by Marti Green
After ten minutes, Melton was brought into the room, dressed in the blue pants worn by every inmate, and the orange T-shirt reserved for those on death row. His pitch-black hair, cut short, contrasted sharply with his pale skin. Dani thought others might be drawn first to his deep-blue eyes, but what struck her immediately were his hands. Their smoothness bespoke someone who’d never engaged in manual labor. No washing dishes or vacuuming floors or mowing lawns. Winston had grown up in a home where a hired person performed those chores. Even now, his nails, in contrast to her own chewed tips, were perfectly rounded. Unlike other prisoners, death-row inmates don’t work in the prison. Instead, they are confined to their cells at all times, let out only for a shower every other day, two hours twice a week in the exercise yard, and for visitors or medical reasons. Dani suspected he would have gladly traded the isolation of death row for calluses on his hands from jailhouse work.
He sat down in the chair opposite Dani and smiled warmly. “Thanks for coming. I know you didn’t want to take my case, and I really appreciate that you did.”
Dani was taken aback by his gratitude. The young man sitting opposite her didn’t seem like the arrogant rich kid described by Jack Donahue, his trial lawyer. “You’re not what I expected.”
Winston chuckled. “Oh, you probably thought I’d be like my grandmother. I know she can be overbearing at times, but really, she’s just worried about me.” His face turned somber. “And, I am, too. I’m terrified.”
“It wasn’t just your grandmother. Another picture was painted of you at your trial.”
“I was a different person then. Young. Cocky. Thought everything was due me. I took my privileged life for granted.” He dropped his eyes and looked downward as his cheeks slowly reddened. “Seven years on death row humbles even the most arrogant—and I certainly was before this happened.” He lifted his head and looked directly at Dani. “Prison’s changed me. Opened my eyes. Now, I know how lucky I was. Most of the guys here, they’ve had miserable lives. Abusive parents. Uncaring parents. Addicted parents. It’s no wonder they ended up here. Crime was an escape for them.”
Dani didn’t know whether Winston was guilty or innocent, but her impression of him was far different than she’d anticipated. She looked him over. Seven years in prison hadn’t dimmed his good looks or added pounds to his waist. She was certain he’d had his pick of girls before his incarceration. Barring a psychological disorder—and there’d been no evidence of one before his arrest—he’d have no reason to rape someone, much less murder her to cover up his crime.
“Winston—”
“Please, call me Win.”
“Okay, Win. For us to help you, you need to be completely honest with us.”
He nodded. “What do you want to know?” His fear now shone through his blinking eyes and trembling lips.
“Let’s start with Carly Sobol. What was your relationship with her?”
“We’d go out together when I was down in Palm Beach. She was a sweet kid, but that was the problem. She was a kid—less mature than her age and just too young for me. College was an excuse to break it off.”
“Had you had sexual relations with her?”
“Sure, before we broke up.”
“How did she take the breakup?”
“Hard. She kept begging me to change my mind. Called me a few times at school, but I’d moved on. I had another girlfriend. Sienna.” His eyes misted up, and as he continued to speak, his voice was choked. “I thought she could have been the one. She was really special. Smart. Beautiful. Genuine. She didn’t come from money, not like most of the kids I’d hung out with before. Princeton had given her a full scholarship.”
“Are you still in touch with her?”
Win shook his head. “At first, she wrote me every week. Never stopped believing in my innocence. But when the first appeals were lost, I told her to stop. I didn’t want her to feel tied to someone with no future.”
“Let’s back up. You went to a private high school. How did you meet Carly?”
“You know how it is. The kids from the rich families hung out together. She was the cousin of someone in our group. Her family didn’t have money, but she was cute, so we let her tag along with us when we were down there. Eventually, she and I sort of paired off.”
