“Let’s focus on what happened with Mr. Bishop and Sidney McCann.”
“So, I stay with Mr. Bishop for two weeks before it begins.”
“What begins?”
“What do you think?” she snapped.
“Did he abuse you?”
“Every single night for five months, before I hit him with a frying pan and told him that I was going to the cops.”
“And where is Mr. Bishop now?”
“Don’t know.”
“Why not?”
“He ran away.” She looked away, and brushed the tip of her nose. “A day after I left, he’d packed up all his things and I was told by his landlord that he’d left the country.”
“And you think Sidney McCann was the man that told Mr. Bishop about you? You think McCann got your information, gave your details to Bishop and received money in return?”
“That’s all I could think of. That’s the only reason he would be saying sorry. He must’ve been paid to provide Mr. Bishop with the names of vulnerable girls. Sort of like a human trafficking ring.” She leaned so far forward that her chest was touching the edge of the table. “So, I snapped.”
“At Sidney McCann?”
“I hit him. Mr. Bishop never saw justice, so I was determined to deal it out to this guy that set me up.” She stared at the table. “I punched him a lot. Even when he was on the ground. That hate just came out of me and I’m not sure where from. It was rage, pure rage, and I hit him hard, then I spat on him. There have only ever been two people that I’ve hit—Mr. Bishop and this guy. So I took his wallet, and any money he had. I figured I was owed that after what he put me through.”
“And then?”
“And then I left. I never saw him again.” She looked at the wall. “He was alive when I left, but maybe I did kill him. Maybe those punches left him out cold.”
“Nina, I don’t want you to talk to anyone else about this. Don’t mention that night to anyone but me. You can’t talk to the guards, a priest, not even your cellmate. Understood?”
She nodded.
“Now, what else can you remember about that night eight months ago?”
“Not a lot.” She looked sheepish. “I remember meeting my boyfriend later that night, because he thought that this guy was trying to use me. He thought that he was trying to take advantage of me. I told him that he wasn’t, but he wouldn’t believe me. I don’t think my boyfriend saw this guy again. He would’ve told me if he did. Emmett and I went different ways after some point in the night. We had an argument and he went one way and I ran the other way.”
“Boyfriend’s name?”
“Emmett.”
Hunter waited, pen ready.
“Emmett Jayson.”
“One week before Sidney McCann disappeared, he came to the shelter where you were staying and asked for you by name. He knew your name. That day that he found you wasn’t a coincidence. So you think this was about his apology?”
“All I was told was that a retired cop was looking for me.”
Hunter didn’t like the girl’s chances—not of getting off, not of getting free, and not even of getting a good deal.
“The prosecution has built quite the case against you already.” Hunter stated as he opened another file on McCann’s death and Nina’s subsequent arrest. “Sidney McCann died as a result of blood loss after he sustained an injury to the back of his skull. He was then wrapped in trash bags with rocks tied to his feet, and dumped in the Chicago River. According to the report, he was dead long before his body was thrown into the river. The injuries he sustained to the back of his head stopped the flow of blood to his brain. The prosecution has three witnesses that place you with Sidney McCann, two of whom claim they saw you punch him, on the last night he was seen alive. His wife, Li McCann, reported him missing the next day. You used his credit card five days after he went missing, and you were caught that day, although McCann was only reported as a missing person at the time. At the time, you stated that you had never seen McCann and you found the wallet on the sidewalk. That previous lie to the police doesn’t look good for you. Once they found McCann’s body in the river, you were arrested. The prosecution will show more evidence at your trial, but that’s the evidence you were arrested on. That’s strong evidence, Nina. That’s going to be hard to disprove in a court of law.”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Nina blinked back tears. “But if I’m in here, I can survive. I can still do stuff, maybe even get my college degree. I want to become a nurse. I want to help people.”
Hunter drummed his fingers on the table.
Nina Aisha didn’t have the feel of a killer. She wasn’t arrogant, callous, or edgy. Hunter had the feeling that if she killed anyone, she would be guarded. And if it was an accident, she would be remorseful.
She was neither.
Five days after Sidney McCann was last seen, eight months before his body was found, Nina tried to use his credit card at a sandwich shop. The uniformed cops were close by and when they got the call about a stolen credit card, they found Nina trying to walk out of the shop. Upon her arrest, she stated she found the wallet on the street, and they released her with a warning. When they found McCann’s body, she was arrested within days.
“Nina, why don’t you tell me about yourself.”
She tried to fight it, tried to resist it, but the strong wall around her emotions finally broke down as she recounted her life. Once she started, she didn’t stop. She told her lawyer that she had lost her family when she was young, never settled in one place for long, and didn’t have any connections. She’d been on the streets for the last two years, but had been staying in a shelter for young women, completing her high school certificate. She was smart, mostly A’s at school, but it was hard to focus on schooling when she was struggling to find enough food every day.
