Trial and Terror (11 page)

Now she was on a site labeled
Summer’s Big Secrets
. Ringing the edge of the screen were miniature banners, actual documents, certificates, letters, news stories—all details obscured.

Choose one. Summer clicked on an official-looking document affixed with the icon “Sonia’s Crime,” and the screen flowered.

But instead of answers, more questions.

What time of day were you accosted?

Summer crashed her fist into the keyboard.
gbmgyg
, the screen read.

Data error.

Fuck you, Marsalis.
She hit “return.”

Data error. One more incorrect answer and this session will be terminated
.

Summer couldn’t face not knowing about Sonia. What crime? Was this the reason her mother had vanished? Shaking from the cold and the fact that Marsalis had her psyche on the rack, Summer typed,
Dusk
.

The weapon?

A knife, lodged under my chin.

From which direction did the attacker approach?

Behind.

What did he do next?

Why are you doing this to me?

Data error.

He forced me inside.

Then?

He wrapped duct tape around my face so I couldn’t identify him.

What did he do next?

He beat me, and tied my hands up with more tape.

Then?

Sliced off my clothes with the knife.

What else?

He heated the blade of the knife on the stove and burned my back.

Did you beg him to stop?

Yes.

What did he do next?

Summer yanked at her hair. She didn’t know how much more she could take.

Unless you respond within 10 seconds, this session will be terminated. 9-8-7-6-5-

He raped me, OK?

Did it hurt?

She had worked so hard to blot out these memories. She stood up, walked away. When she looked back at the screen, the count was on.
4-3-2-

She typed:
Yes, it hurt.

When he was done, what did he do?

Summer was beyond pain now.
He urinated on me.

Then what?

He doused me with bathroom cleaner, to mask the urine in case the crime lab tried to analyze it.

Before he left, what did he say?

“Don’t worry, bitch, I used a condom.”

And?

Told me he should have cut me up.

Were you lucky?

I’m still alive.

But inside you died just a little bit?

You’re a bastard, Marsalis.

Data error.

When her time was almost up and everything she’d just gone through might be for naught, she gave in.
Yes
.

She was trembling. The memory of the rape tearing her up inside, the pain, humiliation, all of it pushed into the front of her mind. A tear dripped on the keyboard.

The screen grew into full-frame. “Congratulations, Summer!” Marsalis’s recorded voice. “Your reward for successfully completing this examination is information. What you choose to do with it is entirely your affair.”

A death certificate for a four-year old child hovered in the middle of the screen. Her eyes settled on the name.

Summer Neuwirth.

Part III

UNREASONABLE DOUBTS

Chapter 13

Summer was in the office
early, breakfast having consisted of a gin-soaked olive. Levi was already there, in the computer room. Summer peered over his shoulder. He was surfing the net. Summer could barely watch.

Levi glanced up, then immediately looked away. “You look like hell.”

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping,” she said. “What’re you looking for?”

“Information on the appeals process for death penalty cases. I want to make sure I have updated information.”

“SK may thank you for this.”

Levi shrugged. When he clicked, the screen froze. “Shit. That’s the third time. Must be all the pirated software we run. I half-expect the D.A. to bust down the door and indict us all.”

Levi shut the machine off and rebooted. “I’d tell you to go home and get some sleep, but since we’re so short-staffed, how about a Tic Tac?”

“No, thanks.”

“What’s the latest on SK?”

“Get this,” Summer said. “Gundy’s place was wired for surveillance. Raines told me the cops found hidden cameras all over the place hooked up to a computer.”

“Hmm. Well, don’t sweat it until we know for sure it’s not Gundy’s private porn habit run amok.” Levi chewed on his pinky nail. “I have some news that should cheer you up. I got SK moved to a new cell. Five-fucking-stars, compared to the last one.”

Summer smiled and took a seat. “Is it our anniversary?”

“Let’s just say the warden’s son got into trouble once and I helped smooth things,” Levi said in his usual off-handed way. “But there was a tradeoff. You won’t be able to visit SK in her cell; it’ll have to be between glass. He can’t look like he’s backing down because of political pressure, so he’s by the book on this one.”

“I’m sure SK won’t mind. What do you think of Hightower being assigned the case?”

“I’d say that next to Judge Kelly, it was the last thing you wanted. But not a lot we could have done about it.”

“Raines wins either way.”

“Yeah, but all’s not lost. Hightower’s up for re-election, and guess who’s running against him in the primary?”

“Raines?”

Levi slapped the side of the monitor and it flashed to life. “How’d you know? It’s been a more tightly kept secret than Coke’s formula.”

“Tai told me.”

Levi grinned. “I must say, he has his ear to the ground. Anyway, I’m sure they’ll both pander shamelessly to the media, but they’ll also be on their best behavior. If you make a motion, you can be sure Hightower will ponder it rather than rejecting it out of hand just because it comes from the defense.”

“Maybe.” The thought of doing battle with Raines in Hightower’s court brought on a surge of adrenaline. She dropped her files and books on the floor, and suddenly felt a razor-sharp pain on her finger. She was bleeding. “Shit. A paper cut,” she said, sticking her finger in her mouth.

