Motion to Dismiss (A Kali O'Brien Legal Mystery)

by Jacobs, Jonnie

  “You’ll be there tomorrow for the arraignment, won’t you?” he asked.

  “I don’t think Grady needs us both.”

  Marc slid his hand around the coffee mug. “It would be a show of support.”

  I raised a brow.

  “It’s not going to help Nina any to have a husband in jail for rape,” Marc added.

  A valid point, but it didn’t do much to ease my discomfort. “Even if he didn’t rape the woman, he still cheated on Nina. Cheated on her when she was already down. And now he’s lying about it.”

  “You’d rather rub her face in the fact that her husband slept with some woman he picked up at a bar? What purpose would that serve?”

  Some vague principle of morality and truth, maybe. But we were talking about Nina, not abstract principles. He was probably right. In this instance the truth was not going to help her.

  “Okay, I can be there,” I said finally. “The arraignment is the easy part. It’s the next phase that’s got me worried.”

  “You really think they’ll go ahead with it?”

  “My guess is that the police are working closely with the D.A.’s office on this. They wouldn’t have arrested him unless they were planning on following through.”

  Marc licked his lower lip. “I bet somewhere down the line they drop it.”

  “We’ll have a better idea how things look after the prelim. Prosecutors don’t like to waste time or credibility on a losing case.”

  The furrows of tension between Marc’s brows softened slightly. “Grady will make a hell of a good witness in his own defense. He’s bound to come across better than the cupcake who’s accusing him.”

  I leaned back and folded my arms. “What makes you so sure of that?”

  “Look at him. He’s a respected businessman. Educated, urbane—”

  “Even if the”—I paused for emphasis—”cupcake is not equally educated and urbane, which we don’t know for a fact, it won’t necessarily work in Grady’s favor. Not unless we end up with a jury of middle-aged male CEOs.”

  “I didn’t mean cupcake in a derogatory sense.” He sounded defensive.

  “Of course not.”

  Marc started to say something more, then stopped and raised both hands. “Truce,” he said. “I’m too tired to fight.” He eyed what was left of the apple tart on my plate. “You’re not going to eat the crust?”

  I scooted it across the table in his direction. “It’ll go straight to your waist.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Since when are you worried about my midsection?”

  “I was speaking in the abstract.” Not that I hadn’t, on occasion, given Marc’s rugged frame a more than cursory glance. He’d filled out some in the years since law school, but he was still trim and firmly muscled. And still possessed of that goofy, boyish allure that had tempted me years ago.

  “It’s not only that I’m uncomfortable with Grady’s lie,” I said, sipping my coffee. “It may also prove to be a stumbling block in his defense.”

  “How’s that?”

  “If Grady will admit to having sex with the woman, then we have to argue only the issue of consent. But if he insists on sticking with this story he told Nina tonight—that he did nothing but give her a ride home—it’s going to be a whole lot harder.”

  Marc lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “It could have happened that way.”

  “But it didn’t.”

  “I’m just saying it’s a possibility, is all. Isn’t that what the defense is supposed to do?” He shifted forward. “It doesn’t seem so far-fetched to me. Grady meets this woman.” He cocked his head to make sure I caught the change of reference. No cupcake this time. “She’s come to the party with a friend, so he gives her a ride home, to be helpful. She’s taken with the guy, wants him to come in. When he shows no interest, she gets angry. Concocts this story of rape to get even.”

  I gave him a don’t-take-me-for-a-sucker look. “Let’s wait to see what the police have. And what this woman is actually like.”

  Marc finished off the rest of my tart and then slid the plate back in my direction.

  He looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Grady’s not a bad guy, you know.”

  “I never said he was.”

  Marc leaned over and poked a finger gently against my temple. “You don’t have to say so. I can feel you thinking it.”