No, Dani didn’t know how it was. She didn’t know what it was like to have multiple homes. She didn’t know what it was like to spend her school breaks in a winter playground. She didn’t know what it was like to feel entitled every day of her life. And for all that, she was grateful. Grateful for parents who’d shown her that hard work was rewarding. Grateful for parents who’d demonstrated through their love for her and each other the importance of family.
“Tell me about that night.”
Winston lifted up his cuffed hands, pressed them against his forehead, and shut his eyes. After a few moments, he brought his hands back down to his lap. “I’d been back in Palm Beach on semester break for four or five days. I hadn’t seen Carly, or spoken to her, and that was fine with me. My folks and I were heading out to Vail for some skiing and wanted to soak up some sun first. Carly went to Palm Beach High. I knew the school’s holiday ball was that night and decided to drop by.”
“So you went there to see Carly?”
“Not just Carly. I knew other kids at the high school.”
“But you wanted to see Carly. Why?”
“I’d been feeling kind of bad about the way I’d treated her. You know, not taking her calls, being brusque with her when I did. I wanted to smooth things over, encourage her to move on.”
“What happened when you got to the dance?”
“I didn’t see her at first, but then I spotted her dancing with some guy, all cozying up to him.”
“Did that make you jealous?”
“No. I wasn’t jealous. I liked Carly. I wanted her to be happy. I was going to leave, but before I did, she glanced up and saw me, then waved. I couldn’t walk away without saying hi. When the dance ended, I saw her whisper something in her date’s ear. Then, after he walked away, she came over to me.”
Dani watched Winston as he spoke. His lips were drawn tightly together, and his eyes were moist. Was he telling the truth? Dani wondered. She’d always prided herself on her ability to judge the prospective client, but she hadn’t made up her mind yet.
“Go on.”
“She gave me a hug, then asked me to go outside with her. We left the gym, and she led me down a path behind the school, into the woods. We could still hear the music, but it was like they were playing just for us. I asked her about the guy she was with, and she said he was nobody, just a local kid with a crush on her. When we got to a clearing, she turned to me and told me she still loved me.”
“What happened then?”
“She kissed me.”
“Did you kiss her back?”
Winston nodded, then quickly said, “But that’s all. I told her I cared about her, but it was over between us. She needed to move on. She became furious. Began screaming curses at me, then pulled my hair. I suppose that’s how the police found a strand of it near her. I just walked away and left her there.” He dropped his head to his chest, his shoulders slumped, and squeezed his hands tightly. After a few moments, he said, “I never should have left. If only I’d walked her back to the school, it wouldn’t have happened. She’d still be alive.”
Dani wanted to believe him. He was much more personable than she’d expected, and she responded to that. But did that mean he was innocent? His story seemed credible, but he could be an accomplished actor. She’d always gone by her gut feelings, but now, buried in the back of her mind, was Whiting’s suggestion that Sanders’s confession had been bought. And so she left the prison with lingering doubts about her client’s innocence.
CHAPTER
11
On the drive back to the airport, Dani told To
mmy and Melanie of her reservations.
“I’m surprised,” Tommy said. “You’re usually a marshmallow when it comes to these guys.”
Dani wanted to argue with Tommy, but he was right. She was a glass-half-full kind of person. When she got letters from inmates desperate to have someone believe in their innocence, she wanted to be that person—at least, when she decided to take a case. When she sat before them and looked into their pleading eyes, she wanted to assure them she would secure their freedom. Most times she did. After all, HIPP was very selective about the cases it agreed to handle. So many inmates had been convicted before DNA evidence was available. In many cases, HIPP found that evidence kits stored away still contained traces of semen, hair, or some other item found at the crime scene that identified the perpetrator. And when tested against HIPP’s clients, invariably, it exonerated them.
They tried to take only cases that turned on DNA evidence. A simple test, a quick motion, and freedom for their client. Now and then, though, a letter came across one of their desks that, despite the lack of DNA evidence, they couldn’t turn down. And Dani was usually the one who took on those cases. When that happened, sometimes she succeeded in overturning a conviction. Sometimes she didn’t. And when she didn’t, when she failed to free someone she believed to be innocent, she felt as devastated as the inmate’s loved ones.
