Suspicion of Vengeance (16 page)

"Why, you know, I don't think we ever discussed it."

"Would you say that Lacey Mayfield walked into or across the same area where you saw the man in the denim jacket?"

"Yes, approximately."

Gail could see what Anthony was getting at. In the week that Mrs. Chastain had been out of town, she had confused the details of the two incidents.

He said, "All right. Let's go to the time when you went to Detective Kemp's office and viewed the photographs. When you got there, what happened?"

"Well, he took me to his desk, and we talked for a while. The younger detective was there too. What was his name?"

"Tom Federsen?"

"Yes. We talked, I can't recall what about, and then Captain Bryce came in, and we were introduced. After that, Detective Kemp took me into a conference room. I waited for quite a while. They brought me some coffee. Then I saw the photo display."

"Who showed it to you? Detective Kemp?"

She nodded.

"Who else was there?"

"He and Detective Federsen sat at the table with me, and Captain Bryce was standing to one side. Detective Kemp took a card out of a file. There were six photographs on the card. He said to take my time and tell him if I recognized any of them."

"Were the men all similar in age and appearance?"

"There were six young men, all of them white and clean shaven."

"All with long hair?"

"No, but Detective Kemp said that didn't matter because people's hairstyle can change. I studied the men very carefully. I didn't want to make any mistakes. My eyes kept going to photo number two."

"How sure were you at this point? Fifty percent? Sixty?"

"More like eighty. I said that I truly believed the second photo was the man I'd seen in the Dodsons' yard."

"What did Detective Kemp say to you?"

"He said I'd been very helpful to the investigation, and would I mind coming back to view a lineup? I said I'd do whatever I could to help. I felt so bad about Amber and her baby. What a terrible thing. My heart broke for Gary."

"Yes, of course. To lose both of them." Anthony waited a few beats. "And you went to police headquarters again the next day, didn't you?"

"That's right. Detective Kemp came and picked me up. That was when I saw Mr. Clark in person."

"Where did you see him?"

"They had a two-way mirror like on TV, and I looked through it. The lights were very bright. They stood in front of a wall with height measurements on it. A chill went right down my spine. It was him. Seeing him in person, I knew it was the same man."

"You had no hesitation at all? You came into the room and immediately pointed him out?"

"I took my time. They said not to rush. I said, 'It's number four.' 'Are you certain?' I said, "There is no doubt in my mind.' "

"You initially described the man as medium height and weight with very long hair. Mr. Clark is six feet tall, and his hair was to his shoulders. Did you notice the difference when you saw him in person?"

"The face was the same. I got a clear look at liim the morning of the murder, but it's difficult to judge height."

"Did you ever think, even briefly, that the person you saw was a woman?"

"A woman? Goodness, no. It was a man." Mrs. Chastain pushed herself out of her chair and walked toward the window. "Come here, Mr. Quintana, I'll show you where he was, and how he walked behind Amber's house."

Gail followed them to the window, standing close enough to hear the conversation. Thin white curtains were drawn back, allowing a clear view of the street and the house on the other side.

"Mr. Clark was over there by the stop sign, near the hedge. He looked around furtively, like this, you see? Then he walked toward the back of the house."

"That was suspicious. Did you call Amber?"

"No, I... I thought of calling her, but my friend came to pick me up just then, and I didn't have time."

"You stood here for several minutes after the man walked out of your sight. That's what you said at the trial."

Slowly, Mrs. Chastain replied, "Yes. That's true. I had time."

"Was there a reason you didn't call her?"

"I should have. I know I should have. I just—didn't want to be a bother. Amber had made it clear to me in no uncertain terms that she didn't appreciate intrusions."

"Amber had accused you of ... meddling? Of being nosy? Spying on her?"

"I never spied on her. I tried to be a good neighbor."

"So you didn't call her. You must regret that decision now."

Head bowed, Mrs. Chastain said, "Not a day goes by I don't think about it."

"Yes, it would be painful, knowing that as you stood here, just as we stand here now, a stranger was breaking into her house. Stabbing her to death."

"I can't tell you how awful I feel."