  Chapter 5

  Grady’s arraignment was scheduled for the two o’clock calendar the next afternoon. He was third up, after an armed robbery and a carjacking. The judge, mumbling in the same monotone he’d used with the two preceding cases, released Grady on his own recognizance. Arraignment is one of the rare stages in the justice system where things move briskly. Grady and I were in and out in under an hour, brushing past the cluster of reporters with a terse “no comment.”

  I was grateful to see that there were no cameras. For the time being, at least, we’d been spared the humiliation of a video clip on the courthouse steps.

  “Where’s Marc?” Grady asked when we were finally alone. He was in need of a shave, and his clothes were rumpled, but he came across looking as though he’d spent the night in a high-stakes negotiation rather than jail.

  “At the office,” I explained. For all his talk about showing support, Marc had decided at the last minute that only one of us was needed at the arraignment after all. “He’d like you to call him as soon as you get a chance. Something about nervous investors.”

  “If they’re nervous now, just wait until they learn I’ve been arrested.” Grady laughed without humor. “The timing of this thing couldn’t be worse. When I screw up, I do it in neon, don’t I?”

  “I don’t imagine there’s ever a good time.”

  He rubbed his cheek. “How’s Nina taking it?”

  “She’ll be happy to have you out of jail.”

  “Not half as happy as me. It was a sobering experience.”

  We stepped outside to a gray afternoon sky, but Grady lifted his face as though basking in the sun’s warmth. He breathed deeply. “I never thought exhaust fumes would smell so sweet.” He turned abruptly. “You can get the charges dropped, can’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t even seen the woman’s statement yet.”

  “It’s ludicrous that I have to be subjected to this nightmare solely on the basis of some cockamamie allegation.”

  We stopped at the corner and waited for the light to change. “I’m going to talk to the prosecutor later this afternoon,” I told him. “I’ll try my best to convince her to drop the case, but you’d best prepare yourself for a trial.”

  “Jesus. This could go on for months.”

  “Nobody’s saying it’s going to be easy.”

  “And meanwhile the bitch who started the whole thing gets to go about her business as usual.” A spasm of irritation crossed his face. “She points the finger, cries foul, and that’s the end of it as far as she’s concerned. I could wring her goddamn neck.”

  “I wouldn’t advise it.”

  Grady awarded me with a withering glance. “It’s not just me I’m thinking about here. Can you imagine what this is going to do to Nina?”

  That, I thought, was something he should have considered before banging someone other than his wife. But Grady wasn’t expecting an answer, so I kept my opinion to myself.

  “I want her to believe me,” he said solemnly. “That’s very important, especially with . . . with everything else.”

  Again I bit my tongue—and bought a little more deeply into the lie.

  “We’ll know more how the case shapes up after I’ve had a chance to look over the police reports, particularly the statement given by the complaining witness.”

  “The complaining wit—”

  Otherwise known as the bitch. “Deirdre,” I said. “The woman making the complaint.”

  Grady looked glum. “She says I raped her. That’s what people are going to remember.”

  <><><>

  I drove Grady home, dropp
ing him off at the door without going in myself. I figured Nina and Grady had a lot of ground to cover in private.

  “I’ll come by this evening,” I told him. “Fill you in on anything new I learn.”

  Then I headed back downtown to see Madeleine Rivera, the prosecutor assigned our case. Muni court, where we’d been earlier that afternoon, is housed in a boxlike building that also holds the city jail. The offices of the district attorney, along with superior court, are located in a historic and charming, if less well-appointed, building that actually looks like a courthouse.

  I took the elevator to the ninth floor, passed through the D.A.’s reception area, and knocked on Madeleine’s door. Our paths had crossed professionally in the past, and although I didn’t know her well, we were on good terms.

  “Hi, Maddy,” I said leaning into the office. “You got a minute?”

  She looked up and smiled briefly. “Three of them. But no more. I’ve got a hearing I need to prepare for.”

  Madeleine Rivera is shorter than I am, probably about five three, and thickly built. Her hair is dark, as are her eyes. She’s not unattractive, but there’s a harshness about her that, in my opinion, detracts from her appearance.

