Speak of the Devil (18 page)

“Where do you think she is?” Anna asked.

“Four-to-one, she slept in. Three-to-one, she forgot the court date and is off getting a mani-pedi. Two-to-one, she changed her mind, fled the country, and you’ll never find her again.”

“Can you go to the hotel, Sam? See if she’s there or if anyone’s seen her?”

Sam sighed. “It’s only thirty minutes past her grand jury time. I expect you were raised to be punctual, but you gotta cut civilians some slack.”

Anna nodded, forced herself to sit down, and re-reviewed her case file. By eleven, even Sam conceded there was a problem.

“Okay.” Sam stood up. “Give me a copy of the subpoena. I’ll swing by the hotel.”

“Thank you.”

Anna returned to her office and spent the next hour trying to get work done. She was feeling off her game, having woken up very early in the Shenandoah Valley and made the long drive in the predawn dark. Jack and Olivia had been mostly quiet—Olivia because she slept, Jack because he was worried. A meeting was scheduled later this afternoon to go over security procedures for Anna in light of the death threat.

A few minutes before noon, Sam appeared with Tierra Guerrero. Tierra wore blue jeans and a big red sweatshirt. Her dark hair was tied back in a ponytail. The woman’s face had healed, but her expression was even more miserable than when she’d been in the hospital.

“Buenos días,”
Anna said, standing to meet them.

“Buenos días,”
Tierra mumbled to the floor.

“She was at the McDonald’s across from the hotel,” Sam said drily. “She forgot the court date. And she didn’t hear the phone ring when we called this morning. Or see our messages.”

Anna met Sam’s eyes and nodded. They both knew this was a lie. Tierra had been avoiding them. Anna would get the full story from Sam later. For now, she was just relieved to see her witness.

“Tierra, what happened today?” Anna asked, when the interpreter arrived. “Why didn’t you come at nine-thirty like we agreed?”

Tierra shook her head and played with an imaginary fleck of lint on her jeans.

“Is everything okay at the hotel?” Anna asked.

Tierra nodded.

“Have you been going to the counselor?”

Tierra mumbled something in Spanish. The translator said, “The counselor is kind. But it is hard for Tierra to get there.”

Anna nodded, recognizing the excuse of someone who didn’t want counseling.

“Are you ready to testify before the grand jury?” Anna asked.

Tierra’s eyes grew big as the translator repeated Anna’s words in Spanish. She shook her head. “No.”

“Why not?” Anna asked.

“I have been thinking about what happened. And I was mistaken about what I told you last time.”

“Mistaken how?” Anna’s stomach clenched. She didn’t want to hear the answer. But she certainly couldn’t elicit it for the first time in front of the grand jury.

“The man you arrested,” Tierra said. “The one called Psycho. He was not with the other three. He was not part of the raid on the brothel. He was a nice man, a paying customer. He came in before the other men. He was having sex with me when the other men arrived and started cutting people up. He was just a john. He’s as much a victim as me.”

“Tierra, we both know that’s not true. That’s not what you told me at the hospital. He sexually assaulted you.”

“I must have been very groggy from all the pain pills when we spoke before. No one assaulted me.”

“Who told you to say this?”

“No one.” Tierra’s eyes were wide with fear. “I’m sorry for getting it wrong when I spoke to you before.”

Anna knew it was pointless to ask her any more questions. The more Tierra talked, the more
Giglio
and
Brady
material she was creating: inconsistent statements, impeachment material, fodder for cross-examination. And the woman was now lying to law enforcement. She needed a lawyer.

Anna’s skin was hot with anger. She tried to focus it on the unseen people who’d threatened Tierra, and not on Tierra herself. The woman was clearly terrified.

Tierra’s statement was designed to clear Psycho of the sexual assault. Had it been true, it would also get him off the hook for felony murder and the murder of the doorman. If he wasn’t part of the gang that raided the brothel, he wasn’t legally responsible for anyone’s death.

“We should revoke the U-visa,” Sam said to Anna. “She doesn’t get a visa for lying.”

Anna shook her head at the translator; she didn’t want this translated.

“No,” she said, taking Sam aside. “She’s still being victimized. She still needs our help. Maybe she’ll come back to our side, start telling the truth again. We might even add an obstruction of justice charge.”

“Good luck getting anything useful out of her.”

