Kiss Across Deserts

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  But Veris, Brody and Taylor’s main living area in their house was. That was why the room with the black and white floor had felt both familiar and comforting.

  Is this the past? He had asked her and her reply had been correct. This is nowhere.

  Just watch out.

  Chapter Ten

  Alex found a seat directly behind the defense table, next to Veris and Taylor, and tapped Brody on the shoulder. Brody turned and hugged him. “You look like hell, Alex,” he murmured. He gripped his arm. “What’s going on?”

  Alex forced himself not to glance at Rafe, sitting in the chair next to Brody, his head down as he flipped through a thick pile of papers. “Your trial, is what is going on. You must stay focused.”

  Brody let him go, his brow wrinkled heavily. “We’ll pick this up later,” he warned, his voice low.

  Taylor looked past Veris as Alex settled in his seat. “Brody is right. You look like you’ve been abusing your health, which is impossible for someone like you.”

  There was a murmur of voices from the back of the room, then quick footsteps. Alex didn’t look up as the two women passed him, but Sydney’s scent was impossible to miss (forget), and once they were passed, Alex let himself watch her move around the prosecutor’s table and take her place next to the Assistant District Attorney who was trying Brody’s case.

  Sydney had her hair pinned up and was wearing a severe black skirt suit and low heels. Her working uniform.

  Alex was unable to halt the images spilling through his mind—of plunging his hands into her loose hair and holding her head still while he kissed her, until she moaned under his lips. Brushing her hair away from face. The way the spun gold had glowed in the moonlight spilling through the windows as she lay beneath him.

  Stop it! Stop torturing yourself.

  He couldn’t let himself look at Rafe, not even the back of his head.

  But Sydney was staring at him. Her expression was that of someone trying to understand something. There was a tiny pucker between her brows. Then she caught Alex’s gaze and looked away quickly. She turned on her seat, straightened her jacket and looked straight ahead.

  Alex sighed. This was going to be a very long day.

  Veris leaned toward him. “Have you fucked up, Alex?” he asked, very quietly. “There are two people in this room who won’t meet your eyes.”

  “Royally,” Alex admitted softly. “But I have no idea what I did, in one case.”

  Veris glanced at him. “Perhaps it’s because there are two people mentally cursing your name?”

  “Probably,” Alex said. “Make that yes.”

  “All rise for the honorable Judge Whittacker,” the court clerk called.

  They all stood as the judge emerged from his chambers and climbed up to his desk, then settled on his chair. He looked around the room. “This case LM45698, the City of Los Angeles versus….” He looked down at the notes in front of him. “Brody Gallagher. Court is in session.” He banged the gavel.

  Everyone sat down, except for Rafe. “If it pleases your honor, I would like to bring forward a motion for immediate dismissal of all charges against my client.”

  Judge Whittacker looked over his glasses at Rafe. “Judge Rayner De Leon. It is an honor to have you in my court.”

  “Thank you, your honor. These are unusual circumstance. I promise to behave myself while I’m sitting on this seat and not yours.”

  “I appreciate that,” Judge Whittacker said soberly.

  “Your honor, the motion?” the ADA asked, sounding frustrated.

  The judge scowled at her, then looked at Rafe. “Indeed, Mr. De Leon. What could possibly justify a full dismissal? I’ve looked over the evidence, too, remember.”

  “Your honor, I would like to present new evidence, if I may?”

  The judge considered the question seriously. “Wouldn’t this be better read into the trial at the appropriate place in the proceedings? You may be a little rusty on criminal trial proceedings, Mr. De Leon.”

  “Your honor, this evidence proves that my client was not given his full first amendment rights. If a defendant has been denied his constitutional rights, then a trial must be abandoned.”

  “Your honor, this is outrageous!” the ADA shouted, getting to her feet. “This so-called evidence should have been presented during the discovery phase. The defense cannot dump it upon us without giving the prosecution time to study it.”

  The judge looked at her over his glasses, as he tapped the gavel impatiently. “Thank you for your insight, Assistant District Attorney Barker. But I think we all can recognize a constitutional breech when it is staring us in the face. Read in your evidence, Mr. De Leon. Let’s get this over with.”

  Rafe picked up a DVD disk and several sheets of paper and brought them up to the judge and placed them in front of him. ADA Barker hurried up to the bench, too.

  Rafe touched the disk. “This is a recording from one of the security cameras at the coach depot on the night my client was arrested. And this—” and he touched the sheets, “is a sworn affidavit from the security guard who made the copy from his electronic files, swearing that this is a true copy.”

  “Your honor, the defense has already produced a tape of security footage into evidence,” Barker protested. “Piling a second disk on top of the first doesn’t make it unconstitutional.”

  The judge rolled his eyes. “Let’s just watch the DVD, shall we? Then you can use all the vitriol you can muster.”

  One of the court clerks rolled a TV on a trolley into the room, and positioned it so that everyone could see the screen, then set up the TV to run the DVD. He pressed play.

  The image that appeared on the screen was black and white, but much crisper and clearer than the photos from Sydney’s accident. There were a lot of people on the screen, all milling around Brody’s band’s touring coach, with its wild paintwork. There was a lot of overriding chatter, with people all talking at once.

