Sydney looked back at Alex as she slipped the phone into a side pocket on her briefcase.
“Sorry about that,” she said. “It was the boss.”
“No problem,” Alex said. “Calling with appropriate congratulations, I take it?” They continued toward the elevators.
“Yeah. So will you be here for sentencing?” Sydney asked, hoping to hear a positive answer.
“I’ll certainly try, as long as I don’t get tied up in the field.”
August twenty-fifth...
“HAS THE JURY arrived at a verdict with respect to the penalty in this case?” The question from the judge was directed at the jury foreperson, standing once again before a packed court.
“We have, Your Honor.”
“Please read the verdict.”
“We, the jury, in the above entitled action, having found Matthew James Sinclair guilty of first degree murder in count one, and having found the special circumstances to be true, fix the penalty at death.”
The jury foreperson paused before continuing. Alex glanced away from him to Sydney. She watched as her shoulder’s seemed to relax just barely, though her eyes never left the jury.
“We the jury, in the above entitled action, having found Matthew James Sinclair guilty of first degree murder in count two, and having found the special circumstances to be true, fix the penalty at death.”
Once again the verdicts went on, twelve counts, twelve death penalties. When the foreman finished the judge thanked the jury for their service and excused them.
Two weeks later they were all back in court again for the formal sentencing hearing. The judge wasted no time in announcing his determination.
“Mr. Sinclair, it is my considered judgment that not only is the death penalty appropriate, but it is almost compelled by the circumstances. I must agree with the prosecutor that if this is not a proper case for the death penalty, then there likely never will be.”
Shortly thereafter the gavel sounded and the judge moved to exit the courtroom as the bailiffs moved forward to escort Sinclair back to his cell to await final transportation to Death Row at the California State Prison at San Quentin. Once again his eyes were fixed to Sydney as he was pulled from the room, the unwavering sinister look locked onto hers and refused to release her until, once again, the broad uniformed presence of Sergeant Chambers stepped between them, breaking the connection.
Chapter Three
SYDNEY SAT AT her desk just a couple of days after the conclusion of the trial, her mind drifting back again to that day in court immediately after the judge read the sentence, when she looked over at Sinclair and discovered him staring back at her across the twelve-foot distance. Even now she shivered as she remembered the sickening smile and sadistically lustful look in his eyes. She could still hear him laughing until he finally faded out of earshot in the cells to the rear of the courtroom.
She found Sinclair’s attention and statements frightening, and the trial had been exhausting and disturbing. It was the most difficult of her career. The one positive thing that came out of the experience was her introduction to Sergeant Alexandria Chambers. They had spent several “working lunches” together both before and during the trial.
Her mind effortlessly formed a picture of Sergeant Chambers. She was five-foot-nine, with short light brown hair and hazel eyes, and an athletic, muscular build. Even out of uniform, some might find Sergeant Chambers intimidating or imposing. As time had gone on Sydney developed a clear understanding of how this officer had been capable of subduing the fleeing serial murderer.
Sydney was impressed by Sergeant Chambers’s confidence, strength and professionalism during the trial. Chambers, a seasoned officer of fifteen years, remained calm, clear and concise in her testimony and lengthy cross-examination.
Even under these challenging circumstances, Sydney had to admit the officer had not required anywhere near the amount of trial “prep” she had given her. Sydney had looked forward to their time together, and even manufactured the necessity or opportunity to meet. This confused her, as she had never had an issue with maintaining a professional distance. There were times when not only co-workers but also victims and witnesses had extended overtures toward her. She had never responded nor invited that kind of attention, had never felt the impulse to.
Sydney’s thoughts returned to her current circumstances and she made a concerted effort to clear her mind and return to the work at hand. But later that same day she turned to her best friend to bounce her feelings off him. Tyler Houston was also an assistant district attorney working in the same downtown office. The two had met in college at the University of Southern California. Within weeks they were virtually inseparable, their bond soon growing to the point where Tyler revealed that he was gay. They had partied together, studied together, graduated together and then moved on to USC Law School. They later graduated then passed the bar together. Then both joined the ranks of the District Attorney’s Office despite both receiving lucrative offers from high level private firms. They had turned to each other and shared everything for almost their entire adult life.
As they sat in the empty office spaces later that evening, Sydney relayed to him what had happened in the courtroom after the sentencing hearing. Without realizing the wistful nature of her voice, she revealed to him how she had been somehow comforted by the presence of the sergeant.
“It was nice to have her there, even though he was in chains. She’s so obviously capable,” she said. “And fearless.”
Tyler seemed to read more into it. “And attractive?” he asked.
“What on earth are you talking about?” Sydney said, flustered, turning away from Tyler and busying her hands by moving paper around her desk.
“I couldn’t help but notice you guys spent a lot of time together during the trial,” he said. “You seemed to, what’s the word I’m looking for? Bond? Yes, bond, quite quickly. You know she’s a lesbian, right?”