  “Is this about the Barrett hearing?” she asked in her customary clipped tone.

  I nodded, slipping in to take the seat across from her. “You really think you have a strong enough case to take this to trial?”

  “I wouldn’t have pushed for an arrest if I thought otherwise.”

  “It’s my client’s word against the woman’s.”

  “It usually is.”

  I crossed my arms and leaned back. “Grady Barrett is going to be a strong witness.” It was the same argument I’d discounted last evening with Marc. And I wasn’t any more convinced now than I had been then. But Madeleine Rivera didn’t have to know that.

  She bunched a handful of wiry hair with her fist and pushed it off her face. “I know who he is. I saw that big write-up about him in the paper last week. One of the Bay Area’s entrepreneurial hotshots. But that doesn’t mean he’s not human. Even priests and presidents screw up.” She smiled. “Frequently by screwing around.”

  “I’m serious, Maddy. It’s not just his reputation. Grady’s a believable guy. He’s got that charming, sincere demeanor that wins people over.”

  “Are you saying that good-looking guys shouldn’t be held accountable?”

  “He didn’t rape her. The woman’s story is going to unravel before your eyes.”

  “Now, where have I heard that before?” Her voice was thick with sarcasm.

  There was a shuffling sound in the hallway. Madeleine turned and smiled at the lanky blond cop outside her door. “You waiting to see me?”

  He gave her a look, something between a grin and a wink. “I’ll catch you later.”

  She turned back to me and for just a moment I caught an unexpected softness in her eyes. Then it was gone.

  “Guys like your client think they’re above the law,” she said, sounding as though she were winding up to address a political rally. “The way they see it, they don’t have to answer to anyone. And if you ask me, they get away with it far too often. It’s an opinion shared by a lot of folks out there, I might add.”

  “Is that why you’re pushing this forward? To get even with guys who’ve managed to make it to the top?”

  Madeleine rolled her pen between her palms. “What I’m doing is upholding the law.”

  “What about this complaining witness, Deirdre Nichols?” I heard the sneer in my voice, and I didn’t like it. “How’s she going to stack up against a guy like Grady?”

  The corners of Madeleine’s mouth twitched. “Better than you think.”

  “She let herself get picked up at a bar. How smart is that?”

  “It was a private party, not that it matters. And Ms. Nichols isn’t some simpleminded airhead. She’s got a steady job and a young daughter. She does the mom thing for the kid’s birthdays and holidays. Goes to church regularly, plus she’s taking classes at night to get her degree.”

  Great. A regular Ms. Wholesome.

  “Anyway, we’ve got more than just her complaint.” Madeleine picked up a pen from her desk and clicked it a couple of times. “People at the party saw them together. Your client was drooling over her. Several people saw them leave together. And we have a witness who heard shrieks coming from her place that night.”

  “Shrieks?”

  “Okay, heated sounds. But it’s enough.”

  “So maybe they had sex. Two consenting adults and all.” That wasn’t the way Grady wanted to play it, but he might not have a choice.

  “Then why would she suddenly change her mind and cry foul? It’s not like she’s some sixteen-year-old kid with a mother looking over her shoulder.”

  I shrugged. “Women sometimes feel guilty, even in these enlightened times.”

  “Besides,” Madeleine said, brushing aside the pop psychology, “there were bruises on her arms. Big, ugly ones. And a nasty- looking abrasion on her cheek.”

  “Fresh?”

  “You betcha.” Madeleine held her pen eye level, as though sighting down the barrel of a gun. “Your client’s going to pay for this, Kali. All his money and fancy house and club memberships won’t help him one bit.” She dropped the pen and smiled. “They may even work against him.”

  Chapter 6

  Grady wasn’t at home when I dropped by later that evening.

  “He’s at the office,” Simon told me, narrowing his eyes as though I’d been personally responsible for Grady’s recent tribulations. “Would you like me to see if Mrs. Barrett is available?”

