Dani Hayward, P.I.: The Richard Clark Case

by Ellie Smith

  Chapter 5

  It was just after two o'clock the next afternoon when Phillip Blakely called Manuel Ramirez, the first witness for the defense, to the stand. A few minutes earlier, the blonde haired man he'd seen exit the front passenger side of the black sedan the first night Dani had arrived had passed him a message then retreated to the back of the courtroom and sat down beside a shapely redhead. The note had been from Dani Hayward and had told him to call the delivery boy first and she would be there as quickly as possible.

  "Mr. Ramirez," he began his questioning. "Where are you employed?"

  "I work at Pinecrest Country Club."

  "What do you do there?"

  "I'm a caddy and part-time delivery boy for the pro shop."

  "Mr. Ramirez," Phil went on. "I asked you to bring certain records with you to court today. Do you have those records?"

  "Yes," the man who was barely past eighteen said. He pulled several folded sheets from his jacket pocket and handed them over.

  Phil took the sheets and glanced at them. "Did you know the deceased?"

  Dark, innocent eyes widened. "I don't know what that word means," he admitted.

  The attorney smiled. "Let me re-word my question. Did you know Harold Thornton?"

  "Yes," Manuel Ramirez said and nodded. "The professor was a member of the club. He was at the club a lot."

  "Did you see him on the day he died?"

  The young man looked confused. "Is that the day I delivered the clubs to his house?"

  "Yes."

  "Yes, I saw him. He came to the club that morning."

  "Mr. Ramirez," the judge interjected and met the lad's frightened gaze. The black robed man smiled congenially. "Answer only the questions that are asked of you. Do not offer any other information."

  "Yes your honor," the lad replied solemnly then turned back to the attorney.

  "Now," Phil continued. "You said you saw Professor Thornton that day?"

  "Yes," the witness said bluntly, now stiff due to the judge's warning.

  "Where did you see him?"

  "At the country club."

  "Precisely where at the club did you see him?"

  "When I first saw him he was just getting out of his car in the parking lot," the witness replied, showing a little more relaxed demeanor.

  "Do you recall the time when you saw him?"

  His nod was instant. "It was a few minutes before nine o'clock."

  "How can you be sure of the time?"

  "Because I was just coming to work."

  "And I presume you have to be to work at nine?"

  "Yes."

  Blakely strolled to his table. He flipped open a manila folder, laid the papers he had requested the young caddy to bring on the open flap then studied the sheet as he continued. "Did you see him again?"

  "Yes."

  "When and where?"

  "Your honor," Paul Rivera said as he got to his feet. "I have been very patient with counsel but I must object."

  "This does seem to be going a little far afield Mr. Blakely," the judge agreed.

  Phil Blakely turned to the judge. "I will tie everything together if the court could be patient a few minutes longer."

  "Very well," the judge said bluntly. "See that you do."

  Actually, Phil Blakely had no idea where this cross-examination was heading. But Dani wasn't here yet and that mean stall as long as possible. The defense attorney turned back to the witness. "When and where did you see Professor Thornton again?"

  "I saw him in the bar two hours later, at eleven."

  "And that was the last time you saw him?"

  "No, I saw him again after that."

  "When was that?"

  "Just after twelve, when the pro shop opened."

  "So you saw him in the pro shop?"

  "Yes."

  "What was he doing?"

  “He was looking at golf clubs."

  Phil went back to the defense table then turned and leaned against it. He thought he was beginning to see where Dani Hayward wanted him to go with this witness. Actually, Manuel Ramirez was making it quite easy. "Was Professor Thornton alone?"

  Manuel Ramirez frowned. "Which time?"

  That surprised him. "Any of the times?"

  "Yes. He was alone when I saw him in the parking lot."

  "But he wasn't alone the other two times?"

  "No."

  "Did you recognize the person who was with him?"

  "I don't know her but I've seen her before."

  Her? Phillip Blakely recalled the unfamiliar young woman the blonde man had come into the courtroom with and wondered if there might be a connection. He turned and, while he busied himself with shuffling the papers in the folder, the barrister shot a furtive glance at the blonde man to see him nod slightly. Was that meant as a signal? Phil knew he had to take the chance. "Mr. Ramirez," he turned back to the man. "Would you recognize the woman if you saw her again?"

  "Oh yes," the lad said with a grin. "She was muy bonita."

  "Muy bonita?"

  "Yes," Ramirez replied. "A very pretty woman."

  "Would you take a look around and tell me if she is in the courtroom today."

  "Yes she is," Ramirez said without more than a moment's glance at the spectators.

  "Would you point her out please?" the attorney requested.

  "She's sitting back by the door." He pointed toward the woman beside the blonde man. "That's her. With the red hair."

  Murmurs rose and fell as the woman gasped then hid her face behind her hands as everyone in the courtroom looked at her.