“Band-Aids are in my desk,” Levi said, getting back to the computer.

Holding her finger aloft, Summer went into Levi’s office and sifted through his desk drawer. After wrapping her finger up and stanching the blood flow, she noticed a stack of photos rubber banded together, the top one of the office Christmas party: Summer, Rosie, and Levi, drunk and red-eyed from the flash, falling over, arms around one another’s shoulders.

The memory made her sad.

Chapter 14

Summer was facing SK,
plexiglass between them. She picked up the phone. SK followed suit. They stared at each other, static over the line. Summer could hear other jailhouse conversations, other languages, around her.

“You’re welcome for getting you a new cell,” Summer said finally.

SK remained quiet, her angry eyes locked on Summer.

Summer continued, “I haven’t received any notification, so I assume you haven’t tried to Marsden me yet.”

“You said it yourself,” SK said. “Even if I did try to Marsden you, it’s nearly impossible to remove an attorney.”

“Then let’s get down to business.” Summer wrestled with the urge to make a clean break. Speaking through pursed lips, she said, “I’m curious about the boot. How did glass and blood get on it?”

“I’ve been wondering that myself.”

“What happened during the search of your residence?”

“I’m not sure. I got home in the middle of it.”

“How many cops were there?”

“About half a dozen.”

“Were they paired up or working solo?”

“Some solo, some in teams.”

“What about Detective Tyler?”

“I don’t now. Fifteen minutes after I walked in, he told me I was under arrest for the murder of Harold Gundy.”

“And you just bolted?”

“I panicked,” SK said defensively. “I saw an open window and jumped through. Then I just ran.”

“The boots, they
are
yours, right?”

“Yes.”

“You told me you dropped off the pictures of your late husband at Gundy’s. When?”

“The afternoon he was murdered.”

Summer covered her mouth with her hand, then removed it. “That could account for your fingerprints on the outside of the door and on the pictures. But if the D.A. shows you visited Gundy’s the day he was murdered, a jury is likely to convict you.”

“Not if I take the stand and explain.”

Summer shook her head. “You have priors for prostitution. That would be big trouble if you testify.”

SK cocked her head. “I thought they weren’t allowed to bring up convictions for crimes not related to the one you’re being tried for.”

“Except these are what they call ‘crimes of moral turpitude.’ You get on the stand, the D.A. will roast you alive.”

“I’m taking the stand.”

“We’ll talk about it later.” Summer knew when to duck. “I’ll find a way to make sure the jury hears about all the wonderful things you’ve done for the community, the childcare center, rape-crisis hot line, the hostel for battered women—”

“But not the dojo?”

“Oh, I’m sure the D.A. will mention that.”

“How do you think I paid for it all?” SK said edgily. “From working as a stripper and a prostitute. I figured the way to bury my sins was to improve the plight of women.”

“I’m curious. What made you change?”

SK drew her hair into a ponytail and knotted it to get it out of her eyes. “Business was great for a while, and I was making a ton of money, but then the Haze County cops ran me out of town. Then in New York I was raped. And the cops’ view was like, Hey, you’re a fucking whore, so if some guy goes for a little bonus nookie, why not?”

Summer flashed to her own rape.

“I didn’t see him until it was too late,” SK continued. “He pulled a gun on me right outside my building, told me to take him past the doorman and up to my apartment. He terrorized me for eight hours. I thought he was going to kill me.”

Summer peered through the barrier at SK, separated by glass and years but not experiences. “That’s the worst part,” Summer said distantly. “Not knowing whether he’s going to kill you or not. Afterward, I wondered if I would have been better off if he had. These bastards use sex as a weapon, they take away our security. I thought of killing myself after—”

SK was staring.

Summer dropped the phone. It clattered. Trying not to totally fall apart, she ran out of the room, didn’t stop until she had gotten to the prison parking lot, where she picked up her truck and gunned it to the office.

Safely inside, her door shut, she murmured, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” in a mantra. She had blown it. SK would never retain a lawyer who couldn’t keep herself together. She wondered why she didn’t feel relieved.

Rosie opened the door, then knocked. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Summer said. “Been one of those kinds of days.”

Rosie laughed. “Usually I’m the one losing her shit.”

Summer needed Rosie, needed to lean on her, but was afraid to put herself out on a limb.

Rosie kept her distance, staying in the hall. “Are you all right?”

Summer wanted to let it all pour out, but knew if she did, she would never be able to put it back. “I’m OK. Thanks.”

“Good, good. Listen, one of my clients, a prostitute, was busted for possession and intent to sell. She said to give this to SK’s attorney. That’s you, right?” Rosie handed her an envelope.

Summer resisted the urge to tell Rosie to keep it for herself—or pass it on to Brockton. “What’s a B-girl want with me?”

“She didn’t say.”

“What’s her name?”

“Melba Ignacio.”

It didn’t strike a chord.

“Can I ask you something, Rosie?”

“Maybe.”

As in, not if it has to do with us
, Summer realized.
Fine
. “What do you know about Tai Sanborn?”