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Talon Winter Legal Thrillers Box Set

Page 50

by Stephen Penner


  “Shit,” Talon hissed as the cop lights filled her rearview mirror. She knew she’d beat the ticket in court, but it was still annoying to get pulled over. And time-consuming. She had work to do. She slowed down and pulled over to the right at the next available opportunity. She rolled down her window and put her hands on the wheel at ten and two until the cop walked up and asked for her license, registration, and insurance. But her phone was on her lap, just in case.

  She didn’t actually know what she was being pulled over for. She wasn’t speeding. She hadn’t run any red lights or even rolled through a stop sign. She wasn’t even on her phone, which was actually a little surprising.

  The cop stepped up to her window. He was so close, she couldn’t really see his face, just a stocky torso and meaty hands.

  “License, insurance, and registration,” he instructed.

  Talon didn’t like the tone hidden in his voice. She slowly extracted her driver’s license from her wallet, then leaned over to her glove box to retrieve the other two papers.

  “Why did you stop me, officer?” She held the requested documents back for a moment. “I don’t think I was speeding.”

  “Give me the documents, please,” the officer repeated.

  “Are you going to tell me why I was pulled over?” Talon countered. “Please.”

  The officer’s meaty hand moved to the gun strapped to the side of his stocky torso. “Are you going to obstruct a law enforcement officer?”

  Obstructing a Law Enforcement Officer. RCW 9A.76.020. A gross misdemeanor, Talon knew. Arrestable.

  She considered her options, then handed her documents to the headless policeman.

  “Sorry, officer. Force of habit.” She tried to defuse the situation. “I’m an attorney.”

  “I know who you are, Ms. Winter,” the officer responded. He leaned down enough for Talon to see his face. It wasn’t the same officer from the gallery at the arraignment, but Talon guessed they were probably friends. “And I know you’re representing that cop killer.”

  Talon’s heart sank. She was alone and all the suppression motions in the world wouldn’t protect her from a large cop with a gun and a vendetta.

  “Is that why I got pulled over?” she managed to ask.

  The cop ignored her question. Instead, he said, “I sure hope you don’t have anything illegal in your car,” foreshadowing the predetermined outcome of the illegal search he was planning.

  “I hope you have a warrant,” Talon replied coldly.

  “I’m going to need you to step out of the car, Ms. Winter,” the cop pulled on the door handle, but it was locked.

  “Nope,” Talon answered. She held up her phone. Washington was a two-party consent state. Recording someone, even a cop, without their consent was a crime. But so was kidnapping, and there was an exception for when a person was threatening the recorder’s personal safety. It was time to show the cop who was really in charge.

  “I’m going to need you to give me my driver’s license back,” Talon instructed. “Holding onto it is a seizure under the Fourth Amendment of the United States Constitution. Violating my federal civil rights under color of state law—that means you, Mr. Local Cop—is actionable under Section 1983 of the U.S. Code. That means I can sue. And not just your department will be liable, but I can sue you individually, too, and you won’t have immunity for an illegal act. So, you have a choice. You can give me my license, or you can give me your house. And your car. And your pension.”

  The cop stood up again, his face obscured by the vehicle roof, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Do I need to go on?” Talon asked. “There’s criminal liability, too, for unlawful imprisonment, among other things. Believe it or not, I have friends who are prosecutors. And judges. And reporters.”

  She kept the camera rolling.

  The officer held out her license, registration, and insurance card. “Here’s your information back, ma’am. One of your brake lights was flickering. Be sure to check that out when you get the chance. Drive safe.”

  Talon snatched her documents back. “Fuck you too.”

  CHAPTER 15

  It took a while for the adrenaline and anger to dissipate out of Talon’s bloodstream. The anger took longer. The adrenaline was gone by the time she got back to her desk, but the anger lingered. But she could use anger as fuel for Luke’s case—and her anger tank was full.

