Chapter Nine
Reggie dropped Brooke off at the door to the courthouse before parking her Jeep in the garage. She’d stayed up all night thinking about the threats Brooke had received and wondering what they were going to do about them because doing nothing wasn’t an option. Over coffee, she’d gently encouraged Brooke to take the notes to the police, but Brooke had vehemently stated there was no way she was going to risk that move.
They’d had a lively conversation about the subject all the way to the courthouse. Brooke kept pointing out that if she’d simply followed the instructions she’d been given and not been talking to her outside of court, Ben and his friend Mia wouldn’t have been in danger. No matter how hard she tried, Reggie couldn’t get her to see that whoever was threatening her wasn’t going to stop no matter what she did to comply. Anyone who would threaten a child had no moral compass and there was nothing to prevent them from taking further action. Brooke had remained unswayed.
Which meant she’d have to act on her own and she knew exactly where to start.
She started by calling Leroy and telling him she had an emergency this morning and she would be about an hour late. He groused, but he’d known her a long time and took her at her word. She felt a little guilty about that, but not guilty enough to change her course. Next she sent a text to Lennox. Need an emergency consult. You, Judge A, Skye. Off campus. Name the place.
She set the phone down and waited. A full, agonizing minute later, Lennox texted her back. Riverside Diner. See you in ten.
She started the Jeep and headed to the diner which was less than a quarter mile from the courthouse. It would be packed by lunchtime, but at this time of day, most of its clientele were already at the courthouse deep into the morning docket. She drove around the parking lot three times to make sure she didn’t spot anyone suspicious, and finally deciding it was safe, she parked her Jeep and headed inside setting up at a booth with a full view of the parking lot.
“Coffee, hun?”
She didn’t recognize the waitress, but she looked like all the others who worked here—mid-fifties, pen nestled in a big bun, notepad at the ready. She turned over the mug on the table. “Yes, please. Black. I’m waiting on some people.”
While the waitress fetched her coffee, Reggie scoped out the place. Besides a woman with a baby sitting across the room, she was the only one there. Her phone pinged with a text.
Where are you? The bailiff said you had an emergency.
She wanted to answer Brooke, but there was nothing she could safely say in a text to her to explain her absence and a lie could get them both in trouble, so she stowed her phone in her pocket and hoped she’d have some answers by the time she saw Brooke again.
A minute later Lennox, followed by Wren, Skye, Judge Aguilar, and her girlfriend, Franco burst through the door. The waitress appeared with a pot of coffee at the same time they reached her table.
“These your people?” she asked. Reggie nodded. “Then you’re going to need a bigger table.” She motioned for the group to follow her to the other end of the restaurant, even farther from the other occupied table and she pointed at a large booth. “That should do. Menu’s on the table.” She poured coffee for everyone who wanted it and hustled back to the kitchen.
“I see you brought reinforcements,” Reggie said to Lennox.
“You said it was an emergency. This is the best group of folks I know when it comes to emergencies. What’s up?”
Reggie took a deep breath. It was one thing to think about enlisting her friends’ help, but it was entirely different now that they were sitting in front of her waiting to hear what she needed and why. Whatever she said next, she was breaking her promise to Brooke to keep her secret, but surely Brooke had known she wouldn’t be able to sit by and do nothing. It was a risk she had to take. “Let’s start with a hypothetical. Say a juror is being intimidated to vote a certain way and also influence other jurors to do the same.”
“You should report it,” Lennox said.
“It’s not me.”
“Doesn’t matter. If you know about it, you should report it to the judge.”
“Okay.” Reggie drew out the word. “Now, let’s say that the juror has received a threat against a family member if the juror doesn’t comply.”
“Same,” Lennox said, folding her arms across her chest as if the matter was closed.
“Wait,” Wren said, placing a hand on Lennox’s shoulder. “Take a breath, Crime Crusader. Reggie’s right, the threat changes things. Reggie, tell us more about these threats.”
“Altered voice on the phone, cards with serial killer style notes delivered to the juror’s house or left in the juror’s belongings.”
“That definitely makes it more complicated,” Wren said. “And this juror, they think the threats are real?”
Reggie shook her head. “Absolutely. With good reason. The family member who was threatened wound up in a car wreck with a hit-and-run driver last night that didn’t sound much like an accident.”
“Are you okay?” Judge Aguilar asked. “Are you the juror?”
Reggie shook her head. “I swear it’s not me. I’m fine.” She paused. “There’s another thing.” She waited until she had their rapt attention. “They started getting the threats before they showed up for jury duty. Right after they got the summons.”