  How had Dani known? And where had she found the redhead? "Alright Mr. Ramirez. Let's talk about the pro shop again." He returned to the table, picked up the papers Ramirez had brought with him and started back across the floor toward the witness stand. "You brought in a copy of the receipt Harold Thornton signed that day he bought the clubs."

  "Yes. You asked me to."

  "Right," Phil agreed. He handed the lad the papers he had passed over earlier. "Please read the receipt for the court."

  "It says that Harold Thornton bought one set of graphite golf clubs for $1649 and he signed it on the bottom."

  "Does it say anything else?"

  The lad nodded. "It says across the bottom that they were to be delivered to his house after seven o'clock that evening."

  "It specifies the time?"

  "Yes, right here," Ramirez said and pointed to the handwriting. "See?"

  The attorney smiled. "Yes I see," he said and glanced at the sheet the land was holding up. "Did you deliver the clubs?"

  "Yes."

  Phil passed over the second sheet the lad had brought. "Would you please read the signature on the receiving slip."

  "Harold Thornton." Ramirez frowned curiously then looked up at the barrister and blinked innocently.

  There was more than question in the delivery boy's eyes. "Is something wrong Mr. Ramirez?"

  "Sort of," the witness replied and frowned down at the paper he was holding again. "This says that Harold Thornton signed for the clubs. But he didn't."

  Phillip Blakely should have recalled the over-abundance of twists and turns that Dani Hayward uncovered in the Moran case six years ago. This case was quickly following the same path. "What do you mean he didn't sign for the clubs?"

  "He didn't sign for them," Ramirez scowled. "I never saw Mr. Thornton that evening."

  "If he didn't sign for them, who did?" Phil was sure it was a question on everyone's lips.

  Manuel Ramirez' gaze bounced past the barrister for barely a second before he responded. "It was Mrs. Thornton who signed for them, not her husband."

  Murmurs rose instantly and it took the judge's banging gavel to silence the spectators. Phil spun and met the silver-haired woman's gaze before turning back to his witness. "Are you sure about that Mr. Ramirez?"

  "Very sure," the lad replied stoutly.

  Dani had obviously learned of the discrepancy and had ordered him to have t
he young delivery boy bring in the papers. Phil glanced at Mrs. Thornton to see her absorbed in deep conversation with the District Attorney. Another glance at the spectators to see if Dani was there before he turned back to his witness to ask, "What time were the clubs delivered Mr. Ramirez?"

  "Five minutes after six."

  Phil frowned down at the sheet he was holding. "Didn't the purchase receipt instruct you not to deliver the clubs until after seven?"

  "Yes."

  Had Mrs. Thornton gotten angry because her husband had bought new clubs and killed him in a fit of anger? Phil frowned inwardly. That didn't make any sense. Besides, the prosecution had already proven that Felicia Thornton was on her way to Chicago when her husband was murdered. Of course, he had also just proved that she'd lied under oath too. He turned his attention back to Manuel Ramirez. "Why did you deliver the clubs early when Mr. Thornton had expressly instructed you not to deliver them until after seven?"

  "I explained that to Mrs. Thornton when I delivered them," the witness informed. "Like I told her, it was my last delivery and I had to have the truck back to the club before six-thirty. I couldn't wait around until seven or I would have been in trouble with my boss."

  "Did Mrs. Thornton seem angry for the mistake?"

  The District Attorney was on his feet. "Objection. Calls for a conclusion by the witness."

  "Overruled," the judge snipped. "I think this witness is perfectly capable of judging if someone seemed angry Mr. Rivera. Answer the question Mr. Ramirez."

  “Yes your honor.” The lad turned back to the suited man in front of him. "I don't think she was angry."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I think she was surprised to see me and the clubs."

  "Surprised? Why do you say that?"

  "She sort of looked at me real funny at first," Ramirez informed. "Then she stared down at the clubs, then sighed, kind of disgusted like, then signed for them and I left." He shrugged slim shoulders. "I got the impression her husband didn't tell her he'd bought the clubs."

  "Objection," the man at the prosecutor's table snapped.

  "Sustained," the judge stated. "The witnesses last remark will be stricken from the record."

  Phil had been expecting that. He turned to the defense table, was shuffling through the papers in the open folder when he saw a movement in the back of the courtroom and glanced up to see the blonde-haired man and the redhead slip out the door. He wondered if they were going to meet Dani. "Thank you Mr. Ramirez," Phil smiled at the lad. "That's all I have for this witness your honor."

  "Mr. Rivera?" the judge prompted.

  The district attorney rose, looked down at his notepad, then dropped to his chair. "No questions."

  Phillip Blakely chuckled to himself. It was a major milestone if Rivera did not cross-examine witnesses. And, considering how this case had been going, he scored it a point for his side.