Anna made some phone calls, then met Sam and Tierra in the lobby. Tierra’s eyes were red and puffy. She stood when Anna came out.

“Agent Randazzo will go with you to the courthouse,” Anna said, handing her some paperwork. “They’re going to appoint a lawyer for you. You need to talk about all this with your own lawyer. Also, I think you should talk to a woman from Polaris. Here’s her card. She used to work as a prostitute, and she helps other women get out of the trade.”

“Thank you,” Tierra said. “I have created so much trouble for you. I’m so sorry.”

“Be safe,” Anna said. “Call Agent Randazzo if anyone bothers you again.”

Anna went back to her office to write the
Brady
letter. A prosecutor had an obligation to inform a defendant whenever she discovered exculpatory evidence. Anna hated writing a letter like this, where the exculpatory statements were so obviously false and likely the product of witness intimidation. It would just confirm to Psycho that his efforts to obstruct justice were working.

As she typed, Detective McGee knocked on the door of her office. He wore the world-weary, focused expression of a homicide detective who’d just gotten a new case. But it was more than that. It was a look of sympathy, directed at Anna.

“What is it?” Anna asked.

“It’s Ricardo Amaya and Victor Linares—our brothel owner and his timekeeper,” he said. “They’re dead. Their bodies were found in Meridian Hill Park. Both decapitated. Each stabbed thirteen times postmortem.”

26

You need to come off the case,” Jack said. He was gripping his mug so tightly, it looked as though his knuckles were trying to escape from his skin. The remnants of their mostly untouched room-service dinner were pushed to one side of the table.

“That’s not an option,” Anna repeated.

They’d been going in the same conversational circle for the last hour. Anna could hardly believe Jack’s stance. There was no way he would come off a case if
he
were threatened. She was spooked, she was queasy—but she wasn’t quitting.

“Of course it’s a fucking option! They killed two of your witnesses,” he said. “You need to take them seriously when they say they’re going to kill you, too. You’re a great lawyer, but our office has lots of great lawyers. Someone else can try the case.”

“What good does that do? They’ll just threaten the next prosecutor.”

“I’m not engaged to the next prosecutor.”

“You’re their chief.”

“Goddammit! I’m not willing to risk your safety.”

“It’s not your call,” she said softly.

Jack slammed the mug down and stood abruptly, knocking his chair over. He set it straight, picked up Anna’s phone, and strode into the hallway. She was alone for the first time since they’d checked in.

The Marshals had put them in a two-bedroom suite at the Residence Inn by National Airport. Olivia was in one of the bedrooms, watching
Phineas and Ferb
on TV. When Anna and Jack picked her up from school this afternoon, they didn’t tell her why they were going to a hotel. They just said the hotel had a pool. Olivia had been pleased.

Jack came back into the room, holding Anna’s phone out to her. “Your sister wants to talk to you.”

She glared at him, astonished.

“Not cool, Jack.” She took the phone. “Hey, Jody.”

“Annie? Oh my God! You’ve been threatened? You’ve gotta get off the case.”

“No, no, it’s not really a big deal. I’m not sure why Jack is freaking out so much.”

“Not a big deal! You’re in a hotel hiding from people who want to kill you!”

“I know, it sounds bad. But you can’t just quit a case, or every criminal would make threats.”

“That sounds nice in the abstract. Not when it’s my sister’s life.”

“Look, I know a few prosecutors who’ve had death threats. No one abandons the case. You take a few precautions, get the jerks convicted, move on.”

“Jack’s wife got killed like this,” Jody said.

“Yeah . . .” Anna looked over at him. He was pacing by the window, running his hand over the back of his neck. He was usually the coolest head in any room. She’d never seen him so upset. She needed to go easier on him. “No one knows for sure what happened there.”

“Annie, I don’t like it.”

“Me, neither. But it’ll be okay. I promise. How are you? Been to Brent’s house lately?”

“Don’t try to change the subject.”

“I take that as a yes?”

“Anna. Please. Be careful.”

“I will.”

“Love you.”

“You, too.”

She hung up, thinking about her own family. For too long, she’d cowered in silence. She’d vowed never again to back down in the face of violence. She wasn’t backing down now.

She went to Jack, put a gentle hand on his arm, and led him to the couch, where they sat.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “It’s going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that.”