They arrived at the airport in plenty of time for their flight, so they ducked into an airport restaurant for a bite to eat. Dani had given up on her perpetual diet and resigned herself to the realization that she couldn’t get back her shape as a twenty-year-old. Still, when she saw a young woman pass by with a flat stomach and tiny waist, a twinge of regret would fall over her. She didn’t know why. Life had been good to her. Doug was a wonderful husband, and Jonah, despite his disability, or maybe because of it, was an affectionate and loving son. Most thirteen-year-olds, with their hormones raging, were mortified by their parents. Not Jonah, who, because of his mild retardation, was still childlike in many ways. Still, there were times when she missed the carefree days of her youth, when everything was possible and nothing was unjust. And when she had a twenty-two-inch waist.
They took their seats in the restaurant, and when the waitress came over, Dani ordered a hamburger and french fries. Then, in a stab of conscientiousness, asked for a Diet Coke.
After the waitress left, Dani said, “We should follow up on Whiting’s speculation.”
“Which one is that?” Melanie asked.
“That somehow one of the Meltons paid Sanders to confess. It would be disastrous if the state attorney found a payoff, and HIPP missed it.”
“You’re right,” Tommy said. “I mean, the kid just reeks of money. I’m sure he’s paid off the guards to watch over him.”
“Probably some inmates, too,” Melanie said.
“So, you’ll check it out?”
Tommy nodded, then pulled out a small notebook and made a notation.
“How come you don’t use your cell phone?” Melanie asked.
“Huh?”
“Your cell phone—doesn’t it have a notes app?”
Tommy laughed. “Don’t you know you’re talking to a dinosaur? These fancy gadgets just get me messed up. Paper and pen—it’s always worked fine for me.”
They finished their meal, then meandered over to the gate. With still an hour’s wait for their flight, Dani took out her phone and called home. When Doug got on the phone, she said, “Miss me?”
“Of course. You on your way back?”
“Yep. I should be home by ten.”
“How’d it go?”
“He may actually be innocent.”
“Good. Now you don’t have to worry about representing someone you thought was guilty.”
“Or, he may be guilty.”
“You’re usually good at forming a judgment. What gives?”
“Everything he said sounded right. And I like him more than I expected.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because of the way the case came to me. But for the first time, my gut instincts seem to have deserted me.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
Dani sighed. “I hope so.”
When Dani walked into her house at ten minutes after ten, Doug met her at the door with a phone in his hand. He gave it to her and whispered, “It’s Tommy.”
She grabbed the phone. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“It’s Tommy Jr. He’s in trouble.”
“What happened?”
“He’s a stupid kid, that’s what happened.”
“What did he do?”
“He was riding with a friend, coming back to his dorm from a party. Got pulled over. The cops didn’t like the way they looked and searched the car. Found a bag of weed. Just over two ounces. Both of them were arrested.”
“Oh, God, Tommy, I’m sorry. How can I help?”
“I’m driving up there tomorrow. Any advice for me?”
“Try to talk to the assistant DA assigned to the case before it’s called. See if you can get it knocked down.”
“I’m going to kill that kid.”
“Well, before you do, just remember the things you did at that age.”
“Yeah, but I had the good sense not to get caught.”
Dani had worried about Jonah for so many years that she often forgot worrying was part of parenthood for everyone. Jonah’s issues were no doubt different from what other parents faced, but each mother and father dealt with their son’s or daughter’s problems along the way. It’s a wonder any parent survives raising a child, she thought.
The next morning, Dani prepared a notice of the deposition of Earl Sanders and faxed it to Ed Whiting. Ten minutes later, he called her. After perfunctory greetings, he said, “I won’t be attending your deposition.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t need to travel to Georgia to hear some lies.”