  Rafe stood up again. “Your honor, if I may?”

  The judge waved to the clerk, who pressed pause.

  Rafe stepped around the desk and walked up to the screen. He pointed to a group of people clustered together. “That is my client, there in the middle of the group. His wife is there,” and Rafe pointed to Taylor on the screen. Alex could see them now they had been pointed out to him. This was the first time he had seen any images from the night Brody had been arrested. He leaned forward, deeply interested despite himself.

  “This figure here is Lieutenant Brixton,” Rafe continued. “He is the arresting officer, but was removed from the case within twelve hours of the arrest.”

  “Your honor!” Barker called.

  “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that biased remark, thank you, Ms. Baxter. Proceed, please.”

  The clerk pressed the play button. For a few seconds the background noise and chatter remained, then the sound diminished and one voice became much clearer.

  “We enhanced the sound to focus on the group surrounding my client, your honor,” Rafe said.

  The arresting officer, Brixton, was speaking. “We were expecting to find a certain amount of cocaine and cannabis in all the lockers and we did, in amounts usually considered for personal use. Your stash was something else entirely.”

  “My stash?” That was Brody, sounding stressed.

  There was a murmur. “Brody, shut the fuck up.” That was Veris, leaning in toward Brody.

  There were titters scattered among the people in the gallery, and the judge cleared his throat. “It was good advice despite the delivery. Carry on,” and he waved to the clerk, who started the video up again.

  Brixton was looking down at his notebook. “Amphetamines, most of the social drugs, including Ecstasy, and the biggest bag of cocaine we’ve seen in a long time. Good quality stuff, too. Injectable, water-soluble high-grade cut. Then there’s the heroin. Pure white and uncut. A half-pound of the stuff, we figure. That right there will get you ten years at least, because that amount will be
seen as possession with intent to distribute.” Brixton’s voice and tone and even his posture said that he was enjoying himself.

  Alex glanced at the prosecution table. Baxter was not looking happy at all. Sydney looked simply disgusted.

  Alex saw Veris leaned close to Brody once more. He murmured something.

  “I didn’t hear that,” the judge complained as the video paused.

  “Your honor, the affidavit in front of you includes a transcript of everything spoken. I believe my client’s friend said, ‘Do not say a single word’.”

  “Thank you. Continue.”

  Alex watched Brixton shut his notebook with a snap. “Of course, we’ll have all the official weights and measures properly listed on your arrest sheet for you,” he said as he put the notebook away again.

  “What has Brody ever done to you, Lieutenant, to deserve your malice?” Taylor asked.

  Brixton sneered. “People like you, with your undeserved wealth and fame and your superior holier-than-thou attitudes…you think you live above the law, that you can get away with anything you want because of who you are. Well, you can’t.” He clicked his fingers. “Brody Gallagher, you’re under arrest for the possession of illegal substances, with intent to distribute. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?”

  “This is bullshit,” Brody growled as two of the uniformed cops stepped forward.

  “Pause, please,” Rafe called out.

  The video halted.

  Rafe stepped out from behind his table once more. “Your honor, my client did not acknowledge that he understood his rights. I wanted to point that out before you watch the next fifteen seconds.”

  The video started up again.

  “We’ll sort it out,” Veris said, his voice low, but perfectly clear this time.

  “Do you understand your rights as they have been explained to you?” Brixton demanded as the cops shoved between Taylor and Veris and yanked Brody’s arms back.

  “Pause!” Rafe called, then looked at the judge. “A second iteration and request that Brody acknowledge he understands his rights. Continue.”

  Alex could feel his heart beating all on its own. The stress and tension in the coach shed could be felt just by watching Veris and Taylor work to defend Brody.

  The video started again. This time, there was a muffled, but still distinct shouting. “Daddy!” It came from the limousine, along with pounding on the windows.

  Marit, Alex thought, feeling sick. She had watched all of it.

  “Oh, God,” Brody moaned. “She can see me.”

  The two uniforms ratcheted cuffs onto Brody’s wrists and Brody drew in a sharp, harsh breath that was quite clear on the sound track.

  “And halt, please,” Rafe called.

  The screen paused and Alex drew in a deep breath, glad he didn’t have to watch any more. No wonder the three of them had looked like they had been mugged when he had arrived at the station later that night.

  Rafe waved his hand toward the screen. “Your honor, it is clear that my client was deeply stressed by the situation. He was concerned about his daughter witnessing the arrest—”

  “That was his daughter in the car?” the judge queried.

  “Yes, your honor. But my point is that my client was upset. He acted as if he hadn’t heard Lieutenant Brixton at all. He did not acknowledge at any time that he had heard his rights and understood them. This is a basic constitutional breech, your honor, and as such, I move that the case be dismissed.”

  The judge blew out his breath. “Do you have anything to say, Ms. Baxter?”

  The ADA rose to her feet. Slowly. “At this point, no, your honor. We do not having anything to add.”

  Sydney’s face in profile was utterly still. Her jaw was thrust forward and Alex knew she was angry.

