True Intent

by Michael Stagg

  Pearson preened as if he’d brought down a dangerous crime boss.

  “Because of the police department’s swift action, we have charged Ms. Vila with the first-degree murder of Richard Phillips. Once the case has been assigned to a judge, we will have a better idea of when the case will proceed to trial.”

  A reporter raised his hand and said, “Ms. Lance, what took so long to make an arrest?”

  “This case required cooperation between several investigatory units,” Victoria said. “It was further complicated by the fact that both the victim and the defendant lived outside of the state. All things considered, we believe that the investigation was concluded and the arrest made fairly expeditiously.”

  Another reporter. “Ms. Lance, it has been well-documented that Mr. Phillips died while dancing at a wedding. How does the state claim that Ms. Vila killed him?”

  “It would be inappropriate for me to comment on the evidence at this time. Rest assured that we will present a case to the jury that we believe will lead to a conviction.”

  “Do you intend to seek the death penalty?” said another reporter.

  “At this point, we do not,” said Ms. Lance. “That could change if additional evidence is uncovered between now and trial.”

  Victoria Lance looked at Pearson and LaBeau, then said, “That is the only comment we have at this time. We’ll issue additional statements when necessary.”

  It was clear that most of the reporters were in the middle of a live broadcast because, rather than shout more questions, they all jotted on notepads and tablets and phones, and scattered to their camera operators to set up for their live shots. Chief LaBeau and Mitch Pearson shook Victoria Lance's hand and walked down the steps. Victoria Lance went back into the courthouse, presumably to her office.

  I decided I should follow her.

  The Carrefour courthouse had been built in the late 1800s so it was all stone columns and high ceilings and heavy wooden doors. I climbed the stone stairs to the second floor and went to the door that had "Victoria Lance, Prosecutor," stenciled on the frosted glass in black paint. The door led me to a secretarial station and counter which was empty since it was a Saturday. I walked around the counter to another set of double doors, which were open, and saw Victoria Lance standing behind her desk, folding a tablet and sliding it into a case. She saw me and smiled. “Hello, Nate.”

  Victoria Lance was a local but she was about ten years older than me, just old enough so that we really hadn't run in the same circles growing up. Plus she was a Carrefour South girl who’d stayed on the Ohio side of the line while, well, I’d spent most my time in Michigan and parts north. I knew her from the time I had worked in the prosecutor’s office right out of law school, but, with one exception, we hadn’t dealt with each other much then either since I’d spent most of my time doing entry-level misdemeanors while she, being ten years older, was already handling felonies and murders.

  Victoria had shoulder length blonde hair, neatly cut, neither pulled back severely nor too long. Her suit was perfectly tailored and perfectly neutral. She wore heels that were neither too high nor too flat and she shook my hand in precisely the right way. I knew her well enough to know that this was entirely by design. Not a single thing in her appearance would offend anyone so that she was free to convince them that the defendant sitting there in front of them was guilty as hell and deserved to be locked up for the rest of his, or her, natural life.

  “I haven't seen you in a while,” said Victoria. “Didn't think you'd be getting back into the criminal game after you left for the big time.”

  I smiled back and shrugged. “Life takes strange turns.”

  “It certainly does. Like when you returned out of nowhere to beat Jeff Hanson’s ass last summer. Congratulations.”

  Jeff had been the prosecutor I’d faced on the Hank Braggi murder trial. “Jeff tried a great case.”

  Victoria's smile was winter. “Jeff lost.”

  I shrugged. “If you're not trying them, you're not losing them.”

  “True. Although as prosecutors, we get to pick the charge so we shouldn’t lose the case. That's half the job.”

  “Speaking of charges, I saw the press conference.”

  She nodded.

  “How is the prosecutor's office claiming that Ms. Vila killed Mr. Phillips?”

  “Are you representing Ms. Vila?”

  “I have been.”

  “That's nice. Are you representing her in this trial?”

  I thought. “I don't know for sure yet.”

  “Well, if you do represent her, I'll be happy to share everything we have with you. If you don't, I'm afraid I have no comment.” Victoria pulled a piece of paper out of her case. “Here’s a copy of the indictment we filed. It’s public record. Give it to whomever her attorney turns out to be.”

  I scanned it. “This just says she committed first degree murder, Victoria. It doesn’t say what you claim she did.”

  Victoria gave me a smile that was all mouth and no eyes. “Have you been out of the criminal game that long, Nate? You know we don’t have to say how the death was caused in the indictment.”

  I tried another tack. “I’ve seen the autopsy,” I said. “I can’t see how it’s possible to support that charge.”

  Victoria zipped her tablet case shut. “We feel very comfortable that it is. We think that when we're done, a jury will too.” She checked her watch. “My sitter made it very clear to me that she has a date tonight. Goodnight, Nate.”

  “Goodnight, Victoria.”

  “We might be spending a lot of time together,” she said as she walked by. “Call me Vicki.” Then she turned off the office light and walked out the door, leaving me there in the dark.

  I didn't think that was a mistake.