That seemed to be her life—an offer of hope, a chance at a new life, only to be taken away by someone’s ill morals. Her honest tears were tugging on Hunter’s heartstrings, and he didn’t appreciate that one bit.
“Part of being a criminal lawyer is that we have to work out the best outcome for these charges. If it doesn’t look like we can defend you against the charges in court, then we may be able to make a good deal with the prosecution. If that’s the case, then we will work for the best deal possible, but you may have to do prison time.”
“It’s ok,” Nina shrugged. “There’s no men in here.”
“No men?”
“Except for the guards, I guess. Men… my whole life they’ve done bad things to me.”
A long silent pause spread over the room.
“I think that will do for this discussion.” Hunter closed the file, not wanting to be brought further into the emotional moment. “Thank you for being honest, Nina.”
“So, does this mean you’ll get me out of here?” Nina asked, almost begging.
“We’ll be in touch soon.”
Hunter left the meeting feeling unconvinced about being able to win the case, however he knew that for the girl’s sake, he would do everything he could to get the best outcome for her. He was willing to fight for Nina Aisha.
But there was something else driving Hunter, another powerful reason to take the case to court.
And he was sure that would be exposed soon.
Chapter 5
The morning spring air hit Esther Wright hard as she walked out of the coffee shop, sending a shiver up her spine, almost causing her to spill her coffee. She didn’t like the cold, she hated the wind even more, and the city had been experiencing an unusually heavy icy snap in late March. She had checked the weather report when she rolled over in bed, as she did every morning, but when she looked out the window at the blue sky, she chose to ignore the information from the meteorologists. It was a decision she would regret.
That morning, she had followed her habitual routine—she had sat in traffic for far too long, parked in the lot under the office building, waved to the parking attendant, and walked to
the coffee shop. The barista had made small talk about the cold snap, joking that he should bring his skis to work, and she offered him a light smile, but her mind was elsewhere.
It was with Tex, her work, and her future. She loved her job, it was the best one she had ever had, but she loathed his obsession with work. When he was focused, when he was determined to win a case, everything else was forgotten about. It was commendable, even admirable, that he fought so hard for justice, that he fought so hard to help others, but she wasn’t sure it was the future she wanted.
Law and justice were her boss’s passions, his calling in life, and she didn’t want to challenge that. There was justice to be served, people to help, but it wasn’t her calling. She loved to paint, to write, and even just to sit and watch people come and go in the world.
As soon as Hunter took on the case for the accused young woman, Esther knew that she wouldn’t have the time to paint in the next five months. She would be pulling ten to twelve hour days, and would be too tired in her downtime. She loved her work, she loved that she was a part of something that changed people’s lives, part of something bigger than herself, but she also had her own life to live.
Although early in the morning, the office workers were perfectly dressed in their fine suits, the construction workers already stunk of nicotine, and the cycle delivery workers were zipping through the crowds on their bikes. The steps to the coffee shop were a hustle of people going someplace at some time for some reason. Nobody looked happy as they pushed past each other, but then, they were on their way into work for another weekday morning. A well-dressed couple, in their early forties, were arguing on the street—the man pleading for the woman to listen to his point of view, and the woman standing with her arms crossed, not looking the man in the eyes.
Esther slowed as she walked past them, hoping to catch a snippet of what they were arguing about. His text messages to another woman, apparently. As Esther slowly walked past, she caught sight of another woman standing by the wall at the edge of the street, pretending to read something on her phone, but clearly more interested in the argument of the strangers. The woman looked up from her phone, made a gesture to Esther about the couple, and then smiled.
Esther returned the smile, before realizing that she was smiling about the distress of others. She put her head down, turned and walked between the arguing couple.
“Excuse me,” she said as she walked between them on the busy street. “I didn’t mean to interrupt such beautiful people.”
That one moment of distraction, that one moment of interruption, broke their focus on winning the argument. The couple were quiet as Esther walked across the street at the traffic lights. Once across the street, she turned and looked back to the couple who were hugging in a moment of forgiveness. She caught the eye of the watching woman again, who held up her thumb in a show of a job well-done. Esther smiled, a small spring in her step as she walked towards the office.
One good deed done for the day, and it wasn’t even nine o’clock.
“Tex.” She called out as she was about to walk into the office building. He was looking stoic as he stepped out of the cab in his Italian fitted suit, briefcase in hand, staring up towards his office. She handed him a take-away coffee, and then took a sip from her own. “Please tell me that you transferred the case with the cop killer to someone else.”
“I have to defend her.”
“Why though? Why risk it all for her?” She walked beside him as they went through the revolving doors, into the foyer of their office building. Esther waved to the security guard at the desk, and then proceeded to the open elevator, where the doors closed behind them. “Sidney McCann was just doing his job when he arrested your father thirty years ago. It wasn’t personal. You don’t have to take revenge on him and his family by defending the girl.”
“This isn’t about revenge, Esther. This isn’t about the legacy that Sidney McCann left behind.” He pressed the button to the tenth floor. “This is about defending an innocent girl charged with murder. I saw it in her eyes—there was hope. That’s rare for people in her situation. Not only hope for this case, not only hope for this trial, but hope for the future.”
