Chapter 74
The minute Reese’s eyes meet mine in the courtroom I know that he’s on a mission and everyone that stands in his way is going to feel the pain. The chaos has come together as a perfect storm, and for Reese, that isn’t more chaos. He has this incredible way of centering himself and focusing, that I’ve seen in actions, but never with this much weight on his shoulders. I’m in awe and I prepare for what I know will be a dynamic day in court. I’m actually impatient as the jury and judge take their places, eager to get started and it starts with a bang.
The prosecution is now up, and Milton Wicker, the lead prosecutor, who in a blue suit and looking rather gaunt today, remains in control. His first order of business is to cast Reese’s table a dramatic stare before he calls Officer Marks; a tall, fit, fifty-something officer with salt and pepper hair who’d responded to the crime scene to the stand. Milton proceeds to go through a series of useless questions that all center around Dana’s behavior when she discovered her father dead. “Did Ms. Warren cry?”
“No, she did not,” Officer Marks replies.
“Did she appear to grieve in any other way?”
“No, she did not.”
I expect Reese to object but he doesn’t, which means he has a plan, and he’s letting the prosecutor walk into a trap. This questioning drags out and presents absolutely no evidence that Dana killed her father. It’s all about making her look like a spoiled rich daughter who was after her father’s money. Finally, it’s Reese’s turn to question the officer.
He stands up and approaches the stand. “First, thank you for your service, Officer Marks. Our men in blue are underappreciated.”
Officer Marks’ eyes light with appreciation. “It’s my honor to serve the fine citizens of New York City.”
“How long have you been on the force?”
“Twenty-one years,” the officer states.
“Ask and answered previously,” the prosecutor yells out.
“I have a short memory,” Reese replies, but he moves on.
“How many death investigations, murder or otherwise, have you investigated?”
“Fifty-one if you include non-criminal acts such as accidents and natural causes.”
“That’s a large number,” Reese comments. “How many loved ones, spouses, daughters, sons, and significant family members and friends of those people did you interact with?”
“Hundreds.”
“Of those hundreds, how many were deeply connected to one of the deceased?” Reese asks.
“All of them.”
“How many of those people, when told they’d lost someone close to them, cried?” Reese asks.
“Roughly seventy percent,” Officer Marks replies.
“In other words, if you talked to three hundred people, at least ninety of them didn’t cry.”
“Correct,” Officer Marks says.
“Did you find this strange?” Reese asks.
“Objection,” the prosecutor shouts. “Leading the witness and speculation.”
“I’ll rephrase,” Reese says. “Is it true, officer, that you’ve been trained to observe and expect certain physiological reactions from individuals involved in death investigations?”
“Yes.”
“How many hours?”
“It’s ongoing,” Officer Marks replies. “Hundreds of hours. Our training is constantly on repeat. It’s impossible to log the number of hours.”
“Hundreds of hours,” Reese repeats. “And based on this training, what is a normal reaction to grief?”
“There’s a wide range of normal reactions.”
“Is it normal to cry?”
“Yes,” Officer Marks replies.
“Is it normal not to cry?” Reese asks.
“Yes,” he answers again.
“Why is this a normal reaction?”
“Shock is a key factor,” Officer Marks explains. “They aren’t fully processing the death to be real. The body often shuts down to protect us from what we can’t handle. It’s survival.”
“How many homicides have you investigated?” Reese asks.
“Twenty.”
“During those investigations, did you have close family members demonstrate this type of shock?”
“Yes,” Officer Marks replies.
“Of those people who went into shock and shut down, how many of those were guilty of the crimes?”
“Ten percent.”
“Ten percent. In other words, another ninety percent of those close to the victims who did not cry were not responsible for the homicide?”
“Correct.”
“How many of the people who cried when they were given news of the death were responsible for the homicides?”
“I would say at least forty percent.”
“Thank you,” Reese says. “I’m done with the witness.”
Milton stands up. “Redirect, your honor?”
The judge nods and Milton turns to the officer once more, “Did Ms. Warren give you any other reason, outside of her emotional withdrawal, to suspect her guilt?”
“She was confused about where she’d been during certain hours,” Officer Marks states. “We needed a solid alibi and at the time she didn’t give me one.”
The prosecutor sits down. Reese stands up. “Judge? Two more questions?”
“One, counselor.”
Reese doesn’t argue. He focuses on the officer. “Is it normal to be confused when you are in shock?” Reese asks.