“Please. We were together for trial prep and we caught a couple lunches during testimony because we had to discuss the progress of the case. And yes, I had presumed she was a lesbian. But it’s not as if I am.”
“Really? I always thought you were an open spirit, just looking for your soul mate,” he said with a smile. “It certainly doesn’t surprise me that your soul mate could be a woman. Don’t forget, I was at that homecoming party back in college. You know the one I’m talking about.”
Sydney did remember exactly what he was talking about. That specific party she had attended with her boyfriend at the time. For reasons Sydney no longer remembered, they had not been getting along too well. Midway through the party they had a heated argument that ended when Sydney stormed out to the secluded back porch of the residence. There a woman she had never seen before approached her. The two women struck up a conversation and it soon became apparent the woman was a lesbian and was interested in Sydney. Shortly afterwards, when Sydney saw her boyfriend watching through a nearby window, she decided to play into the flirtatious banter, then allowed it to go further as they had embraced passionately and kissed.
Unbeknownst to Sydney at the time, Tyler had also gone in search of her and observed the intimate interaction on the porch, a fact he revealed to her later with significant glee.
Sydney never saw the woman again after the party. She later thought she had engaged in the encounter out of spite and anger, in an effort to make her boyfriend jealous, assisted by the fact she had way too much to drink that night. The truth was she hadn’t been drinking that heavily. She had found the woman attractive and couldn’t deny she enjoyed the physical experience. It felt somehow right. But afterwards she returned to her normal dating pattern, succumbing to social expectations.
Sydney was an exceptionally attractive woman who was never short of attention from the men around her. She had certainly been active in the dating scene throughout her thirty-five years. She’d been sexually attracted to, and sexually active with, several men over the years and had partaken in
a few moderate length committed and monogamous relationships. She’d even flirted with marriage once, but broke the engagement after deciding the relationship lacked that “real spark.”
Sydney wondered if this was what that “real spark” felt like. What exactly was it she was feeling toward this handsome and commanding woman? If she was, why had she never been attracted to, much less felt this way, about any other woman? Of course, she’d never felt this way so quickly about a man, either. Sydney shook her head, now more confused by her attraction to Sergeant Chambers.
A WEEK AFTER the trial and formal sentencing concluded, Sydney was attempting to put Sinclair’s acts, and the disturbing veiled threat behind her. She was forced to revisit the unsettling discomfort one morning when a dozen white roses arrived for her at the office. She returned from a hearing to find them sitting on her desk. When she opened the card it read almost the same as his statement to her that day.
Looking forward to spending some time alone with you.
There was no name or signature, but there was no doubt in her mind who the flowers were from. Cold fear washed over her and she backed away from the desk. She exited her office, leaving the roses sitting untouched, and quickly walked down the hall to Tyler’s office. He looked up as she entered.
“Syd, what’s wrong?”
“I just got a flower delivery, white roses, and this.” She handed him the card that arrived with the roses. He read the note, then re-read it before looking up at her.
“Isn’t that—,” he began, then stopped when she nodded.
“Yep, it’s exactly what he said to me in the courtroom. Word for word.”
“We need to call someone. Who’s the detective who handled the case? The primary investigator?”
“Chuck Severs. His partner was Robert Kim, Robbery Homicide Division. His number is in my cell, which is in my bag, in my office.” Sydney looked up at Tyler. “I don’t really want to go back in there right now with those...”
“Don’t worry about it. I can track him down.” He leaned forward and began flicking through his rolodex. He found the number he was looking for and dialed.
“Marla? It’s Tyler. Listen, sweetheart, I need you track down one of your detectives over there. I don’t have his cell number...yes, Chuck Severs. Can you tell him it’s regarding the Sinclair-White Roses case and it’s urgent...yes, give him my direct office line...thanks, hon. We’ll be waiting for his call.” He hung up and looked up at Sydney with a smile. “You don’t need to know anyone else when you have an in with the commanding officer’s secretary,” he said with a wink.
Tyler’s phone rang less than five minutes later. “Tyler Houston. Yes, detective, thank you for returning my call so quickly. There’s been an incident here at the D.A.’s office.”
Tyler looked over at Sydney and raised an eyebrow in question. She nodded her head to indicate she would speak to the detective as Tyler continued. “Yes, we think it’s related. It involves Sydney Rutledge, the D.A. who handled the case...yes, she’s right here, hold on.” He handed the phone across the desk.
“Hello, detective.”
“Ms. Rutledge. What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I guess. I returned from court this morning to find a dozen roses had been delivered to me. White roses, and there was a card attached. The note on the card is a direct quote of something Sinclair said to me in the courtroom at the end of the trial.”
“Is it a threat?”
“Yes. Well, maybe not exactly. I don’t know I guess. It felt like one at the time, and now...” Sydney took a deep breath.
“No problem, Sydney,” Chuck said in an understanding voice. “What does it say exactly?” Sydney glanced at the card sitting on the desk in front of Tyler. She didn’t have to read it to remember the statement Sinclair had made.
“It says, looking forward to spending some time alone with you. Those were his exact words that day. I remember them distinctly.”