  It was almost six and she was still plowing through the police reports, reading, annotating, cataloging, indexing. She knew she needed to understand every last fact, and know them better than Cecilia, if she was going to find the one, narrow path out of the dark, terrible, life-in-prison woods Luke was trapped in. She just needed to work. And think. And focus.

  “Hey, there!” Curt’s bright face darkened her doorway. “Whatcha doing here so late?”

  Talon closed her eyes and took in a long, deep, loud breath. She really didn’t want to deal with Curt Fairchild just then. She didn’t want to deal with anyone just then. But especially not Curt.

  “I’m working,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Are you close to wrapping up?” Curt asked. “I was thinking about trying that new noodle place down on Pacific.”

  “No,” Talon snapped. “I’m not close to wrapping up. And I’m not interested in noodles down on Pacific. I have a lot to do.”

  “Oh,” Curt said. Then, after a moment, “Can I help?”

  “No, Curt,” Talon barked. She caught herself and lowered her voice again. “No, you can’t help. There is nothing you can do which would be helpful.”

  “You seem stressed,” Curt observed. “Tough day?”

  “Yeah, Curt. Tough day.”

  “What happened?”

  “Fine!” She shoved the file away from her and threw her hands up. “You wanna know what happened today? You wanna know what happened to me today? I got pulled over by a shit-stain cop, and if it hadn’t been for me not trusting cops and having my cell phone ready to record his shit-stain ass, I would have been arrested for planted drugs, obstruction, and God knows what else. I’m sure I would have been roughed up for resisting arrest too. That is, if the cop decided to even drive me to jail instead of just putting me in his patrol car and driving me to the base of Mount Rainier to murder me and leave me in a shallow grave for the coyotes to eat before anybody even knew I was missing. That’s what happened today, Curt. Okay? That’s what happened.”

  Curt didn’t say anything for several seconds. Then he stepped over and put a hand on Talon’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  She slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me. And don’t feel sorry for me. I’m not scared, I’m just angry.”

  “I never said you were scared,” Curt pointed out.

  Talon’s hands were balled into fists and shaking, despite her best efforts to keep them steady. “I’m just angry. And, no, I’m not going to report it to the cops. So, don’t even suggest that.”

  “Of course not,” Curt responded. “No, I get that.”

  He hesitated. “Look, it’s getting late. Maybe you shouldn’t stay here alone all night.”

  Talon looked up at him. “Are you seriously hitting on me? Right now?”

  “Is there a better time?” Curt joked. “But no. I’m not hitting on you. I just think this is starting to get a little crazy and maybe having a witness around might discourage anything else like that from happening again.”

  Talon lowered her head into her hands, then ran her fingers through her hair. Angry didn’t have to mean stupid. “Yeah, okay. You’re probably right.”

  “Do you have a lot left to do?” Curt asked. “I can order us some food.”

  Talon sighed. “Yeah, I have a lot left to do. I guess I don’t have to get it done tonight, but I want to. These fuckers. They want to put Luke away for the rest of his life. I can’t let them do it. I just can’t.”

  Curt took out his phone. “Thai?”

  Talon shook her head. “Pizza. Everything. Extra veggies.”


  “Gross,” Curt replied.

  When Talon cocked her head at him, he added, “And exactly what you’re going to get. Because that’s what you want.” He turned away to make the call, but Talon heard him mutter, “And I can get some breadsticks.”

  Once the pizza was ordered, Curt sat down again across from Talon. “So, what are you working on specifically? I’m supposed to be part of the team, remember? Let me help. Even if I’m not going to get paid.”

  Talon smiled. “You might get paid. Do you take payment plans?”

  “Not in veggie pizzas, I can tell you that,” he joked.

  “Everything pizzas,” Talon corrected. “With extra veggies.”

  “Right,” Curt pointed at her. “That. And breadsticks.” Then he pointed at the papers pushed around her desk. “What are you working on right now?”