  "Call your next witness Mr. Blakely."

  Phil got to his feet, glanced at the sheet the blonde man had passed over when he had arrived more than an hour ago and read the only other name on it. "The defense calls Roger Ortega." He watched a tall, gaunt man stroll toward the front of the courtroom. Roger Ortega was probably in his early forties and, even though his dark hair was still thick, it was showing signs of thinning in the crown. Phil realized that he had no idea where he was supposed to go with this witness. His questions would be few unless Professor Ortega gave him some direction. He checked the back of the courtroom again. He had to find a way of stalling until Dani showed up. He busied himself with his papers as he waited for the witness to be sworn in. "Mr. Ortega, what is you occupation?"

  "I am a chemistry professor at Harrison College."

  The defense attorney sauntered toward the witness stand, taking his time getting there. "How long have you been a faculty member at the college?"

  "Almost seven years."

  "Did you know the deceased?"

  "Yes, I knew him."

  "Were you friends?"

  Ortega's gaze bounced to Richard Clark and back. "All of the faculty members at Harrison are friends Mr. Blakely. It’s a very small college."

  "Then you were also associated with the defendant?"

  "Yes."

  "Would you consider yourself better friends with one man over the other?"

  "I'd say I was better friends with Rich Clark than I was with Thornton."

  "Why is that?"

  The witness shrugged. "I guess because he was closer to my own age."

  Phillip Blakely looked up to see the blonde man and the redhead re-enter the courtroom with Dani at their heels. The brunette came forward and stopped at the railing. "Your honor," Phil turned to the judge abruptly. "May I have a moment?"

  "Yes, but make it a brief one."

  Phil hurried to the railing where Dani was standing.

  "Here's what you'll need," the brunette said in a low voice and handed him a notebook. "After you get done with the other witnesses call me to the stand."

  Why did he get the impression she already had the case solved? Phil nodded blankly then turned back toward the court as he flipped the notebook open. He frowned inwardly as he read the first question aloud. "Mr. Ortega, do you know a Miss Maryann Robinson?"

  "Objection!" the District Attorney snapped. "Relevancy."

  The judge examined the defense attorney with a slight frown. "Mr. Blakely," he said in a voice that seemed to hinge on disgust. "Can I assume that you will make this relevant soon?"

  He'd only had a moment to glance at the questions in the notebook and was still very unsure where all of this would lead. But he had to trust Dani Hayward. "Yes your honor," Phil said with less than total assurance.

  "Very well," the black-robed man replied. "I will overrule the objection."

  "Thank you your honor," Phil said with a slight nod toward the bench then turned back to the witness. He noticed that Roger Ortega looked even more uncomfortable now than when he had sat down in the chair. "Would you like me to repeat the question Mr. Ortega?"

  The gaunt man took a deep breath then shook his head. "No." He gave the defendant a momentary glance before he responded. "Mary Ann Robinson was a professor in the Psychology department at Harrison."

  "Was?"

  "She quit last year and moved to California."

  Phil read the second question. "Is it not true, Mr. Ortega, that, until a year ago, you were married to Maryann Robinson?"

  The defense attorney heard a soft gasp behind him and turned to see his client's shocked gaze locked on the man sitting on the witness stand.

  Ortega sighed exaggeratedly as he looked down at his hands. "Yes, it's true."

  Now Phil was beginning to understand the jest of the list of questions Dani had handed him. "And did she divorce you before she moved to California?"

  "Yes." Roger Ortega's voice was becoming less and less audible.

  "What were the grounds for that divorce Mr. Ortega?"

  "Objection," Rivera growled. "Relevancy."

  The judge did not even look at the defense attorney. "I think I can see where Mr. Blakely is going with this," the silver-haired man said thoughtfully. "Objection overruled. Continue Mr. Blakely."

  Phil realized he had actually scored another point against the gung-ho District Attorney. "Thank you your honor." He looked back to the witness. "Mr. Ortega, what were the grounds of your divorce from Mary Ann Robinson?"

  The witness seemed to stiffen his shoulders and he met the barrister's gaze with what appeared to be fiery determination. "Adultery."

  Phil could now see the pieces of the puzzle fitting together. He glanced at the next question. "Did you ever see your wife in the company of another man Mr. Ortega?"

  The fire that grew behind Roger Ortega's deep-set eyes was instant. "I sure did," he snapped. "I saw her with him.” He pointed directly at the defendant. “Richard Clark!"

  Several gasps arose then died quickly and, for an instant, Phillip Blakely felt a rock form in the pit of his st
omach. He had to trust Dani now more than ever. He checked the notebook before going on. "Where, specifically, did you see them together?"

  "I followed them to a restaurant one night," the witness growled. "Oh, they pretended to only be talking, but I knew better. She was seeing him behind my back."