  I went back to the jail to see what I needed to do to release Liselle.

  16

  The Carrefour jail was just four blocks away so it didn't take me long to get back there. I checked in and told the guard I was there to see Liselle Vila. The guard, who looked like a stocky, buzz-cutted stereotype of his profession, clicked his mouse and checked his screen with a bored expression before he said, “Is that ‘V’ as in ‘Victor?’”

  “Yes.”

  He clicked a couple of more times before his expression changed from boredom to interest. “She’s been photographed and printed so it shouldn’t be too much longer. You her boyfriend?”

  “Lawyer.”

  He stood. “I’ll go back and check on her for you.”

  “Don’t you need to mind your station?”

  He didn’t take his eyes off the screen. “It’ll only take a minute. Have a seat.” Then he left.

  I sat down and shot a text to Izzy, asking after James. I didn't get a reply right away. I glanced at the time and realized James might still be in surgery. I switched then to the newsfeeds and read about the press conference. They were filled with headlines about a beautiful young woman murdering a rich old man but had little in the way of facts.

  About ten minutes later, the guard returned, knocked at the glass, and waved me through. On the other side of the door, he led me back to an interview room designed for inmates and their attorneys. When I arrived, Liselle was already there. She wasn't shackled, which I took to be a good sign.

  I nodded to the guard, who stared at Liselle for longer than would be appropriate in the outside world, then left.

  I needed to get Liselle out of here as quickly as possible.

  “Did you say anything?” I said.

  Liselle shook her head.

  “Did they try to question you?”

  “A little. On the way over here, Pearson kept asking a uniformed officer why he thought I did it.”

  “You didn’t say anything, did you?”

  She shook her head. “You told me not to talk.”

  “Good job. They held a press conference already.”

  Liselle's eyes widened. “What did they say?”

  “Nothing reall
y. Just that you'd been arrested.”

  “This is ridiculous. How are they even saying I killed him?”

  “They're not. I tried to talk to the prosecutor, but she would only give me the file if I confirmed that I'm your lawyer.”

  It didn't seem possible but Liselle's eyes grew wider. “Aren't you?”

  “Do you want me to be?”

  “Nate, I don't know anybody else.”

  “I can find somebody for you if you'd like.”

  “But you handle these kinds of cases, right?”

  “I have. But I can find you someone who's done more.”

  Liselle shook her head. “I trust you.”

  “Does that mean you want me to represent you?”

  “Yes, please. What will it cost?”

  I told her. I was coming to know Liselle but I really had no idea about her means or her attitude toward this kind of thing so after I told her, I said, “I can refer you to someone else if you’d like.”

  She shook her head. “I want you. Next week okay?”

  “Yes. You’ll have to post a bond too. It'll be high since this is a murder case.”

  Liselle looked around the cinderblock room. “Then I'll have to pay it. I'm not staying here.”

  “You'll have to until you’re arraigned.”

  That got her attention. “How long will that be?”

  “As long as three days.”

  “They can hold me here ‘til then?”

  “Maybe longer. It depends on whether you bond out. I'll get to work on that too.”

  “Nate, I need you to get me out of here.”

  “I'll try.”

  She looked at me then, right in the eyes for a good five seconds before she said, “I didn't do it.”

  “I believe you.”

  She looked at me a moment longer until she finally looked away and said, “How is James?”

  “I'm not sure. I checked before I came in but Izzy hasn't gotten back to me.”

  “Will you let me know?”

  “Of course. Are you going to be okay?”

  “I'll have to be. I'll see that you’re paid as soon as I get out.”

  “I'll have a bail bondsman at the arraignment.”

  “Good. Thank you, Nate.”

  “You're welcome.”

  The guard banged on the door before I could bang for him, letting us know that our time was up.

  “We should be able to get you out of here,” I said.

  “Soon I hope,” she said.

  “Me too.” I smiled and then I left.

  It was getting late but I still hadn’t heard from Izzy so I went back to the hospital. I found out that James was out of surgery and had been placed in a room so I headed up to the pediatric ward. My brother Mark was in the waiting room, sipping coffee, waiting for me.

  “How is he?” I said.

  “Out of surgery, sleeping now.”

  “How did it go?”

  “As well as can be expected. They were able to save the leg, so that’s good.”

  I remembered the shards of bone sticking out in both directions and it seemed to me that saving the leg was no mean feat. “Good.”

  “They put pins and a plate in. They’re hopeful,” he cleared his throat, “they’re hopeful that it will heal straight. It’s hard to tell right now. There were a lot of fragments. And the growth plate’s involved at both ends of the bone so the doctor said it’s 50-50 whether that leg grows to the same size as the other one.”

  “Just wait and see?”

  Mark nodded.

  I smiled. “He’ll be climbing again before you know it.”

  “If he does, I’ll whip his ass.” My younger brother is a tool and die maker for Ford. He’s quiet and he’s by far the toughest of us three brothers, but when it comes to his kids? Well, with his kids, it’s another matter entirely. He started to speak, stopped, took a sip of coffee, then said, “The doctor said he could’ve bled out, Nate. Thanks.”