"But you made sure that her killer was brought to justice. At least you did that for her. That's what you wanted to do, wasn't it? For Amber?"

"Yes. I did." She put her fingers under her glasses to wipe away tears on her cheeks. "I just don't see why you think he could be innocent. I saw him."

As Dorothy Chastain stood by her window and wept, Gail could imagine what a jury would have done, hearing this. They might not have been so convinced she was right. Maybe it hadn't been a man she'd seen going around the house, but a woman—Lacey Mayfield, dropping by to check on her sister. If she had seen a man at the corner, he could have been anyone. Mrs. Chastain went out of town for a week, and she forgot the details. The two events got mixed up in her mind. She felt so guilty about not calling Amber that she ID'd the first photo that looked plausible.

But Anthony Quintana hadn't been asking the questions that day. It had been Walter Meadows, a court-appointed hack who overlooked the obvious, fumbled the cross-examination, and delivered his final argument half drunk. The jury had believed Mrs. Chastain. They voted to send Kenny Ray Clark to death row.

Sunday evening

This far up the coast the land pitched more abruptly into the ocean. The waves didn't curl gently as they did on Miami Beach; they boomed. The sea foam rushed toward the land, digging at the shore and leaving a low shelf of sand as it fell back. A cold front had moved through, turning the sky to lead and chilling the air. A gust of wind flapped the edges of Gail's jacket and spun her hair around her face. Not much daylight remained. They wanted to be together one more night, then drive back before dawn, in time for Gail to have breakfast with Karen.

They walked north past an empty lifeguard stand, a sand-washed boulder, bits of driftwood. Gail took her hand out of Anthony's for a moment to pull her scarf closer. The wind cut through her sweater.

"Are you cold?"

"Yes, but it feels good. By July we'll be crying for this weather." She slid her arms under his jacket and around his waist. His muscles were tight and defined. "You feel good too."

He kissed her. His lips were cool until he opened his mouth, and the heat flooded into her. She clung to him. There were a few people out walking, but she didn't care what they thought.

He held her face. "We lasted the weekend together without a fight, did you notice? I think we could make it maybe thirty years, what do you think?"

"Hmm. That's a long time."

"True, but this is a pretty good start, no? Are you busy this week? We could get married."

She laughed and shook her head.

"When? Tell me."

"I don't know."

"Tell me a month. May. June. September. Anything." The wind blew her hair into her eyes, and she brushed it away. "Where's my ring?"

"I said I'll find it."

"When you do, we'll talk." She took a step backward and skidded when the sand gave way.

"Ay, cuidado."
Anthony grabbed her hand and pulled her up the slope before the next wave could soak her feet. He locked his arms around her waist and pressed his hips tightly to hers. "You can't get away. You know this, don't you?"

She made a show of shaking her head. "You don't own me."

"Oh, yes. You are mine. You don't go anywhere without my permission."

"In your dreams, buddy."

"I want to hear you say it. ‘I am yours, Anthony. I can't live without you.' Come on, say it." His breath was hot in her ear.
"Soy tuya, mi amor."

"Oh, stop. You are so rotten, Anthony!"

"Si, Anthony, papito, tú eres mi dueño, no puedo vivir sin tí."
He nuzzled her neck, licking the skin under her ear.

Gail noticed an older couple walking by, smiling. She gave Anthony a quick kiss. "All right, we'll get married—as soon as you find my ring and Kenny is out of prison. Deal?"

He dropped his arms and looked skyward as if checking the heavy clouds for rain. "Do you not realize,
señora,
how long it could take to get him out of there?
If
he gets out of there."

"Fine. Let me just get this motion filed and done with. That should be only a few more months. And what do you mean,
If
?" Anthony turned his head to look at her. Gail said, "Given what we've learned this weekend, I'm definitely optimistic. You aren't?"

He shrugged. "You have something to work with. I am optimistic to that extent."

She studied his face. He was serious. "We have a good case," she said.