  "Did you ever see the defendant and your wife together at any other time?"

  "No, but I knew they were. They were always sneaking around."

  It was obvious the witness was on a roll now. And, Phil knew, if he didn't bring Roger Ortega down soon, it would appear that the defense witness was more of a prosecution witness. "Mr. Ortega," he continued and hoped that would be accomplished with this question. "Is it not a fact that, instead of your wife, it was you who was sneaking around?"

  Roger Ortega's fiery gaze, which had been locked on Richard Clark, rifled to Blakely then fell. "I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered.

  That was better. Another quick glance at the notebook. "Oh, I think you do Mr. Ortega. Were you not having an affair with one of your students?"

  The man's blazing eyes rifled upward. "I was not! She was the guilty one and tried to blame it on me!"

  "Liar!" came a cry from the back of the courtroom. The slender redhead who was still sitting beside the blonde-haired man, jumped to her feet . Her fiery green eyes were focused on the witness. "You lousy liar!"

  "Order," the judge snapped and slammed his gavel on the bench twice. "Young lady, sit down or I will have you in contempt."

  Once the woman had taken her seat again and the crowd had settled down, Phil continued. "Now, Mr. Ortega. I will ask you again. Were you having an affair with one of your students?"

  The wind was gone from Roger Ortega's sails as his gaze fell to his locked fingers and stayed there. He nodded dismally. "Yes."

  "And did your wife learn of that affair and is that the reason she filed for divorce?"

  "Yes."

  Phil did not understand the next line in the notebook but he knew better than to question it. "Your honor, if I could interrupt the testimony of this witness to call another witness?"

  "If it will expedite your point then please do so," the judge said wearily.

  "Thank you your honor," he said and consulted the notebook before turning. "I call Andrea O'Shea to the stand."

  The redhead rose instantly and came forward with all of the defiance of a woman scorned. She gave Roger Ortega a wicked glare as they passed between the tables.

  While she was being sworn in, Phillip took a second to give the brunette a questioning glance. It was met with a twisted smile he did not understand and was still contemplating when he faced the pretty co-ed. "Miss O'Shea, what is your occupation?"

  "I'm a student at Harrison College." She sat stiffly in the chair but that stiffness had an air of determination in it.

  "Do you know Roger Ortega?"

  "I sure do," she snipped and glared at the gaunt professor who was sitting in the second row of spectators.

  "How well do you know him?"

  "Very well. We had an affair for almost eight months."

  Phil examined the next question in the notebook curiously before relaying it aloud. "Were you acquainted with the deceased?"

  The woman's voice softened and her shoulders sagged. "Yes, I knew him."

  "What was your relationship with Professor Harold Thornton?"

  She smiled tenderly. "I guess you could say we were seeing each other."

  Phil ignored the murmurs that rose and fell. "How did that come about?"

  Andrea O'Shea straightened her shoulders again, this time with obvious pride. "Right after Roger's wife divorced him and moved away he told me he didn't want to see me anymore. I was pretty broken up about it. I cared for Roger a lot." She released a soft sigh. "One day, Professor Thornton found me in the lecture hall, crying. He talked to me like my grandfather used to when I was sad. He was kind and considerate and he seemed to understand what I was going through." A tremored smile touched the corners of her mouth. "He really helped me out that day. I don't think I'd have made it if it wouldn't have been for the Professor." She brushed away a stray tear. "He gave me his cell number and told me, if I ever needed to talk, to call him, day or night. I appreciated what he'd done for me that day but I was really afraid that, if I did call him, his wife would find out and think I was having an affair with him." She looked down at her twisting fingers and shrugged. "Then, one day, a couple of months later, he saw me outside the library and asked me about it. He was so much like my grandfather that I couldn't help but tell him the truth." She offered a weak smile. "He told me not to worry about his wife, that she would understand if the question ever came up and to call if I needed his shoulder. After that, I did call, several times."

  "Were you with him at the country club the morning of his death?"

  The red head bobbed slowly. "Yes I was. But it's not what you think."

  Phil smiled at her reassuringly. "Tell the court what happened that day."

  Andrea O'Shea gave the defense attorney a feeble smile then looked back down at her fingers. "Roger called me that morning and said he'd learned that I was having an affair with Professor Thornton. I tried to tell him I wasn't but he didn’t believe me. He said he was going to come over to my apartment and we were going to have it out once and for all." She rubbed another tear off her cheek. "I was so scared. I grabbed my purse and left. I drove around for a while then called the Professor's cell phone from a phone booth near the campus and left a message. I waited for him to call me back and when he did, I told him about Roger. He said he was at the country club and to drive over and we could talk there."

  "And you drove to the country club?"

