“That is simply not good enough.” Hernandez stood, pacing in the tiny room. “We must end this defense. With finality. Plunge a harpoon into the great white whale.”
“The simplest approach would be to eliminate Pike.”
“That would create a martyr. And a trial delay. I want Sweeney in prison. Once there, my people on the inside will be able to eliminate him permanently.”
Jose swallowed. “Sir...you complain of our inaction...but forbid us to do anything.”
Hernandez inhaled deeply. He took a moment, hoping it would give his lieutenants a chance to reflect. And think. And worry. “I have not forbidden you to do everything.”
“Then what? We can’t go after Pike. So you sent us after the one he cares about most.”
Hernandez raised a finger. “That is where you erred. You did not go after the one he loves most. There is another. Family ties are strong. But nothing is as strong as passion.”
“Do you mean...the former mayor?”
“Of course not. She is dead to him now.” He pushed a photograph across the table. “My people tell me that he is now in a relationship with his law partner. Maria Morales.”
Santiago nodded. “They do seem...friendly.”
“I know this Pike. He is a real man. He will feel a responsibility to protect the woman of his heart. And when he fails...it will devastate him.”
Santiago took the photo. “You want me to go after her?”
“Precisely.”
“And this time...what are we permitted to do? Simply scare her?”
Hernandez shook his head vehemently. “This time, the gloves are off.”
“Meaning...we can hurt her?”
Hernandez smiled. “Meaning you can do anything you want to her. And then kill her.”
* * *
Maria walked back to her apartment, trying to stay in the light cast by the intermittent streetlamps. She’d stopped at the corner grocery to pick up a few essentials. There was a brisk chill in the air tonight. She wore a hoodie, the one Dan had given her with the lined pockets. She walked at a steady pace. Still cold, but she’d be home soon.
She was starving. This always happened when they were in a big trial. It was as if everything normal about her life, all habit or routine, disappeared. She had been so busy she forgot to eat. This case was particularly unsettling since, first, they were dealing with a murderer who had dismembered a body and, second, she had to sit next to Conrad Sweeney all day long. She would never get used to that.
She’d picked up some pasta at the grocery and was hoping to whip up a snack before bedtime. Dan might be the gourmet chef, but she knew how to slap together a darn good meal and she could usually get the job done in about ten minutes. Dan took that long just to chop the vegetables. And fuss about whether he was using kosher salt or pink Himalayan sea salt.
Dan. What the hell was she doing? She still didn’t know how to define their relationship. He seemed to like her and was no longer embarrassed to show it in public. He was affectionate. Kind. Considerate.
But he still hadn’t invited her back to the boat. Was there something wrong with her? Was he deliberately keeping a distance?
She rounded the corner and headed toward her apartment building.
Or, she worried, was Dan still scarred, devastated, by how the relationship with Camila turned out? How that woman betrayed his trust?
She tried to block that out of her head. They had a case to win. When that was over, she’d sit Dan down in a chair and read him the relationship riot act. Put up or shut up, dude. And if he didn’t—
A man leapt out of the shadows. She had no time to identify him, no time to react, no time to do anything. He tackled her and knocked her into an alcove beside the front door of the apartment building, where the Dumpsters were kept. Her head slammed back against something hard and metal, dazing her. A clanging reverberated through her ears.
She knew she had to think fast or it would be too late. What would Dan tell her to do? Scream. Then run. Unfortunately, at the moment, she didn’t seem to be able to muster the energy to do either. Weren’t security people supposed to be watching her? Where were they?
Then she remembered. She told everyone she was going home for the evening. They thought they were done for the day. Then she made a last-minute decision to go to the grocery.
Alone.
“End of the road for you, lawyer.” The man towering over her had a thick Spanish accent.
She started to push herself up off the concrete. He kicked her hard in the chest. Her head slapped back against the Dumpster, making a thunderous sound.
“You’re not going anywhere, lady.”
“I’ll scream.”
“Maybe for a second.” He reached inside his coat and withdrew a hammer. The flat end glistened in the moonlight. “I have a way of silencing screams. Quickly.”
“Is this about the Sweeney case?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He paused, hammer hovering in the air above her. “The only question is whether I kill you fast, like I did Carvel, or if I have some fun with you first.”
A cold chill raced through her body. He was a hundred pounds heavier than her, taller, stronger. And he had a hammer. “You kill me, I won’t be any good to you.”
He shrugged. “One blow to the spinal column. You will be immobilized below the neck. You might be awake, but unable to resist. Unable to do anything except watch.”
“You filthy...disgusting...”
“Stop the sweet talk. You’re turning me on.”
He squatted down, then grabbed her blouse, tearing it. “The fun begins.”
He leaned in closer, smiling, almost drooling.
Maria reached into the lined pocket of her hoodie—and withdrew a taser.
She jammed it into the man’s gut. He stiffened, then thrashed spasmodically in midair. After a few seconds, he collapsed on top of her.
She grimaced, then shoved him aside. He started to push himself up. She jabbed the taser into his side again. And left it there.