“So, someone knew they’d been selected to be on the panel,” Nina said. “That narrows it down a bit, but there are still quite a few people who might have access to the list of people who’d received a summons for any given day.”
“True, but how would they have any way of knowing they’d get called to Hunt’s court and actually make the cut?” Wren asked.
“That’s the thing,” Reggie said. “They didn’t. Not at first.” She described how Mr. Rodriguez had collapsed on his way to the jury box, opening the last spot for Brooke, and as she recounted the story, her heart started pumping as her blood pressure started to rise.
“You think someone tried to take out a juror to give them a spot?” Lennox asked. “That’s pretty ballsy and a huge risk. How would they have known she’d be next in line? It’s almost like someone had to be in the room, calling the shots as it went down.”
They all sat in silence for a moment, digesting Lennox’s words. Reggie had been turning the same thought over and over in her head since Brooke had told her everything the night before, but no matter how many times she went over it, she couldn’t come up with how someone had made it happen.
“New question,” Franco said, waving her hand in the air. “Does this juror have any idea why they were singled out, assuming they are the only one being intimidated on this particular jury?”
“They don’t, but I have a theory.” Reggie hesitated for a moment and then decided to go ahead and say what she knew. “Single parent, trying to finish a degree while working a full-time job. More vulnerable than most. When their kid is threatened, they didn’t have anyone close to turn to, so it’s easier to comply.”
“Makes sense,” Judge Aguilar said. “This person is on the same jury as you?”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Well, that’s kind of why I asked you all here. I’m not sure what to do. I don’t want to put them in danger, but I know this has to be reported. Does me telling you count?”
Nina laughed. “Nice try. You’re in the middle of a trial and both sides have a right to know if the other is tampering with the jury. You’re going to have to tell the judge.”
“Wait a minute,” Skye said. “Wouldn’t it be better if you caught whoever this is in the act? What if you let the trial keep going and lay a trap? The trial’s going to end up in a mistrial anyway. What’s a few more days so you have a chance to heap on bigger charges?” She turned to Lennox. “Can’t the DA’s office run an investigation without anyone knowing about it?”
“It’s complicated. Someone could say we did it to tank this particular case. We could report it to law enforcement and let them lay the trap.” She turned to Nina. “Judicial opinion, please?”
“You’re right,” Nina said. “It is complicated. Judge me says you should report it to Judge Hunt right away, but former prosecutor me knows that’s going to result in a mistrial and the offender might never be caught. Lennox, what if you call the local FBI office to see if they can put someone on it—that way it’s as far removed from your office as possible?”
Lennox nodded. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”
“Hold up.” Reggie leaned forward. “I invited you all here for advice not to sit back and watch this turn into a federal agent shit show. Besides, she was specifically told not to contact law enforcement. What happens when whoever’s watching her finds out the freaking FBI is on the scene?” She shook a fist to emphasize her point, but her friends merely stared at her in silence. “What?”
Lennox was the first to speak. “‘Her’?”
Damn. She’d let the pronoun slip. She kept her mouth shut to avoid revealing more.
“Are you sure it’s not you,” Nina asked, her eyes narrowed with skepticism.
“A million percent. Can we focus on the ‘in danger’ part of the equation, please?”
“You like her, don’t you?”
“Knock it off, Lennox.” Reggie said the words with a low growl.
“I get it,” Lennox said as she put her hand on Wren’s. “Now fess up that you like her and we’ll move mountains to keep her safe.”
She hadn’t called the posse here to bail out a girlfriend and this conversation was taking a turn she hadn’t prepared for. She’d come here looking for help for a fellow human being who was in trouble, not for the personal gain that would come from helping someone she was crushing on because she definitely wasn’t crushing on Brooke. Not even.
Well, maybe just a little bit.
It was kind of hard not to.
Still, she wasn’t about to admit that to Lennox or anyone else seated around this table. “Look, do you want to help me out or not?”
Lennox let loose a heavy sigh. “Of course. Look, it’s classic bad guy to say ‘don’t involve the police,’ but that rarely means they’ll do anything about it or even know the cops are involved. I worked on a task force case last year with an FBI agent who knows her way around. What if I reach out to her and see if she has any ideas?”
“I want to be there when you talk to her,” Reggie said, thinking she could hang on to some modicum of control if she was in the room.
“Wouldn’t want it any other way. I’ll see if I can set something up tonight.”