  "Yes. I got there about ten o'clock. He was waiting in the lobby. The bar was closed but went in and talked for a long time." The witness looked up after brushing another tear from her cheek. "He told me he was waiting for the Pro Shop to open so he could buy a new set of clubs. He said, if I would wait until he bought them, he'd follow me back to my place and talk to Roger if he was there."

  "Did you wait?"

  The redhead nodded. "Yes, I waited with him. I enjoyed talking to the professor. Like I said, he reminded me of my grandfather." She sighed dismally. "Well, after he bought the golf clubs, he followed me back to my place."

  "Was Roger Ortega there?"

  "No he wasn't."

  "Then what happened?"

  "The professor checked my apartment then he told me he would be home the rest of the day if I needed to talk. He said he'd call Roger and straighten him out so he wouldn't bother me anymore."

  "And that was the last time you saw Professor Thornton?"

  The tears rolled down the woman's cheeks. "Yes." Her voice was filled with pain.

  "Thank you Miss O'Shea," Phil said and returned to the defense table. He gave Richard Clark a quick glance then turned back. "That will be all."

  "Mr. Rivera?"

  "No questions," the District Attorney said bluntly.

  Phil turned back to his table and surreptitiously looked at the brunette. He saw her point a single index finger at herself and he nodded discreetly.

  "Mr. Ortega, return to the stand," the judge instructed.

  "Your honor," Phil interrupted hurriedly. "Before I recall Roger Ortega, I'd like to call one more witness."

  "Very well Mr. Blakely. Call your witness."

  "I call Dani Hayward to the stand."

  The brunette rose and came forward, exchanging glances with the defense attorney as she went past him.

  After watching her be sworn in, Phil turned to the next page of the notebook Dani had given him. He glanced at the questions then approached her. "Miss Hayward, for the record, please state your occupation."

  "I'm a private investigator."

  "What is your association with this case?"

  "You hired me to do an investigation."

  "Your honor," the District Attorney groaned as he got to his feet. "This is turning into a parad
e."

  "I totally agree with you Mr. Rivera," the judge concurred. "But, nonetheless, it is a parade that is becoming very interesting. Continue, Mr. Blakely."

  Phil had to stifle a chuckle before he turned back to his witness. "Thank you your honor. “Miss Hayward, did you investigate the association between Roger Ortega and Andrea O'Shea?"

  "I did."

  "What did you learn?"

  Dani removed a small notebook from her pocket and opened it. "Precisely what Miss O'Shea said on the witness stand. She and Professor Ortega did have an affair."

  "Was the affair a secret?"

  "On the contrary. It was a very open relationship."

  The next question on the list puzzled Phillip Blakely. "Did you attempt to contact Maryann Robinson?"

  "Objection," Rivera said succinctly. "Relevancy."

  "Overruled," the judge said sternly with barely a glance at the District Attorney. "The witness will answer."

  "I tried to," Dani replied.

  "You couldn't find her?"

  "According to Harrison College,” the witness began. “In June of last year, Professor Mary Ann Robinson quit her job in the Psychology Department to take a position at San Diego State University in Southern California." Dark eyes bounced to the notebook and back. "I contacted San Diego State but, according to them, Professor Robinson never arrived."

  Phil Blakely's frown was instantaneous. "Never arrived? Did you find out why?"

  "Not without a lot of investigating."

  “Your honor," the District Attorney grumbled wearily as he unfolded himself from his chair.

  The judge's gaze rifled to him and narrowed. "Overruled Mr. Rivera. Go on Mr. Blakely. This is getting quite interesting."

  Phil Blakely was as taken aback by the judge's abrupt dismissal of the objection as the District Attorney was. "Thank you your honor," he said politely and turned back to the brunette. "You were saying Miss Hayward?"

  Dani nodded. "I learned that Mary Ann Robinson left the Dallas area on the morning of June 21st." She consulted her notebook. "She purchased gasoline with one of her credit cards near Abilene then again near Pecos, Texas then again in El Paso, where she stayed overnight in a motel there." Her gaze bounced to the notebook again. "According to the motel records, Mary Ann Robinson turned in her key just after six o'clock on the morning of June 22nd." A deep frown creviced Dani Hayward's brow. "That was the last time she was seen or heard from."

  The defense attorney's frown mirrored the witnesses. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean none of her credit cards were used after she left El Paso."

  "Perhaps she used cash," Phil suggested.

  The dark head swung. "It was Mary Ann Robinson's pattern to always use credit cards when she traveled. She had done so in the past and was doing so this time."

  Phil had an eerie feeling that Dani Hayward already knew what had happened to Mary Ann Robinson. "Could it be possible that she had another credit card?"

  "We thought of that and checked with all of the credit card companies that Mary Ann Robinson did business with. The last time she used any of them was when she paid for her lodgings in El Paso, Texas on the morning of June 22nd."

