’s the last basement window I’ll ever climb through. Believe me.”

  “That’s not what I was talking about,” Rossi said.

  “What, then?”

  “Killing your clients.”

  Alex didn’t know what to say. She just looked at him, her mouth half-open, searching his face for any hidden meaning. His expression was flat but his eyes were alive, boring in on her as if to say he wasn’t letting her off as easily as Judge West had. In that moment, she realized they both had their own system of justice and she wondered how far he would go with his. Last night he’d told her it was over. She wasn’t sure he meant it.

  “Right. Bad for business,” she said, forcing a laugh.

  “See you around, Counselor.”

  She lingered in the courtroom after he left doing what she always did when a case was over: gaze at the judge’s bench, the jury box, the counsel tables, and the gallery, soaking in the somber majesty of her surroundings. Only this time, it was different. This time she saw it as a stage on which there was more than one way to make certain justice was done.