“Yeah, I remember that as well. Do you know what company delivered the flowers? Does the card say?” Sydney reached over the desk and retrieved the card, looking at it then turning it over.
“Yes, it says here on the back of the card, Spring Street Flowers.”
“Okay. Hang tight. Let me grab my partner and one of us will come to you now, and we’ll also check on the flower delivery to see what we can figure out.”
“Thank you, detective.” Sydney hung up and looked up at Tyler. “They’re on their way.”
“I better let Stan know,” Tyler said. “I’ll also let Cathy at the front desk know to send them back here to my office first.” He walked around his desk toward the door, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze as he passed by. “You and I are going to dinner tonight. I don’t want to hear any argument from you.”
Sydney couldn’t help but smile at his gentle demand. She was thankful for his mothering. She definitely didn’t want to spend the evening alone. She let her head fall back against the chair, suddenly feeling drained. A collage of images went through her mind, consisting of crime scene photos, autopsy details, and a replay of Sinclair’s eyes fixed on her as he was dragged from the courtroom. She had no doubt the creepy veiled threat, accompanied by her intimate knowledge of the torture, rape and murder case, would keep her awake for many nights to come.
TWO DAYS LATER Sydney was walking in the hallway between court rooms, her attention focused on the files she was shuffling in her arms when a familiar voice caught her attention. She turned to see Sergeant Chambers approaching.
“Good morning, Sergeant Chambers.”
“Hi. Uh, how’re you doing?”
Sydney thought she picked up on a slight nervousness in the sergeant’s demeanor, but immediately discounted it as her imagination.
“I’m okay,” she replied. “Getting back in the swing of daily prelims now that the trial’s over.” Sydney indicated the stack of case files in her arms.
“I ran into Detective Severs yesterday. He mentioned the roses. Are you, uh, I mean, is everything okay?”
Sydney’s heart skipped a beat at her obvious concern. “Yeah, I think I’m okay,” she replied. “It was a little creepy, I have to admit. Did the detective tell you about the aunt?”
“Oh, yeah,” Alex nodded and rolled her eyes. “It always helps to have an evangelical aunt with a slight case of dementia. He convinced her he’d found God in prison and needed to make his apologies to those he’d offended.”
“I guess so,” Sydney said. “The detective told me he convinced her to pass along the request to some friend of his. He gave her the phone number to call and the message to deliver. They were able to track the number, but it’s one of those pre-paid throw away cell phones. So we’ll never know who helped him.”
“Well, you know the crazy fan club members that serial killers always pick up. And despite the system they always find a way to make contact with these psychos. They’re freaks, but more often than not they’re harmless. And they’ve restricted Sinclair’s contact with anyone except his attorneys now, so I don’t think you’ll have any more issues with him.”
Sydney appreciated Sergeant Chambers’s attempts to make her feel better about the incident. A smile graced her lips at Sergeant Chambers’s reassuring words. She lost herself looking into the hazel eyes of the woman standing before her and was unsure exactly how long the pause in the conversation lasted when she saw those same eyes blink and look down at the floor.
Was the tall sergeant nervous? Sydney discounted that thought as impossible. Surely she was reading way too much into her body language. And why was she doing that? Why was she reacting this way? As the sergeant asked her which court she was heading to next then began walking with her in that direction, Sydney wondered why she once again found herself searching for excuses to prolong the conversation.
THE NEXT DAY, back in Los Angeles, Sydney made her way toward her car at the end of a hectic day in and out of various court hearings. As she walked through the garage beneath
the courts building she noted an object on the front windshield of her car. When she recognized the object she stopped short. Propped against her windshield was a single white rose, starkly noticeable against the dark background of her graphite black Mercedes Benz SL500 convertible.
Sydney looked at the rose from several feet away for a few seconds, then took a deep breath, willing herself to calm and pushing the tingle of fear aside. She straightened her shoulders, then walked up to her vehicle and removed the rose, walking to a trashcan several parking spaces away and throwing it unceremoniously in the receptacle. She quickly returned to her vehicle, entered and drove from the garage. On her way home she alternately cursed herself for her sudden stab of fear and then the person who put the rose there in the first place. By the time she arrived home she’d convinced herself it was a vicious and cruel joke, likely perpetrated by some other employee within the criminal courts building.
For the life of her, however, she couldn’t think of a likely offender. She was determined not to allow it to bother her or to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing a reaction.
Chapter Four
A COUPLE OF weeks later, on a late afternoon midway through the court week, Sydney made her way through the crowded fifteenth floor hallway of the courthouse, having been held late in court on an evidentiary suppression hearing. As she made her way toward the central elevators, she was suddenly aware of a commotion within one of the courtrooms. The yelling and profanity could be heard through the double doors and over the usual noise of the busy outer hallway. Male voices were raised in anger, followed by what sounded like a violent physical altercation. Sydney began to back away from the doors in question when suddenly they crashed open and several bodies came barreling out into the hallway.
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