Reggie turned to Nina. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?” She looked at her watch. “I sent Leroy a text this morning to tell him I was running late, but there’s only so long he can hold the judge off from tossing me in the holdover. I should get back.” She left unsaid the reason, which was to keep watch over Brooke, but she could tell from the looks she was getting that the others knew exactly why she wanted to get back.
Nina made a shooing motion. “Go. Lennox will call you later and if you get any flack about being late from Hunt, let me know and I’ll handle it.”
Reggie slid out of the booth. “Thanks, guys. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” As she walked to the door, a deep feeling of loss settled over her. When this trial was over and she was no longer at the courthouse every day, she’d likely lose touch with these folks. Who would she turn to then?
* * *
Brooke looked up at the sound of the door opening, but like the dozen other times this morning, there was no Reggie in sight. Where was she? Reggie had dropped her at the courthouse and promptly disappeared.
She’d spotted Leroy, the bailiff, in a whispered conversation with the judge before he’d let them know that they would be starting late this morning due to “other matters before the court,” but she couldn’t help but wonder if Reggie’s absence was the cause for the delay.
“Where’s your friend?”
She turned to find Mark standing behind her. “Who?” she asked even though she knew exactly who he meant.
“The woman who acts like a cop and used to work here at the courthouse. I think she likes you.”
His words were delivered in a monotone recitation without a drop of judgmental inflection, but Brooke felt seen and it was pretty uncomfortable. She looked around the room, wondering if anyone else had heard Mark’s remarks, but he beat her to the punch.
“I don’t think anyone else notices,” he said. “Your other friends are focused on themselves.”
Again, there was no judgment in his tone, but Brooke instantly knew he was talking about Jennifer and Lisa and she choked back a laugh. “Anyone ever tell you you’re really observant?”
“Yes, but they don’t usually mean it as a compliment. Do you?”
“I do.” Brooke smiled to emphasize her point. “It’s always the quiet ones.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “What else have you noticed?”
It was his turn to look around, before leaning in to whisper back. “I think you’re worried about something. Are you okay?”
She’d expected him to share some revelation about the players in the trial or one of the other jurors, but the pointed observation about her own behavior took her off guard. “Uh, yes, of course,” she replied, wondering if Mark was also a deft lie detector. “Guess I’m just like everyone else—I have other things I need to be doing.”
He hunched his shoulders. “Not me. I work at the most boring job ever. This is the most interesting thing I’ve done in a while even if the pay sucks.”
She fished through her memories of jury selection. “You work in IT.”
He sighed. “I work a customer service line for people who can’t figure out their computers. I spend most of my time telling people to turn it off and turn it back on. Not much in the way of intellectually challenging.” He pointed to the coffee maker on the counter. “At least here I get free coffee.”
“True.” She hefted the mug she’d filled when she arrived. “Free coffee is not to be scoffed at.”
“Do you think she’s going to show up? Your friend, I mean.”
His focus on Reggie unnerved her and she wasn’t sure why since she was singularly focused on Reggie herself. “I don’t know.”
“She could be in big trouble if she doesn’t.”
Brooke resisted looking at her phone. If Reggie had texted or called, it would’ve buzzed in her hand. The silence was telling, but she wasn’t entirely sure she understood the message. Frankly, she was starting to get worried. Had whoever been watching her decided Reggie was a threat?
As if in answer to her question, the door to the jury room opened again and Reggie walked into the room. She was smiling and strolling and seemed utterly unconcerned about the fact she was an hour late. She was two steps away and Brooke was still scrambling for something to say, but she needn’t have worried because Reggie walked right on by and struck up a conversation with Jennifer and Lisa who greeted her like they were long-lost friends. Brooke continued to stare and, at one point, Reggie met her eyes and quickly glanced away, her expression unreadable. She hadn’t imagined that, had she?
“She’s back.”
Mark’s observation dropped like a rock. Yes, Reggie was back, but something was different; something was off from their easy back-and-forth this morning. This Reggie wasn’t the same person she’d ridden to the courthouse with this morning or the one who’d comforted Ben at the hospital, or her at her house. This version acted like she didn’t exist.
She was trying to decide between ignoring Reggie too or confronting her when Leroy appeared at the door.
“Judge’s ready for y’all. And he asked me to make sure you know that we’re on a tight schedule for the rest of the day. Everybody make sure to come back from breaks on time.”
He glanced at Reggie and squinted like he was tossing emphasis her way. Brooke followed his gaze, and for a brief second Reggie smiled, but she wasn’t certain if the friendly overture was for her or merely in response to Leroy’s gentle admonition, and with a busy day ahead, she doubted she was going to find out anytime soon.