  “Like four different things,” Talon explained with a sigh. She was glad dinner was on its way. She was also glad to have someone to talk to. It might help her sort out all the various threads in the case. It was starting to blur together, despite her anger fuel. Or maybe because of it.

  “I just got the ballistics reports,” she pointed to a stapled report with the state crime lab seal at the top. “So, I need to read that. I need to compare the primary officer’s written report with the crime scene photos because, of course, there’s no video. The owner of the business had all of his cameras pointed away from the main floor and straight down at the teller stations, because their biggest losses come from employee theft. You see Miguel walk up and talk to one of the tellers, but then the teller backs away off screen and so does Miguel. The other cameras show the rest of the employees bailing away from their own stations about a minute later, but none of the cameras caught the shootout.”

  “Maybe that’s good,” Curt suggested. “The State won’t be able to show the jury the video of what actually happened. Maybe that’s reasonable doubt.”

  “No, it’s bad.” Talon shook her head. “It means the cop who survived gets to tell the jury whatever the hell he wants, and no one can contradict his version of events.”

  “Well, maybe he’ll tell the truth,” Curt tried to joke.

  “Don’t even try to defend cops in this room tonight,” Talon warned. “Not tonight. And not the cop who shot Luke’s friend dead. There were three people in that check-mart when the shots were fired: Miguel, the cop Miguel shot, and the cop who shot Miguel. Everyone else bailed out the back when the cops kicked in the doors. That cop gets to say whatever the hell he wants, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

  Talon gestured vaguely at the papers strewn across her desk. “All of this interconnects somehow, in ways I can’t even begin to guess at, and I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Start at the beginning,” Curt suggested, flashing a grin.

  Talon rolled her eyes. She was in no mood. “Thanks. Since you said that, I’m going to do the exact opposite.”

  She grabbed the ballistics report that had just arrived that day and started reading. “Now, shut up.”

  Curt opened his mouth to protest.

  Talon raised a hand at him, but not her eyes. “Shut. Up.”

  He complied, but Talon could still see him shifting his weight in his chair. Finally, he pulled out his phone again and distracted himself. That let Talon relax enough to actually process what she was reading.

  She stopped and read it again.

  Then a third time.

  “Holy shit,” Talon said. She finally looked up at Curt.

  “What?” he asked, setting his phone down.

  She handed him the pages she was examining. “Look at the ballistics report.”

  “What about it?” he asked.

  “The bullets match,” Talon explained. “All of the bullets match.”

  “Okay.” Curt shrugged. “That seems kind of expected, right? We didn’t think there was another shooter on the grassy knoll or anything, right?”

  “No, all of the bullets match,” Talon repeated. “All of them. The bullets from Miguel’s autopsy and the bullets from the dead cop’s autopsy, they all match. They’re all from the same gun.”

  Curt’s eyes widened. “It wasn’t a shootout.”

  “No,” Talon knew. “It was a slaughter.”

  CHAPTER 16

  “You need to tell the prosecutor,” Curt said. “This is huge.”

  But Talon laughed at his suggestion. “You’re right. It is huge. And that’s why I don’t tell the prosecutor. Not yet anyway. She’ll see it when she looks at the ballistics report herself. Then she’ll shit her pants wondering if I saw it too.”

  “She’s going to know you saw it,” Curt said.

  Talon grinned. “She going to know I saw it. And she’s going to know I know she knows I saw it. But she’s not going to know why I didn’t tell her I saw it.”

  “And why aren’t you going to tell her?” Curt asked.

  Talon stood up and shook her head. She put a hand on Curt’s face and clicked her tongue. “Because I’m playing four-dimensional chess and she’s playing tic-tac-toe.”

  Curt thought for a moment. “What am I playing?”