  "Please continue relaying to the court what you learned Miss Hayward."

  Again the District Attorney got to his feet. “Your honor,” he began. “The whereabouts of Mary Ann Robinson have no bearing on this case. It’s irrelevant.”

  “Perhaps,” the judge said. “However, I want to hear what this witness has to say. Please continue Miss Hayward.”

  Dani nodded to the judge then turned back to her notebook. "I contacted the Texas State Troopers and, together, we searched the few miles of interstate between El Paso and the New Mexico border. When that turned up nothing I contacted the New Mexico State Police. Together, we started at the Texas-New Mexico border and began checking the logical route toward the Arizona-California border."

  The defense attorney returned to his table for a moment, pretended to be shuffling some papers as he surreptitiously glanced at the notebook. His eyes flared at the next question before he turned and faced the witness. "Did you find Mary Ann Robinson Miss Hayward?"

  "Yes, we found her."

  "Explain, please."

  Dani glanced at her notes. "We discovered Mary Ann Robinson's car, a late model blue four door sedan, abandoned on a dirt access road, seven miles off of Interstate 10, about halfway between Las Cruces and Deming, New Mexico. The driver's door was ajar and we found her purse, contents intact, sitting on the front seat. Her keys were missing." The brunette frowned. "We brought in a team of dogs and discovered her badly decomposed body in a shallow grave near some sagebrush less than fifty feet from her car. Her car keys were clutched in her hand beneath her."

  There were soft murmurs in the courtroom that never reached Phil Blakely's thoughts. His eyes were at full width as he returned to his table and perched on the edge of it. "Did a coroner determine the cause of death?"

  "Yes," came the instant response as dark eyes bounced to the notebook again. "The coroner determined that there had been multiple stab wounds, any of which could have been the cause of death."

  "Could have been?"

  The brunette nodded. "The coroner found that Mary Ann Robinson's neck was broken and was, ultimately, the cause of death."

  Phil wasn't sure where to go from there and checked the notebook but found no help there. He took a deep breath to chase away the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Miss Hayward, was any evidence found at the scene?"

  "Yes Mr. Blakely. The majority of it has been turned over to the New Mexico authorities." She pulled a plastic bag from her pocket and held it up. "This single key was also found at the scene."

  "Your honor," the District Attorney groaned and clambered to his feet. "We are not here to determine who killed Mary Ann Robinson or, in fact, whether she was killed or not."

  The judge, who had been listening intently to the testimony, released a disgruntled sigh then looked at the man across the room from him. "If that was an objection Mr. District Attorney, it was a rather crude one. Would you care to rephrase?"

  Rivera frowned slightly then nodded. "I object to this line of questioning. It is totally irrelevant to the case your honor."

  "That's better," the judge said evenly as he turned back to the defense attorney. "Overruled," he snapped and gave the district attorney a sideways glance. "Continue Mr. Blakely."

  Phil Blakely found it was all he could do to keep from laughing out loud and heard more than one chuckle filter to his ears before he continued. "Have you determined who the key belongs to Miss Hayward?"

  "Not exactly," she admitted and stuffed the bag back into her pocket. "But we have determined that it fits one of the staff rooms at Harrison College."

  This time, the murmurs in the courtroom were so loud the judge grabbed for his gavel. "Order," he snapped and slammed the gavel on his bench again. "I will have no more outbursts in my court."

  Once the spectators had quieted down Phil continued. "Do you know which staff room Miss Hayward?"

  "Yes sir," Dani replied. "It fits the staff lounge." Her tapered eyebrows met. "Unfortunately all of the staff lounges at Harrison use the same type of key so there is no way of determining which staff lounge it goes to."

  Phil decided it was time for him to take over. "Miss Hayward," he said and got to his feet. "Did you check with Harrison College to see if anyone had reported a lost key?"

  "Yes. Eight staff professors reported a lost key over the past twelve months."

  "Are any of those names associated with this case?"

  "Yes. Two of them."

  "What are those names?"

  The dark gaze hit the notebook. "Professors' Clark and Ortega."

  Damn. Phil hadn't wanted to hear that. He had hoped his client's name would not have been among them. He felt a hand on his arm and met his client's gaze as Richard Clark leaned toward him.

  "I found my key Mr. Blakely," the defendant
whispered. "Besides, I was nowhere near Texas or New Mexico when she says Mary Ann disappeared."

  "Where were you and can you prove it?"

  “Yes, I can prove it. I was out in California with Ted."

  Phil nodded then glanced at the notebook before he looked back at the brunette on the witness stand. "Miss Hayward," he said with a more curious frown than he displayed. "You told me that you have a demonstration for the court."

  "Objection!" Rivera snapped. "Surely...."