"If you subpoena Dorothy Chastain as a witness, and even if she says to the judge what she said to us today, it would be useless. The judge won't disregard the jury's prior decision to believe her. So all you have is Tina Hopwood. And maybe the snitch, if you can find him yourself, because your cousin is too much under the thumb of her father to help you."

"Kenny is innocent."

"Perhaps he is, but it doesn't matter. The burden of proof is reversed. Your client is guilty until
proven
innocent, not
maybe
he's innocent."

"It doesn't matter?" Gail could feel the slope of the sand shift under her feet, and she held on to Anthony's arm. "I can't lose this case. I won't."

In the fading light his eyes had gone black. She looked into them like looking into a chasm.

"Don't think about winning or losing. If you let yourself worry that you're the only thing standing between your client and disaster, you begin to panic and you won't be effective for anyone. Even the most brilliant lawyer can fail. Sometimes it's a matter of luck, of timing. It's out of your control. All you can do is fight like hell and then let it go."

"I refuse to
let it go,
Anthony."

"All right." His voice was soft. Placating.

"You
can let it go. That's how you are. I can't detach myself that easily. I can't give up and see an innocent man put to death. I refuse to let it happen."

He reached out and brushed her cheek with his fingers. "It's getting cold. Why don't we go in?"

The truth snapped on like a light. Anthony assumed she would lose. He would stand by to offer his advice, maybe question a witness or two, but he wasn't about to scuff his shoes by walking the same rocky path that she, against his wishes, had chosen to take.
Let this be a lesson to you,
bonboncita.
Listen to me next time.

With his hand still caressing her cheek, Gail wondered what would happen to them if they woke up one day, married, and the distance between them had not narrowed but widened? Would Anthony give her a reassuring pat as he walked out? Or fail to see it at all and wonder what she was complaining about?

She pushed these thoughts aside. If that day ever happened she would deal with it, but not now. She took his hand and kissed his palm. "I love you, Anthony."

He put his arm around her and they turned toward the hotel.

DEATH WARRANT

STATE OF FLORIDA

WHEREAS, KENNETH RAY CLARK did on the 6th day of February, 1989 murder Amber Lynn Dodson; and

WHEREAS, KENNETH RAY CLARK was found guilty of murder in the first degree and was sentenced to death on the 31st day of January, 1990; and

WHEREAS, on the 20th day of November, 1990 the Florida Supreme Court upheld the sentence of death upon KENNETH RAY CLARK and Certiorari to the United States Supreme Court was denied on the 29th day of December, 2000; and

WHEREAS, It has been determined that Executive Clemency, as authorized by Article IV, Section 8(a), Florida Constitution, is not appropriate; and

WHEREAS, attached hereto is a copy of the record pursuant to Section 922.09, Florida Statutes;

NOW THEREFORE, I, WILLIAM D. WARD, as Governor of the State of Florida and pursuant to the authority and responsibility vested by the Constitution and Laws of Florida do hereby Issue this warrant directing the Warden of the Florida State Prison to cause the sentence of death to be executed upon KENNETH RAY CLARK, in accordance with the provisions of the laws of the State of Florida.

IN TESTIMONY WHEROF, I have

hereunto set my hand and

caused the Great Seal of the

State of Florida to be affixed

at Tallahassee, the Capitol,

this
12th
day of March, 2001.

William D. Ward

GOVENOR

ATTEST:

Majorie A. Meyer

SECRETARY OF STATE

CHAPTER 11

Monday, March 12

Biscayne Academy was closed for a teacher planning day, so Gail brought Karen along to the office with her. She turned her over to her secretary, Miriam, who put her at the extra desk and gave her a stack of folders and color-coded labels. After that, there were copies to make and papers to file. At eleven, Karen was remarkably thorough and quick. With no client appointments today, Gail planned to catch up on some work she had let slip, starting with complaints in two auto-accident cases.

The list of paragraphs from a standard complaint scrolled across her computer monitor. She hated personal injury law but couldn't afford to be picky. Recently she and two of her friends in the building had been discussing a partnership. The idea was beginning to appeal to her.

The door swung open and Karen came in with her hands behind her back.

"Miraculo change-o. I now present you with ... your
lunch
. Ta-dahhh."