He convulsed as if he were having a seizure, but she did not remove the taser. She smelled burning flesh. Blood came out of his ears. But she did not remove the taser.
Only when she feared he might be on the verge of a stroke did she remove the taser. And even then she kept it close and at the ready.
“Filthy son-of-a-bitch,” she muttered, wiping her brow. She inhaled deeply, trying to bring her respiration back to a normal rate. For a moment there, when he hovered over her, she had been so scared...
She made a mental note to thank Dan, who had insisted on tasers for every member of the team, and Mr. K, who paid for them.
And her father, who taught her to protect herself, because no man had any right to exercise power over her against her will.
If only all men were like Dad, she thought, and then she jabbed the taser back into her assailant’s gut.
While he thrashed on the pavement, she scrambled to her feet and fumbled for her cell phone. “Did you think I was going to go down easy? Then you don’t know anything about me. My daddy didn’t raise me to be a victim. He raised me to be a fighter.”
She kicked him, just for good measure. “Did you think we didn’t learn anything after you went after Dinah? Did you think you could push me around because I was female? Newsflash, asshole. Brains beat brawn every time. I am woman, hear me roar.”
Someone picked up the other end of the phone line. St. Petersburg Police. “How may I direct your call?”
“Is Detective Kakazu in? I have a crime to report. And I’m certain he’ll be interested.”
Chapter 41
Dan rushed into the police station. “Where’s Detective Kakazu?”
The woman at the front desk looked up from her computer screen. “You’re Pike, right?”
“Right. And my partner is here somewhere. With Kakazu.”
She nodded and led him inside.
As soon as he saw Maria, he wrapped her in his arms, swooping her of
f the ground.
“Whoa.” Maria blinked several times, then slowly returned the embrace. “Does this mean you missed me?”
“It means I was worried about you.” He placed his hand behind her head. “How are you?”
“I’m okay. A little shaken. But I’ll be fine.”
“Did he—”
“He didn’t do anything. Except scare me. When I saw that hammer...damn. Anyway, I’m fine.”
“I thought you went home.”
“I did. But I went out again.”
“Would you get mad if I said, ‘That was really stupid?’”
“Not this time.” Pause. “But don’t let it happen again.”
He pulled back a little, still holding her. “How am I going to keep you safe?”
“I’m a big girl. I don’t need—”
“It’s obvious I can’t let you out of my sight. I think you should come home with me tonight.”
She blinked rapidly. “You—do?”
“That taser trick only worked because it was one guy. If there had been more...” He shook his head. “No, you’re sticking with me. Agreed?”
“I...could probably live with that.”
Kakazu cleared his throat. “I don’t want to intrude...”
“What happened, Jake? Who is this bastard?”
“He’s not talking. But he’s not an American citizen and he has a thick Central American accent. I don’t want to jump to any assumptions, but I think he’s with the cartel.”
“Then he won’t be behind bars long.”
“We charged him with assault. We can mess around and delay the arraignment a bit, but not forever. We’ve got forty-eight hours, basically, to get him to talk.”
“He won’t. He knows his boss will take care of him.”
Kakazu nodded. “Unless...he thinks he’s safer inside.”
“How do you manage that?”
“If we can convince him that he’s a dead man once he steps into the outside world, he might be more interested in talking to us. And making a deal for protective custody.”
“You’d give him immunity?” Maria said.
“To get this cartel out of St. Petersburg once and for all? Yes. Throw back a minnow to catch the whale.” He smiled a little. “C’mon, Maria. You already got your licks in.”
Dan’s eyes widened. “What’s this?”
“The perp wants to charge Maria with assault and battery. But that isn’t going to happen. I believe she acted in self-defense. Enthusiastically.” He glanced at Dan. “Here’s my advice. Don’t get this woman mad at you.”
“Message received and understood.”
“We’ll keep working on him,” Kakazu said. “He’s scared. Scared people make foolish decisions. He had a hammer, which may tie him to the attack on Dinah and the murder of Carvel. If we charge him with first-degree murder, he won’t get bail.”
“Can you make that stick? Just based on a hammer?”
“I’m hoping it won’t be necessary. I don’t want to lock him away. I want him to crack. And if he does...” Kakazu paused. “I don’t want to be overly optimistic, but...maybe we’ve finally reached a turning point in our decades-long fight against that disgusting cartel.”
“Let’s hope,” Maria said. “He’s probably scared about what could happen to him in prison.”
“Actually,” Kakazu said, “I think what he’s most scared of is you.”
* * *
Dan insisted on taking a taxi back to his boat, even though it wasn’t that far and he would normally enjoy a brisk walk in the sea salt air. But not tonight. It was pitch black outside, no moon, no stars. The wind was still. And when he thought about what might have happened to Maria...
No. Tonight they would ride.
“We could probably get a continuance,” Dan said. “Given...what happened to you.”
“Don’t even think about it,” she replied. “I want this trial over with. Done. Out of my life.”
“I’m down with that. We don’t have that much more to do.”
She closed her eyes. “Sweeney.”
“Yeah. You still think we should put him on the stand?”