“Yes,” Officer Marks replies.
I let out a breath. Reese nailed that witness and the morning passes with Reese wiping the floor with the prosecutor over and over. Finally, the last witness before the break: Martha. The secretary. She approaches the stand, a pretty brunette not much older than forty, if that. Milton, the prosecutor starts out hard and fast. “How long did you work for the deceased?”
“Three years.”
“How many times did you hear Ms. Warren say she hated her father in that time?”
“At least half a dozen.”
“When was the last time you heard Ms. Warren say that she hated her father?”
“The day before Mr. Warren died,” Martha states.
“Who was she speaking to?”
“Him. She came to the office and shouted it at him.”
“How did he react?” Wicker asks.
“He shut his door. He didn’t come out for hours. That’s how he handled stress.”
The softball questions that all aim to make Dana look like a spoiled brat go on for forty minutes. Finally, again, Reese approaches and he wastes no time digging in. “Did you ever sleep with Mr. Warren?”
Her eyes go wide and Milton stands up. “Objection. Relevance?”
Reese looks at him and arches a brow. “You don’t know what this witness having a personal relationship with the deceased has to do with this?”
The judge gavels his desk to death. “Enough.”
“Judge, I’ll get to the point quickly.”
“You better,” he says.
Reese refocuses on Martha. “Did you have a sexual relationship with the deceased, Mr. Warren?”
“I did not,” she lies.
“You do know you’re under oath, correct?” Reese asks.
“Yes. Of course.”
“Did you ever take intimate photos with the deceased without any clothes on?”
Milton pops to his feet to object and the courtroom erupts in murmurs that has the judge pounding away again. “Recess until one-thirty, and counselors, to my office.”
“Judge, I’d like to request the current witness return to the stand after recess.”
“Granted.”
I smile. She lied. That’s not good for the prosecutor. Reese walks back to his table and when his eyes find mine in the crowd, he doesn’t wink, but he doesn’t have to. I know my husband. He just got exactly what he wanted.
I walk into the judge’s chamber with Milton already up in arms. “What the hell was that, judge?” He looks at me. “What the hell was that?”
“She lied.” I hand the judge the envelope Royce gave me. “That won’t be admissible into evidence, but she lied.”
He opens it and looks inside, his expression tightening as he does. He looks at me. “How did you get this?”
“Walker Security,” I say. “They frequently work with law enforcement and are highly respected.”
“What is it?” Milton asks, sounding irritated.
The judge settles his glasses on his nose and looks over at him. “Naked pictures of your last witness with the deceased. I won’t allow those photos into evidence, but I’ll send her to jail. I don’t tolerate lies under oath in my courtroom.”
He doesn’t offer to let Milton see the photos. He hands them back to me and I look at Milton. “Lies is what the entire prosecution is all about.”
“Says the man defending a killer,” Milton snaps, his face pinched with anger. “Do I get to see the photos, judge?”
“You’ll have to trust me,” he says. “She’s naked. I don’t run a girly show here. I assure you I can validate what I saw.”
“Seems to me your witness, who was taking naked photos with her boss, the focus of this trial, has something to hide,” I say.
“Your client is the one who has something to hide.”
I don’t even consider outing his text messages with Dana’s boyfriend. Not yet, but I will I have to end this trial and get my wife out of town soon. “Did you know about Martha banging Mr. Warren when you charged Dana or did you even do an investigation?”
“Enough,” the judge says. “Martha will be taken into custody when the court reconvenes.”
“I need an afternoon recess, judge,” Milton says. “Please, I need to talk to my team.”
The judge gives him a keen look. “I suspect you do and I’m going to grant your recess for one reason: I don’t want another lie in my courtroom. We’ll reconvene at one-thirty when the witness will stand before me and be arrested for lying. After which, we will recess.” He waves us away.
I exit to the exterior of the office and text Cat: I need you. Have Savage bring you back here. I exit to the hallway and as soon as I’m in my team’s private hallway, Richard and Elsa are on top of me. “The judge is having her arrested at one-thirty. After which, we recess. Go drill Dana about Martha. I need to see my wife.”
I walk around them and head for the end of the hallway to wait on Cat and Savage. The minute Cat rounds the corner, I pull her to me and kiss her. “That was incredible,” she says.
“We need to talk,” I say, lacing my fingers with hers and leading her toward a private office.