“A prosecutor can’t quit whenever the bad guys threaten them. If we all did that, who would stop the crimes?”

“You sound like me,” Jack said. “Four years ago. I was wrong then. You’re wrong now.”

“What do you mean?”

His face was a mask of pain.

“When Nina was greenlighted,” he said slowly, “she wanted to go into Witness Protection. I disagreed. I said what you’re saying: You stand your ground and fight. That’s what makes America different from places like El Salvador. I thought we could handle things with police patrols at our house, a little protection, and vigilance. Nina disagreed. She said she knew how this gang worked, and they didn’t play by our rules. But she stayed. Because of me, she stayed. A week later, she was dead.”

Anna realized why Jack had been so intent on believing that Nina’s death was a random drug shooting, unrelated to MS-13.

She put her hand on his leg. “Jack, it wasn’t your fault.”

“It might have been.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked directly at her. “I can’t let it happen again.”

“It won’t. I’ll take every precaution.” She listed all the protections the Marshals had enumerated at their meeting today. “We’re in a hotel. The Marshals are giving us portal-to-portal protection as we commute. It’ll be fine.”

If anything, these murders made her even more determined to bring down Psycho and his gang. Not only for what they’d done to Ricardo and Victor, Tierra and Maria-Rosa, and countless girls every year. But for what she suspected they’d done to Nina—and for what that had done to Jack.

A shuffling noise in the doorway made Anna look away from Jack. Olivia stood in the door between the two rooms, looking worried. Anna wondered how much she’d heard.

“Wow!” Anna announced as cheerfully as she could. “How’d it get past your bedtime?”

Olivia shook her head.

“Let’s pick out some good books to read, okay?”

The girl nodded solemnly, and allowed Anna to take her hand and lead her back to her bedroom. They went through the bedtime ritual: story, pj’s, face washing. Olivia brushed her teeth, spat out the foam, and turned to Anna.

“Why are we in this hotel?” Olivia asked.

Anna considered calling Jack in to field the question. But if she was going to be Olivia’s mother, she had to start handling things like this on her own. Stalling for time, she grabbed a washcloth.

“Come here, you look like a rabid dog.”

Olivia looked at her foamy mouth in the mirror and giggled. “Arf, arf.”

Anna wiped the toothpaste from Olivia’s face and wondered what was better: for the girl to feel secure, or for her to know the truth? She wanted Olivia to trust her, to know that when Anna answered her questions, she answered honestly. On the other hand, Anna didn’t want Olivia’s childhood to be filled with worry and fear; Dr. Spock said it was important for kids to grow up believing the world was generally a good place.

“We’re here for work,” Anna said. “Sometimes grown-ups have to move around or go to hotels for work. Nobody likes it, but sometimes you have to do stuff you don’t really love doing, in order to do the right thing.”

“It’s not so bad,” Olivia said. “The pool’s cool.”

“Good.” Anna rinsed the girl’s toothbrush and herded her back to the bedroom. Olivia climbed into bed. Anna wondered if now was a good time to talk about stranger danger, or if that would just freak her out. She turned off the light and tucked the blankets around Olivia’s skinny little legs.

“Anna?” Olivia said.

“Mm-hm?”

“You know not to talk to strangers, right?”

Anna swallowed a laugh. “Yes. I do.”

“Good.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. Everything’s gonna be just fine.” Anna made it sound so convincing, she almost believed it herself. Olivia nodded and rolled over to her side. Anna sat next to her, patting her gently, until the girl fell asleep.

27

At eight the next morning, a deputy U.S. Marshal knocked on their hotel door. Tracey Fitzgerald was a pretty young Asian woman in a dark pantsuit. She would be the deputy who escorted them to and from work. Anna was disappointed that their deputy was a tiny woman; she was expecting a big man, Tommy Lee Jones from
The Fugitive
. Then she felt ashamed at her own sexism. This woman would do a fine job protecting them. A gun had the same power no matter who was firing it.

Fitzgerald walked them to the parking lot and gestured for Jack, Olivia, and Anna to sit in the back of a blue Ford Taurus. Anna felt strange to be riding in the back, as if the deputy were their chauffeur. Their first stop was Olivia’s elementary school. Olivia skipped off to her classroom, and Anna sat with Jack and Fitzgerald as they discussed security procedures with the school principal.