  I nodded. “Please.”

  I’d brought along a briefcase containing copies of the police report and sworn statement of the complaining witness, as well as a yellow pad of notes from my conversation with Madeleine Rivera. I’d promised Grady an update, but I was just as happy he wasn’t there. I much preferred to visit with Nina, who had been “asleep” both times I’d called earlier in the day.

  Simon returned a moment later and invited me inside. “I’m glad you’re here,” he confided. “I think she could use some cheering up.”

  I wasn’t so sure I was the right person for the job. Not under the present circumstances at any rate. I was uncomfortable with Grady’s behavior, and even more uncomfortable with his lying to Nina. I felt sure she would sense some of my awkwardness.

  I knocked on the open bedroom door. Nina was propped up in bed amid a cloud of soft down pillows—a position she’d once considered the height of luxury and had come, over the last month of forced bed rest, to detest.

  “You up to some company?” I asked.

  “Absolutely.” Nina hit the remote, lowering the volume on the television. I didn’t recognize the movie, but since it featured Cary Grant, it had to have been an old one. On the covers next to her lay an open book, spine out. The same biography she’d been reading for over a week.

  I pulled the floral chintz chair closer to the bed. “How are you doing?”

  “Truthfully?”

  I nodded.

  She picked at a thread of the comforter, then laughed. It was a harsh, almost hysterical sound devoid of any humor. I could see that her neck was red where she’d been scratching it, a nervous habit she’d had as long as I’d known her. “I think I’m about to lose my fucking mind. Aside from that, I’m feeling just dandy.”

  “You do have a lot coming at you all at once.”

  “Don’t I though.” Another stab at a laugh. “Funny thing is, before this stuff with Grady, I’d sort of made peace with the situation. I mean, we’re almost out of the woods with the baby, and the other . . . well, I’m not looking forward to the chemo, but I figured I’d buy a wig, smoke some grass, and hope to hell the drugs massacre every damn one of those cancer cells. I’d even gotten to where I could think about something else on occasion. Something normal, like having the carpets cleaned or what I’d wear to Emily’s ballet recital.
And now this . . . this mess with Grady. I can’t figure out whether I’m hurt, angry, or worried.”

  “You have every reason to be all three.” I felt my throat growing tight, as it often did when we talked of Nina’s troubles. It seemed unfair that fate had chosen to dump so many ills on such a good person.

  “It’s so hard to lie here, helpless. There’s nothing normal at all about my life anymore.”

  “Someday all of it will be behind you. Look at the progress you’ve made with the baby. He’s going to make it, Nina. And so are you.” The words sounded hollow to my own ears, but I didn’t know what else to say.

  “The power of positive thinking. If only it were that easy.” But Nina smiled, this time with genuine warmth. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, all the same.”

  She hugged herself and shifted her gaze to the window and the blue of the San Francisco Bay beyond. If you had to be confined to bed, you couldn’t ask for a better view.

  “How’s it look, Kali? The truth.”

  “I’m not sure I know enough yet to form an opinion.”

  “First impression, then.”

  “Better than I expected.” Based on the reports at least.

  The woman had admitted that she’d been drinking, that she and Grady had been “flirting,” as she put it, and dancing “close.” She acknowledged that she’d invited him in after he’d given her a ride home. The fact that the alleged rape occurred on a Saturday and she hadn’t reported it until Tuesday cut in our favor, as well.

  On the other hand, there were the bruises. They weren’t as ugly as Madeleine Rivera had suggested, at least not in the photograph I’d been given, but they weren’t the sort of thing you got bumping into an open door either.

  “How come Marc wasn’t there today?” she asked.

  “He’s got his hands full at ComTec. Damage control.” I tried to make light of it, but I was irked that Marc had tossed it in my lap at the last minute. Rape defense attorney wasn’t a title I much wanted.

  Nina twisted her wedding ring. “Do you know anything about the woman?”