“Giving her hope isn’t a wise thing to do. Not with the case against her.”
“I didn’t give her that hope. She had that herself. She believed in our legal system. She believed, as an innocent girl, the system would work for her.”
“There are so many innocent people to save, Tex. You don’t have to save this one. You could walk into any prison and choose another person to save. This case is too personal for you. There’s too much riding on this. And she’s not just any killer, is she?” Esther pleaded for him to understand her point of view. “This girl killed one of the men that first arrested your father. He was a cop. The whole city will turn against you if you do this. Everyone will turn against you. The media, the public, the law fraternity. You will have nobody on your side in this case.”
“Nobody’s with me now.” He looked around the empty elevator, arms spread wide.
“What about me?”
His face softened. Esther was always there for him, always willing to be by his side no matter what, and her opinion didn’t even cross his mind. She was his support, that was all he knew, and without her, he would be a mess.
“Esther, that girl is innocent.” The elevator doors opened, leading them to the office. “I saw it in her eyes, and I can’t walk away from that.”
“You always think the young girls are innocent.” She said as she walked into their office. “And what if she’s not innocent? What if she did kill the cop?”
He sighed, placed his briefcase down, and leaned against her desk. The foyer to the office was large and spacious, with enough natural light flooding in the window to make it feel airy.
Hunter had spent the night unable to sleep, tossing and turning side to side, thinking about the girl’s life. If she hadn’t used that stolen credit card, then they never would’ve linked the murder to her. He understood that Nina was desperate, he understood that she was young, but the decision to use the credit card may have cost her freedom.
“Tex, you need to be prepared for the backlash that’s coming.” Esther set her bag down on the long table, threw her keys in the top drawer, and turned on her computer. “The media is going to have a field day once this hits the courts. We’re used to letters of hatred, even threats, but defending a cop killer is going to take it all to the next level. It’s going to be hell. We’re going to be attacked from all corners.”
“We can handle that. We’ve done it many times before.” He looked at the folder on the edge of her office desk. “Who do we have this morning?”
“The Steele case. Mary-Ann is coming at ten. That’s where your focus needs to be—on the fee paying clients. You have to try and think about this case.”
“I’ll try.”
Hunter waited at her desk for a moment, before moving towards his separate office.
“Tex.” Esther called out. He stopped. “You have to be prepared for the other possibility.”
“Which is?” He turned around to face her again.
“There’s so much evidence against Nina, there’s a chance that she’ll go to prison and you can’t help her at all. The system isn’t perfect. She’s had a hard life, and she’s not an angel. She’s—”
“People shouldn’t be convicted because of their past.”
“But people are. We’re all an accumulation of our past. Our life experiences are shaped by what we’ve experienced.”
“Don’t convict her because of the life she was thrown into. She’s a good girl. She’s smart, kind, and wants to do good in the world. All she needs is a chance in life.” Hunter stood tall. “And we don’t have to win this, but we do have to get her the best outcome.”
“That’s honorable. It really is. But you’re turning the whole city against you. Every cop in the city will hunt you down when this goes to trial. You won’t even be able to walk
down the street without getting harassed. You’re a name in this city, and you’ll be an even bigger name in the police department.”
“I’m ready for it.”
“I know you’re ready for the attacks, I know that you’re ready for the danger. But there’s something else that you have to be prepared for,” Esther stood and looked up to her boss. “You have to be prepared for the fact that you can’t save them all.”
Chapter 6
Tex Hunter’s law office seemed a mile away from the busy streets below, almost a tranquil oasis amongst the chaos of the country’s third largest city. That’s how he preferred it—an escape, a place to spend time calmly thinking, a retreat from the courts. The walls were soundproofed, the windows double-glazed, and only the hum of the central heating could be heard above the silence. When the occasional polar vortex blew through the Midwest, making his city colder than the Artic, that hum was reassuring, a beautiful white noise that let him know he wasn’t going to freeze to death.
Tex Hunter unclipped his cuffs, rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and opened the file on his desk, trying to keep his focus on the person sitting in front of him.
Having lived a quiet life, at seventy, Mary-Ann Steele was arrested and charged with arson for allegedly stealing a car, driving it two miles, and then torching it in a reserve near her home. She didn’t fit the typical type of defendant that Hunter came across—she seemed placid, serene, and even-tempered. He imagined her baking in the morning, cleaning in the afternoon, and telling her grandchildren to eat more in the evenings. She was wearing a long blue dress, a knitted cardigan, and a necklace that looked like it had been worn every day for the last fifty years. Her skin was dehydrated, her hair had become wispy, and her health had begun to deteriorate over the past months as the criminal charges were starting to take a toll.
But despite the stress on her face, despite the tension in her shoulders, there was life in her eyes, fire in her belly, and she had a determination to see this through, if only on principle alone.
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