  Talon grinned again and gave Curt’s face a light slap. “You’re not playing at all, Curt. You’re the towel boy. But that’s okay. The game needs towel boys too.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Chess was all about setting up the board, moving the pieces into position so the outcome was predetermined before the other side even knew what was happening. It was even more so with four-dimensional lawyer chess.

  Talon had some setting up to do.

  The first was easy. A quick email to Officer Todd Dickerson:

  Officer Dickerson,

  I represent Luke Zlotnik in his pending criminal matter. I am writing to request an interview of you regarding the incident which led to his arrest and current charges. Please reply with your availability. I expect the interview to last approximately 4-6 hours.

  Sincerely,

  Talon Winter

  Attorney at Law

  Next, Talon drafted the motion and order for the formal deposition of Officer Dickerson when he refused her request for an interview. If he even replied at all.

  Of course, when she finally got to ask him questions, she wouldn’t want to walk in empty-handed, so next was a field trip to serve a subpoena for Officer Dickerson’s personnel file:

  SUBPOENA DUCES TECUM

  To: Records Custodian, Tacoma Police Department

  You are hereby commanded to appear at the office of the undersigned attorney at the date and time below indicated. You are further commanded to bring with you the following documents: the complete personnel file of Police Officer Todd Dickerson, including but not limited to: records relating to any disciplinary actions and any internal affairs investigations.

  Failure to comply with this subpoena may be considered contempt of court.

  Herein fail not at your peril.

  Talon smiled one more time at that last line before sliding the subpoena under the bulletproof glass to the receptionist at the Tacoma P.D. headquarters, also on 38th Street, just a few blocks north of where one of their own killed two people with his department issued firearm.

  She knew the department’s legal advisor would drag his feet and eventually ask a judge to quash the subpoena. But there were other ways to obtain information from government agencies, ways that had very short time limits:

  PUBLIC RECORDS REQUEST

  Pursuant to the Washington Public Records Act (RCW 42.56), the undersigned Requestor does hereby request the following information:

  (1) Any and all information regarding the incident which occurred at Check-Now U.S.A. business located at 2610 South 38th Street, Tacoma, Washington, 98409, including but not limited to: police reports, forensic reports, witness statements, surveillance audio or video recordings, police audio or video recordings.

  Talon took a nice drive through the city, delivering individually addresse
d copies of the same request to the public records officers for the Tacoma Police Department, Tacoma Fire Department, Pierce County Medical Examiner, Washington State Patrol Crime Laboratory, and of course, the Pierce County Prosecutor’s Office. The prosecutor’s office was already supposed to give her everything under the court rules, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t held something back, Cecilia’s reaffirmation of transparency notwithstanding.

  Hence, Talon’s last written demand for information, dropped directly into that prosecution ‘IN’ box on the ninth floor of the courthouse:

  SUPPLEMENTAL DEMAND FOR DISCOVERY

  Pursuant to Criminal Rule 4.7, the defendant in the above-captioned case hereby demands the following discovery:

  the complete personnel file of Police Officer Todd Dickerson, including but not limited to: records relating to any disciplinary actions and internal affairs investigations.

  If the demanded material is in the possession of the prosecutor’s office, this material must be provided to the defense, pursuant to CrR 4.7(a). If the demanded material is in the possession of another government agency (to wit: the Tacoma Police Department), then the prosecutor must attempt to cause the material to be provided to the defense, pursuant to CrR 4.7(d).

  Talon exited the prosecutor’s office lobby and pressed the down arrow for the elevator. It had been a full day, and it was only 4:00. She decided to head back to the office to see if Officer Dickerson had left a love e-note in her email. Probably not, but the thought of a trigger-happy cop shooting off a screed for daring to ask for an interview made her smile. Sometimes you have to poke the bear before you can take him down.

  * * *

  There was no email from Dickerson, of course, but Talon decided she’d earned herself a reward anyway. It was a little late for coffee, but there might be some herbal tea somewhere in the break room. Something that tasted like victory and the tears of her enemies.

 

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