  "Sit down Mr. Rivera," the judge snapped and met the surprised gaze of the District Attorney. "This court is more than interested in what this witness has had to say and would be equally interested in any demonstration she has." His gaze slid to the brunette. "That is, if she can tie it in with the case."

  "I can your honor," Dani assured.

  "Very well," the silver-haired man decided. "Proceed with the demonstration."

  Dani stepped down from the witness stand and went to the railing where the blonde-haired man handed over a black briefcase. She laid it on the corner of the defense table then glanced around the courtroom before meeting the judge's gaze. "With the court's permission, I would like to ask that Lieutenant Alvarado assist me in this demonstration."

  The judge nodded then watched the uniformed man come forward. "You are still under oath Lieutenant," he reminded.

  "Yes your honor," Alvarado replied as he stopped in front of the defense table and looked at the brunette.

  "I'll need the murder weapon," Dani announced. "Would you get that for me Lieutenant?"

  As the uniformed officer retrieved the knife from the evidence table Dani removed a white cloth from the briefcase and handed it to him. "Please wipe the knife clean of all fingerprints.” After he had done so, Dani went on. "Now, hand the knife to Professor Clark."

  "Your honor," Rivera was on his feet again. "I do not think that putting the murder weapon back into the hands of the accused murderer is a good idea."

  The judge frowned then looked at the brunette. "Miss Hayward?"

  "I will take full responsibility for Professor Clark," she told him levelly.

  "Very well," the judge replied. "Continue with the demonstration."

  Dani looked at the Lieutenant. "Hand the knife to Professor Clark," she instructed. "Handle first."

  Alvarado did as he was instructed, keeping a close eye on the defendant's muscles.

  "Now take it back and be sure not to disturb the fingerprints on the handle," she told the uniformed officer. Dani removed a small black case from the briefcase and flipped it open. "I have a fingerprint kit here," she informed and met the Lieutenant's gaze. "Would you do us the honors of lifting the prints." Everyone in the courtroom watched the uniformed Lieutenant remove the fingerprints from the smooth handle. Dani removed a stapled set of sheets from the briefcase as he finished. "I have a copy of your reports," she told the Lieutenant. "Would you compare them to the sets you took when Professor Clark was arrested and those you found at the murder scene."

  Jerry Alvarado compared them with the magnifying glass she provided. "They match," he announced, not at all surprised that they would.

  "Alright, now would you please clean the knife again then hand it to me," Dani instructed.

  The Lieutenant did as he was instructed, watched the woman grip it firmly before she held it back toward him.

  "Now I want you to lift that set of prints from the handle," she instructed. "And compare them to the others."

  "But that would be ridiculous," the Lieutenant scowled. "Your fingerprints are on the handle now, not Clark's."

  "Please do as I ask Lieutenant," Dani frowned.

  Jerry sighed heavily then went about the task of lifting the prints from the smooth bone handle. He bent over the table, compared the newest set of prints to the others, then looked up with wide, shocked eyes. "They match," he announced, his voice laced with complete shock.

  Murmurs rose instantly, forcing the judge to bang his gavel twice before the crowd quieted down. "Would you care to explain that Miss Hayward?" the judge scowled. "I saw the Lieutenant wipe the knife handle clean."

  "Yes your honor," Dani replied. "You did. But what you did not see...." She eased her fingers under the cuff of her long sleeved sweatshirt and pulled off a thin, totally transparent rubber glove then held it up. "Was this."

  "A rubber glove?" the judge frowned.

  "Not just a rubber glove," the woman corrected. "This is a very sophisticated rubber mixture that, when molded around an object, will actually take on the texture and form of that object with micro-thin accuracy." She turned and met Richard Clark's gaze. "Professor Clark had first-hand experience with this compound when he had a costume designed for a Halloween ball last year."

  Richard Clark's face went white before he spun in his chair and looked toward someone at the back of the courtroom.

  "Who designed portions of that costume Professor Clark?" the judge asked with a deepening frown.

  "Roger Ortega," the man behind the defense table said hoarsely.

  All eyes were on the gaunt Chemistry professor as he slowly rose to his feet.

  "Yes," he admitted with a slight shrug. "I designed the costume for him. So what? I've designed costumes for a lot of people."

  "But Richard Clark was the only one that you were so meticulous with, wasn't it Mr. Ortega." Dani said. "You just couldn't seem to get the gloves right and had to do them several times, isn't that right?" She did not wait for a response. "You'd seen Richard Clark and your wife together. Even when you were making that costume for Professor Clark, you were scheming to get back at him for taking your wife away from you. When Mary Ann Robinson left for California, it almost drove you crazy, didn't it." Dani could see the man's face ashen. "You hated Richard Clark. You blamed him for the break-up of your marriage. You had to get even with him. You had to get back at him for taking Mary Ann away from you."