  The judge looked at the paused video, with the dozen officers and detectives surrounding Brody, trying to haul him away. In the background, Alex could see Marit standing at the window of the limousine, her hands against the glass.

  The judge dropped his glasses onto the blotter in front of him. “There’s a great deal I could say about excessive force and brutality, but unfortunately, that is not the case we are trying here today. Regardless of what Mr. Gallagher’s alleged crimes might have been, I concur that his basic constitutional rights, the rights that are fundamental to the law and our way of life, were not upheld. I have no choice but to dismiss this case. Court is dismissed.” He banged his gavel and pandemonium broke out around the court.

  Brody got to his feet and turned and hugged Taylor over the barrier. While his face was buried in her hair, he reached out blindly to Veris and drew him into the hug.

  “Judge De Leon!” It was Sydney’s voice.

  Alex turned to see her making her way around the tables. She stopped at the end of the defendant’s table, a few paces away from Rafe, who turned to face her with a polite expression on his face. As the ADA brushed past Sydney and strode toward the door, an implacable expression on her face, Sydney stepped forward and out of the way, bringing her even closer.

  “Lieutenant Stevens,” Rafe acknowledged.

  She crossed her arms. “It’s curious how you found security footage at the very last hour before the trial.”

  “Curious and very fortunate,” Rafe agreed.

  “I find it especially curious that you could find security footage at all. When the police attempted to obtain it, they found that the night guard had accidently turned all the electronic feeds off. All of them.”

  “All but one, Lieutenant,” Rafe corrected her.

  Sydney nodded. “All but one,” she repeated. She glanced at Alex, spearing him with her direct gaze, before looking back at Rafe. “It is also very curious how with every case you’re involved in, Mr. De Leon, evidence appears or disappears in a manner that favors your clients.”

  “Are you accusing me of evidence tampering, Lieutenant? Because I should point out that it was Brixton who screwed this up for you, not a fortuitous appearance of evidence. If Brixton had followed procedure, then we would be swearing in jurors right now.”

  Sydney considered him for a moment. “There’s something odd about both of you,” she said, her voice low. “I don’t know what it is. It’s like my accident…nothing adds up to a sensible answer.”

  “Your accident?” Rafe asked politely.

  She straightened up and dropped her arms. “This isn’t over, Mr. De Leon.” She glanced at Alex. “Until I understand exactly what is going on, this doesn’t end.” She brushed past Rafe and strode past Alex. He caught her scent, the commercial one, and underneath, the lemony-vinegar smell of her fury.

  Rafe turned to watch her go and for the first time since Alex had arrived, he looked at him directly. “I’m beginning to see why you like her.” But he didn’t smile. Instead he turned back to his papers and started stuffing them into his briefcase, before Brody interrupted by thrusting out his hand toward him as a thank you.

  Veris rested his hand on Alex’s shoulder, forcing him to look away from the door where Sydney was slipping through, to look at him. Veris wasn’t smiling. “Need to talk, Alex?” he asked softly.

  Alex shook his head. “Thank you, but no.”

  Taylor leaned around Veris. “We’re having an impromptu party to celebrate. Please come over.”

  “I don’t think I—”

  Veris shook him, where his hand still rested on his shoulder, big and heavy. “Yes, you will, whether you want to or not. Solitude isn’t the answer. Come and hug Marit and the twins and relax for a while. Then we’ll let you go home and brood, if you still want to by then.”

  Alex sighed. Just do the next thing, he told himself. So he forced a smile. “Thank you. I would enjoy that.”

  “Liar,” Veris said. “But we’ll ch
ange your mind.”

  Chapter Eleven

  It turned out that Veris was right. For the next week, the three of them held Alex a virtual hostage in their house and it seemed that there was always someone in the room with him. Veris or Brody even went hunting with him when he needed to feed. With no time to spare to think, Alex found that talking was the only way to sort through the morass of feelings. Most nights, while Taylor slept and either Veris or Brody kept her company, the other would sit with Alex and he would talk. Neither of them offered judgment. Neither of them condemned him, or defended him. They just listened.

  It was cathartic in a way Alex had never experienced before. Unburdening one’s soul was something that he had always done in private, between him and God, but he hadn’t reached out to God for a very long time. The release that talking gave him was different, but it had the same effect. He could feel himself unwinding.

  It also gave him an insight into why Brody and Veris had stayed together for such a very long time. Total acceptance was a rare quality and both of them had it.

  Although Alex found no insights during his week with the three, he did find a different sort of peace. An accepting one.

  At the end of the week, Alex politely declined their urging that he stay as long as he liked. He went back home, dressed for work and drove to the hospital. It was time to start living again.

  It was a beautiful September day. The leaves were starting to turn, but hadn’t fallen yet, and the temperature wasn’t staggeringly hot. So Alex chose to park his car in the public parking lot on the other side of the hospital and stroll to the hospital, instead of taking the indoor route via his staff parking space. There was a park just on the other side of the parking lot, with lots of old trees and shady spots and he wandered to the hospital side of the park from the parking lot, taking the meandering paths.