Chapter 22 #2
“This morning the entire city of Baltimore is praying for a decorated police officer and a fifteen-year-old girl who were attacked while in service to this city.” Chief Noonan paid glowing tribute to the career of the injured police officer. His photo was shown as the chief talked about him.
Juliana gasped when she recognized Scott Brown, the officer who had laughed at Michael’s haircut.
The chief paused for a moment to collect himself.
“I know there will be a quick rush to judgment in this case, but I urge everyone to let the detectives do their jobs. We’ll find the person or persons who perpetrated this crime and we’ll bring them to justice.
I’ll let Mr. Houlihan give his statement, and then we’ll take a few questions. ”
Tom stepped to the microphone. “The witness to the shootings is a brave, spirited, intelligent girl with an amazing zest for life. Every one of us who has worked with her has been forever touched by her amazing courage under the most trying of circumstances. We know that courage and determination will get her through this crisis as well. The hearts and prayers of everyone in my office are with her and her family this morning.”
“Can you give us her name?” a reporter shouted.
“In an effort to protect her and her family from further recrimination, we’ll be maintaining her anonymity,” Tom replied.
Juliana’s heart broke as she watched Michael look down in a failed attempt to hide his anguish.
“We will not rest until justice is served on behalf of these victims.”
Reporters began shouting out questions the moment Tom stepped back from the microphone.
“Chief, how do you know it was arsenic?”
“A variety of common symptoms.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“No.”
“What’s the theory on how the poison was delivered to the victims?”
“We’re checking the room service and take-out delivery logs to see what they ate, when it was delivered, and by whom. We had video cameras in the hallway and the hotel rooms. Those tapes are currently being reviewed.”
“What hospital is the witness in?”
“No comment.”
“Do you have any word on her condition?”
“Her injuries are not considered life threatening.”
“Do you believe the Benedettis are responsible for this attack?”
“No comment.”
“Mr. Houlihan, what’re the odds of a mistrial?”
“We don’t believe there will be a mistrial, but that’ll be up to Judge Stein after he’s heard arguments from both sides.”
“Mr. Maguire, can you comment on your ability to secure a conviction without the witness’s testimony?”
Tom gestured for Michael to take the question. Michael cleared his throat. “I’m hopeful she’ll make a full recovery and be able to testify. We’ll request a continuance until she’s recovered.”
“How well do you know the witness, Mr. Maguire?”
“Very well,” Michael said softly. The room quieted while the reporters waited for him to go on.
Juliana swiped at tears as she watched him struggle to find the words he needed to pay tribute to his young friend.
“She’s a terrific kid. Like Tom said, all of us who’ve worked with her have grown to care for her very much.”
“That’s all for now,” Chief Noonan said. “We’ll keep you informed of any developments.”
The news cut away from the press conference for more in-studio analysis, but Juliana had heard enough.
She turned off the television, put down her coffee cup, and curled up on the sofa, thinking of Rachelle and her Queen Bee T-shirt, her love of fashion, the way her face had lit up when Juliana cut her hair, the story she had told about the night that changed her life forever, her adorable crush on Michael, and her haunting last words to Juliana.
“I think you belong with Michael,” she had said before saying good-bye.
Not her usual “be cool” or “lata, gata.” No, she’d said good-bye, as if she had somehow known that something might happen.
The house phone rang, and Juliana got up to answer it.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Hello?”
“Your boyfriend’s next, Juliana,” the caller said in a raspy voice.
The phone went dead.
Juliana screamed and dropped the phone. She ran for the door, and with shaking fingers she punched in the code to deactivate the alarm. In light of the day’s events, her police detail had moved from across the street to the sidewalk outside the front door.
“Juliana, what is it?”
In a halting voice, Juliana told them about the call. She pleaded with them to find Michael and warn him of the threat. One of the officers reached for his shoulder microphone to report it.
“You’ll tell Michael’s detail?” she asked the officer who escorted her back inside.
“Yes, my partner’s taking care of it.”
“He knew my name,” Juliana whimpered. “They know my name.” She jolted when the phone rang again.
The police officer answered it. “Hello? Yes, she’s right here.” He handed the phone to Juliana. “It’s Mr. Maguire.”
“Juliana,” he said, sounding panic-stricken, “tell me exactly what he said.”
“He said, ‘Your boyfriend’s next, Juliana.’ He knew my name, Michael.”
“I know, baby. I’ll be home in a few minutes.”
“Be careful.” Tears fell from eyes already swollen from crying. “Please be careful.”
“I’ll be right there.”