“We have to. Trials are a form of storytelling. The jury votes for the side that tells the best story. If we don’t put Sweeney on the stand, our story has too many unanswered questions. And an anticlimactic conclusion.”
“Jazlyn will not cut him any slack. She’ll go after everything. The business debts. The money laundering. The porn operation.”
“Sweeney can handle it. He’s smart. He won’t get confused or tripped up. Remember that speech you heard him give when he opened the last Sweeney Shelter? He can be eloquent, if he wants to be. If there’s any way to get the jury on his side, he’ll find it.”
“She’ll make him look like a crook.”
“But she won’t make him look like a murderer. And that’s how we succeed.”
“In the exoneration of the most vile, disgusting person I’ve ever known.” He snuggled in a little closer. “Do you ever get the feeling that your life has become...completely different than what you thought it was going to be?”
She grinned. “I know, right? Like, every day.”
He put his arm around her. “Completely different...and much better.”
Chapter 42
As Dan strode down the center of the courtroom, he had the weird feeling he was doing a perp walk. He knew all eyes were on him. He spotted several members of the press in the gallery, but far more civilians, people who were there for no reason except to see whether the city’s best-known defense lawyer could get the city’s best-known criminal off the hook.
He spotted Jamison too. And Prudence, of course. And—
He froze.
There was someone new in the gallery today. Someone he had never seen there before.
Alejandro Hernandez. The reputed leader of the El Salvadoran cartel. He’d never formally met the man, but he recognized him just the same.
Why was he here? Was this some kind of implied threat? Reminding Dan that they might strike at Maria again? Was he threatening the judge? Did he think a courtroom appearance might help his flunky get out on bail?
Or maybe he was trying to warn Sweeney about what might happen if he exposed any cartel secrets on the witness stand.
The two men locked eyes.
He’d be lying if he didn’t admit he felt a shiver. Hernandez had caused so much misery in the world. Been responsible for so many broken lives.
And yet, as he stared into those eyes, he saw...
Was this man tired? He was in his eighties. Was it possible he was sick of all this? Or was he worried? Was he was just as scared as the rest of them?
Dan passed through the swinging gate and approached Sweeney. “We need to talk.”
Sweeney looked up, unimpressed. “Haven’t we been over this chapter and verse? It’s isn’t rocket surgery, you know. I’ll just tell the jury what happened.”
“We have company today.”
“Yes, I know. Hernandez is trying to spook me. Screw him. He doesn’t scare me.” He glanced over at Maria. “Hell, he doesn’t even scare her.”
Prudence leaned over the dividing rail. “Do you want me to drag his wrinkly ass out of here?”
“No!” Dan and Maria said simultaneously.
Sweeney smiled. “Let’s not stir up unnecessary trouble, Prudence. He can’t do anything to me here.”
Prudence sat back. “Believe me, it would be a pleasure.”
Sweeney nodded. “Another time.”
Dan jabbed his thumb toward the far end of the courtroom. “Let’s have a little talk. One last chat before you testify.”
Sweeney followed him. The attending marshal watched them carefully but made no attempt to restrain Sweeney. Presumably, he realized that if Sweeney were going to make a break for it, he wouldn’t bring his lawyer.
Sweeney started. “I already know what to say.”
“I know. I want to talk about your...demean
or.”
“You don’t want to see my usual effervescent personality on the witness stand?” Sweeney laughed heartily. “You want me to put on a show. You want me to act like a nice person. Smile? Maybe bat away a tear every now and again?”
“Totally wrong.”
“What do you want, then?”
“Hard as this is to say...I want you to be yourself.”
“Okay, now I’m confused.”
“Look.” Dan tossed his head toward the jury box. “Those twelve all-important jurors are a lot smarter than people think. The fact that they were chosen randomly doesn’t mean they’re stupid. Some may be more educated, but few are truly dumb. And almost all jurors try to do the right thing.”
“Your faith in humanity is applaudable. And risible.”
“No, listen to me. The ones who don’t care rarely get on juries. It isn’t hard to figure out what responses during jury selection will get you tossed off. The ones who make it through the process want to serve. They want to do their civic duty. And they certainly do not want to put an innocent man behind bars. That’s why they pay close attention. That’s why they watch the witnesses. And no one gets watched more closely than the defendant. So don’t put on a show.”
Sweeney pressed his hands against his chest. “You wound me.”
“In my experience, jurors are pretty good at differentiating the straight-shooters from the con artists. So don’t try to flimflam them. If they detect a false note even once, they may start disbelieving every word you say.”
“Human lie detectors?”
“Kind of, yeah. If even one juror thinks you’re dissembling and says so, they might convince the others—and you could go down in flames.”
Sweeney pondered a moment. “I hear what you’re saying, Pike, but...I am perhaps not renowned for my warm personality.”
“And this would be the wrong time to pretend. Just be yourself.”
“Warts and all?”
“Exactly. You’re never going to convince these jurors that you’re a saint, but if you play straight with them, you might at least convince them you’re not a murderer.”
Sweeney’s head bobbed slightly. “That makes sense, actually. Thank you.”
Final Verdict Page 21