The first witness of the day was another one of Shirley Mitchell’s business acquaintances. The prosecutor spent a lot of time trying to get him to say Shirley had tried to get him involved in a scheme with her, but he never quite went there and kept throwing uncomfortable glances in Shirley’s direction as if to say, “what have you gotten us involved in?” Brooke was laser-focused on his behavior and couldn’t help but wonder if he was under the same kind of pressure she was. Rigley finally passed the witness and sat down, visibly frustrated at the lack of cooperation from a witness he’d chosen to call to the stand.
Leland took her time starting her cross-examination, spending a few moments staring at a piece of paper in front of her like it contained the secrets of the universe. When she finally looked up at the witness, her expression was almost feral. “You look uncomfortable to be sitting there, Mr. Ross.”
Ross bit his lip and looked down.
“Nothing to say?” Leland taunted him. “Wait. Let me rephrase that. Why do you look so uncomfortable, Mr. Ross?”
This time he straightened his shoulders and looked directly at her. Brooke flinched inwardly at the daggers in his eyes and held her breath for his answer, but after a moment, his bravado deflated, and he looked down at his hands.
“I’m not,” he said.
“Okay, then.” Again with the exaggerated smile. “Let’s get to it.” Leland picked up the paper she’d been studying. “How many deals have you done with Ms. Mitchell over the past ten years?”
He shrugged. “I’d have to consult my records to determine the exact amount.”
“More than five?”
“Probably.”
“More than ten?”
He shifted in his seat again. “I’m not sure of the exact amount.”
“So somewhere between five and so many that you can’t remember the amount.”
Rigley shot out of his seat. “Objection, Judge. Defense counsel is testifying.”
Brooke stared at Leland who raised her hands in surrender. “I withdraw the question.” She turned to look at the jury and rolled her eyes. “Mr. Ross, did the prosecutors meet with you to prepare for your testimony here at trial?”
Again with the shifting. “We talked so they could give me a general idea of what to expect.”
“And they asked you questions, asked you about your interactions with Ms. Mitchell?”
“Sure, but—”
“Is it your testimony that no one in the DA’s office asked you how many deals you’ve done with Ms. Mitchell?”
His eyes darted around the room, but there was no escape from the cage of her questions. He shot a quick look at the jury before plunging in. “I’m sure they asked. They asked a bunch of things. That doesn’t mean I remember every little thing or the answer I gave.”
“Makes perfect sense,” Leland said. “You’d have to check your records, like you said.”
“Yes, that’s right.” He relaxed back into his chair looking relieved that Leland finally got him.
Leland reached into a briefcase sitting next to her chair and pulled out a stack of bound notebooks. She shuffled them into a different order and stood. “Your Honor, may I approach?”
“You may, counselor,” he said.
She was already on the move, dropping a set of bound notebooks on the prosecutor’s table before striding to the witness stand. She handed a set to Ross. “I had a feeling you might need these so I brought them along. Please describe to the jury what I’ve handed to you.”
He took a moment to examine the notebooks. His expression barely changed, but Brooke recognized the tightness in his shoulders and his pale face as signs he knew he was navigating a mine field. She should know. When he finally spoke, the trepidation in his voice was clear.
“There’s a lot to sift through here.”
“Indeed,” Leland said. “But I made sure to organize the files you provided to the ADA.” She pointed at a tab. “The list of cases you worked with Ms. Mitchell is right there. Please read it to the jury.”
The next few moments were painful as Ross reluctantly recounted deal after deal he’d worked with Shirley Mitchell during the last decade, and Brooke had to admit she admired Leland’s technique. If Ross had simply admitted the amount up front, it wouldn’t have had the same impact as his painful recitation. As he droned on, Brooke focused her attention on Shirley Mitchell and wondered how deeply Shirley was involved in the threats she’d received. Voice-changing device or not, she didn’t think this powerful, confident woman had called her on the phone or cut out letters in a magazine to frame a threatening missive, but she had to be aware someone was working to sway the jury on her behalf, right? Was that why she looked so cool, so calm—because she knew her fate and it was freedom?
Ross finally stopped reading and Brooke refocused her attention to the front of the room where Leland was practically salivating.
“I counted twenty-four deals,” Leland said. “Does that sound about right to you?”
“I guess so.” Ross spoke with quiet defeat. Brooke looked over at the prosecutors who looked like they were trying too hard to hide their disappointment, and a nagging question surfaced.
If things were going so well for the defense, then why was she being threatened into swaying the jury to find Shirley Mitchell not guilty?