  "Yes!" Roger Ortega cried harshly and glared at the defendant. "He took my wife away from me. I couldn't let him get away with that." He chuckled demonically. "I saved the gloves. After Clark was gone I made a rubber mold of the inside of the fingers. I was shocked at how perfect it came out. The fingerprints were perfect and, when I put the glove on, you could barely see it on my hand." His eyes danced with fire. "I wasn't sure how I was going to get even with him until Thornton called me that evening. While he was explaining about his relationship with Andrea, it hit me. I knew about the break-up of his and Clark's friendship and saw how they had all but been at each other's throats at the faculty meeting. I had heard they were starting to get back together and realized it was perfect. I saw my opportunity and I took it." He smiled evilly. "When Thornton suggested we get together and talk I took him up on it. I put the glove on and went to Thornton's house. He was alone when I got there." He laughed. "He told me how he thought of Andrea as a granddaughter and how she'd told him that I thought they were having an affair. I pretended to understand. Later on, we got off onto hunting and he showed me his knife collection. While his back was turned, I took the knife out of the case and came up behind him and...." Suddenly, Roger Ortega looked down at his hands. "I killed him," he said, almost in disbelief before he looked back at the brunette. "Then I made damned sure that I left enough of Clark's fingerprints around before I left." His demonic smile returned. "I got him back," he said and glared at the defendant. "Yeah Clark. I got you back damned good."

  "Lieutenant," the judge snapped. "Take that man into custody."

  Alvarado, who had already been moving toward Roger Ortega completed the trek with the bailiff at his heels. He grabbed the gaunt man's arm as two police officers entered the room and joined the trio.

  "If I could have one more moment," Dani asked of the judge. "I think I can clear one other thing up."

  "Take all of the moments you need Miss Hayward," the silver-haired man smiled at her.

  "Thank you your honor," she replied and turned back to the Chemistry professor. "You followed Mary Ann Robinson when she
left Dallas that morning didn't you Mr. Ortega."

  Roger Ortega's face ashened again and he frowned. "I don't know what you mean."

  "You followed her to El Paso, then, probably under false pretenses, you lured her to that dirt road and killed her," Dani accused.

  The man hung his head but said nothing.

  "The New Mexico State Police have evidence that you were there Mr. Ortega," the brunette informed. "They found you fingerprints on the door handle of her car."

  Ortega nodded glumly. "Yes, I was there." He looked up through dull eyes. "I loved her so much. I just couldn't stand to think of her leaving me." He sighed heavily. "If I couldn't have her nobody else was going to either."

  Epilogue

  Dani Hayward closed her briefcase and looked at the two men who were watching her from behind the defense table.

  "I owe you my life Miss Hayward," Richard Clark said without hesitation. "I can never repay you for that." His forehead furrowed. "How'd you figure out it was Roger?"

  "When I learned that Mary Ann Robinson was his wife and that she'd never made it to California there was only one solution," she informed. "Once I figured out what had happened to her the rest was easy."

  "But it all seemed so cut and dried," the Professor said with a frown. "He committed the perfect crime."

  "Almost," Dani said with a slight smile. "He didn’t know you well enough to know you did not drink.”

  Richard Clark smiled. "I knew, one day, that I'd be glad I had never acquired the habit. I was always satisfied knowing I would never end up like my father. I never considered that it would save my life in any other way."

  "One other thing Professor," Dani smiled. "The Dean at Harrison College has told me he wishes to speak with you about you returning to Harrison this fall."

  “Thank you Miss Hayward,” Richard Clark grinned. He got to his feet, shook hands with both the woman and his attorney then exited the courtroom.

  Phillip Blakely closed his briefcase slowly then met the large brown eyes and realized he was beginning to feel more at ease around her. “You won. Again."

  “This case was a good challenge," the woman said with a slight lilt to her voice. "It's been a long time since I've had a good challenge." She picked up her briefcase. “Actually, about six years."

  He chuckled as the pair left the courtroom together.

  Phil followed the brunette out of the courtroom and along the empty marble corridor to the exit. They walked in silence until they were out in the warm afternoon air. Dani stopped halfway down the sidewalk and looked at the barrister just as a black sedan eased to a stop at the curb.

  "You know Phil," the brunette said with a smile . "Computers crash." She slid something into his suit jacket pocket. "I'd hate to think that next time you find yourself to the point of desperation, you didn't have my number." With that, she turned and went down the sidewalk and disappeared into the backseat of the sedan.

  The attorney watched the car speed off into the distance and disappear around a corner. Only then did he remove the item from his pocket and looked down at a non-descript business card.

  'Dani Hayward Investigations'

  'Dial any Area Code, 555-3264'

  He turned the card over and read the familiar handwriting;

  'Phil, the coffee’s on you next time.'

  ~~THE END~~