  I waved a hand.

  “I mean it.”

  “I know.” I looked away. “Family gone?”

  Mark nodded. “Mom and Dad stayed until he was out of surgery and in the room. Tom and Kate took the girls and went to pick up Justin and Joe for us. They’re going to watch them tonight.”

  “You staying here?”

  Mark nodded. “They only let two people back at a time. Do you want to see him?”

  “Do you mind?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll go get some more coffee.”

  “Thanks.”

  He told me the room number and I found it just one bend of the hall later. James was lying in bed but I didn’t realize it was him at first. What I saw was a contraption of pulleys with a black sling and steel pins and a small foot sticking out the end. I realized the contraption was elevating James’s leg. Once I realized what I was looking at, I saw the blond hair and the pale face of my sleeping nephew.

  I came around to the other side of the bed and found Izzy sitting in a chair next to the bed holding James’s hand. She smiled a little, waved me over, and made me bend down so she could squeeze my neck with her free arm. “Thank you.”

  “He’s a tough kid, Izzy.”

  “Don’t deflect, asshole. Say you’re welcome.”

  I smiled. “You’re welcome. Has he been awake?”

  Izzy shook her head. “They’re going to keep him pretty doped up for a few days. The pain’s going to be bad.”

  “Mark said the operation went well?”

  “As well as can be expected,” she said. She didn’t seem to want to talk about it so I pulled up a chair and sat next to her. “Need a break?”

  “Not now, thanks. Mark and I will switch off a little later.”

  We’d only sat there for a little bit when a small, spare man dressed in light green scrubs came into the room. He was short, barely five and a half feet tall, with salt and pepper hair and black glasses.

  Izzy sat up. “Hi, Dr. Norton.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Shepherd.” Dr. Norton came around and checked the monitors and the IVs before he took James’s pulse in his wrists and his ankles. He spent a while checking James’s elevated toes and leg. “I wanted to take one more look before I go home tonight but I’ll be back in the morning.”

  Izzy nodded.

  “We’re going to be keeping an eye on these toes. A little swelling is normal but if you notice a lot of it, or redness or heat, I want you to tell the nurse, okay?”

  “Yes.” Izzy looked at me. “Dr. Norton is the surgeon who saved James’s leg.”

  Dr. Norton nodded in my general direction while keeping his eyes on James. “We have a good team here, Mrs. Shepherd. Your son is very lucky he was brought here so quickly.”

  “I was just thanking my brother-in-law here for that.”

  Dr. Norton straightened and looked at me directly for the first time. “You’re the one who found him?”

  I nodded.

  “Packing the leg with Achillea millefolium was an astute move, son.”

  “With what?” I said.

  “With yarrow.” My expression must have still looked confused because he said, “The flowers. It was hell to clean them out but they definitely slowed the bleeding. That made a difference.”

  I really didn’t have anything to add to that so I nodded and it appeared that Dr. Norton’s scientific interest in me had likewise departed. “I’ll be back tomorrow Mrs. Shepherd,” he said. “James is going to be uncomfortable so we’re going to keep the pain meds high for a while. Don’t be afraid to ask for them.”

  “I won’t. Thanks, Doctor.”

  Dr. Norton nodded again and scooted out.

  Izzy immediately put a hand on James’s toes and checked them.

  “Take a picture,” I said. “It’ll give you something to compare with if you’re not sure.”

  “Good idea.” She pulled out her phone and readied the camera. “What’s he talking about with the flowers?”

  “When we found him, the wom
an I was with grabbed some yarrow and added it to the wrapping.”

  “That helps?”

  “Apparently.”

  Izzy took a couple of pictures. “That the woman sitting with the girls when we got here?”

  I nodded.

  Izzy looked back at James. “Hell of a date.”

  I realized Izzy had been at the information desk when Liselle was arrested. “It wasn’t a date,” I said. “She’s a client.”

  “Does that matter?”

  “It does.”

  “Then you should have her get another lawyer.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “That’s a shame. What kind of case?”

  I decided now wasn’t the best time to explain how I’d come to bring an accused murderer to help her son. “I’ll know for sure in a few days.”

  My response barely registered as Izzy settled back in next to James. I put my hand on her shoulder and said, “I should let Mark back here. Let me know how he’s doing?”

  Izzy put her hand over mine. “I will. Thanks.”

  I put a hand on James’s shoulder and kissed his forehead. “See you, Troll,” I said and started out of the room.

  James stirred. He opened his eyes a little, made a noise, and said, “Hi, Mom.”

  Izzy leaned forward and put a hand on his forehead. “Hi, baby. How are you doing?”

  “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “I saw a hawk!”

  Izzy smiled and smoothed his hair. “You did?”

  “Right there in the tree,” James said.

  “I’ll go get Mark,” I whispered and Izzy nodded without looking away.

  I found Mark, let him know that James was awake, then left the hospital.

  I had a bond to arrange.

  17