“Well, if you think he’s lying, come there and ask your own questions.”
“Nope. It’d just be a waste of my time.”
“Then send a staff member,” Dani countered, trying to keep her anger in check.
“They have better things to do as well.”
Dani hung up, furious, then got to work preparing her questions for the deposition. She was almost finished when Tommy called in from the road.
“How’d it go?” Dani asked him.
“I bonded with the DA over my FBI background. His father had worked there years ago. He knocked it down to a violation, and Tommy Jr. paid a fine.”
“Great.”
“Yeah. You know, you think your worries over your kids would get less as they grow older. Instead, little worries morph into bigger ones.”
“I know what you mean.”
As Dani hung up, it hit her that, just as Tommy rushed upstate to protect his son, so would most parents. Still, there was a line few parents would cross. Given what she’d seen of Amelia Melton, Dani pegged her as a woman who didn’t think moral lines applied to her. If buying a confession from a doomed man would save her grandson from a lethal needle, Dani had no doubt she would do it. Tommy needed to look hard to see if she had.
CHAPTER
12
Dani and Melanie were back at GDCP, this time with both a court reporter and videographer ready to record Earl Sanders’s deposition. When Sanders was brought into the interview room, he looked like he was disappearing inside his prison clothes. The once-tight garb now hung loosely on him, and his previous pale pallor had turned gray.
“Are you all right?” Dani asked him once he was seated.
He shook his head slowly. His hands, still cuffed, shook. “I got only thirteen more days.”
“Yes, I know.”
“I haven’t been able to eat nothing. I know
I have it coming to me. I deserve to die. I didn’t think it would scare me so much, though.”
Dani had sat with many inmates who had to face the same fear. Some pretended to be stoic, some were filled with rage, some felt overwhelmed with regret. Some mourned the families they were leaving behind, while others cut themselves off from everyone to avoid facing their grief. Yet, in each case where she sat with a client whose appeal she’d lost, it was an innocent man preparing for his death. It had been agonizing for her to witness the execution of someone she’d worked with, someone she believed was wrongly convicted yet still held responsible. It was different with Sanders. Although she loathed the death penalty, abhorred the irrevocability of it, she felt no sympathy for the frightened man sitting opposite her. He was a monster, and although she still didn’t wish his death, she would shed no tears for him.
“Do you understand what we’re going to do today?” she asked.
Sanders nodded.
“I need you to answer so the court reporter can record what you say.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“I’m going to question you about the murders you say you committed. I want you to answer truthfully, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Dani turned to the court reporter. “I want to ask him some questions before we begin, so don’t record this now.”
The court reporter took her hands off the stenotype machine and sat back in her seat.
“Earl, did anyone give you money, or anything of value, to say you killed Carly Sobol?”
Sanders narrowed his eyes and glared at Dani. “Now, what good will money do me when I’m dead?”
“Please, just answer yes or no.”
“No. Not a damn cent.”
“Did anyone give your family, or a friend, money or something of value if you said you killed Carly?”
“Nobody cares about me. Why should I care about them? No. No money to anyone.”
She turned back to the court reporter. “Okay. Let’s get started now.”
Tommy was stumped. He’d been certain Sanders had been paid to take the fall for Melton. He knew Melton’s type. A kid who’d grown up rich and thought he could buy his way out of anything. But so far, he’d turned up nothing. He’d checked jail records, and no Melton had paid a visit to Sanders. Not even a lawyer for the Meltons. The only lawyer who’d visited him was his own, and he hadn’t paid a visit until last month, when Sanders confessed to Carly Sobol’s murder. He dug further, thinking maybe a Melton, or a lawyer for Melton, had contacted Sanders’s attorney, Patrick Dowling, and pitched the bribe to him. Through his contacts, Tommy found someone who could search phone records for Dowling during the months leading up to Sanders’s confession. Nothing again.
