Chapter 20
Fear and hopelessness of the Nine of Swords prevent you from seeing reality.
CAL
Afew weeks later Laura, Marci, Eagle, and I are in Laura’s conference room. Laura is ‘tweaking’ my defense strategy. She wants to review some new evidence with me.
Eagle pulls a photograph from a manilla folder and slides it across the table to me. “Do you recognize this woman?”
I pick up the photo and wince with recognition. “Of course. It’s Abigail, the woman Paul had an affair with.”
“Also, the woman who filed a restraining order against you when you bashed in the front windshield of her car.” Gee, thanks, Marce. Got any more nails you want to pound into my coffin?
Eagle slides a second photograph toward me. “Do you recognize this woman?”
“Yes, that’s Juliet Morrison.”
“The crazy one!” I press my hand into Marci’s knee to silence her. I want to see where this is going.
Laura puts the two photographs side by side. “See here, the space between the eyes, the height of the forehead? You can change a lot of things appearance-wise. Eye color, hair style and color, hairline even. Shape and size of nose and lips, chin and cheek implants, gaps in teeth.” She takes a pen and marks the photos, “But there are certain things that don’t change, like the shape of the skull and location of the eye sockets.
“It was actually Detective Chan who made this connection. “
“What connection? I don’t understand.”
Laura sends a text on her phone. The door opens and Detective Chan walks in.
I am enraged. “OH. HELL. NO. Get out. How dare you?” I look at Laura. “What is he doing here?”
“Do you need a valium?” Marci and her valium have been coming to my rescue quite a bit since my arrest.
Definitely, but I ignore her.
My conspiracy theory vibe is pinging. Am I being set up? Are my attorney and her ex-husband, the Detective, part of the plot to frame me? So many crazy things have happened in my life over the last month that I don’t think it is beyond the realm of possibility.
“Dr. Cassidy, Cal,” Danny Chan puts his hand gently on my arm. “Let me say right off the bat that I do not believe you killed Paul Davis.”
I eye him with suspicion. Wouldn’t he say that if he and Laura were trying to trick me into confessing?
I pulled my arm away. I am on high alert. I grabbed Marci’s hand under the table and squeezed it. She is the only one in the room I trust.
“I understand you don’t trust me right now but hear me out. We have cleared all other suspects in Paul’s murder except for you.”
Marci comes to my defense. “What about Juliet? That woman is bat-shit crazy.”
Danny ignores Marci’s outburst. “In spite of all the evidence pointing to you, and Detective Bizzell’s insistence that you are guilty, I had a gut feeling that you are innocent and are being framed for Paul’s murder.”
Oh, this guy is good. Buttering me up to get me to trust him and then, boom! He’ll pounce on me and send me away for life. With my attorney’s help.
“When Laura came to me with the information about Juliet, the missing cup, and the scene at Serendipity, I did some digging into her background. My IT guys could not find any evidence of her existence prior to 2019. Eagle investigated Abigail Stewart. There is no trace of Abigail after 2019.
“On a hunch I asked our guys and Eagle to run both photographs through their facial recognition software. They both came to the same conclusion. Juliet is Abigail.”
“How did you even think to compare their photographs? They don’t look anything alike.”
No one said a word.
I look at Eagle. She is studying an interesting cuticle on her thumb. Laura has an indecipherable look on her face. Detective Chan looked defiant.
“Detective Chan? Why did you compare the photographs?”
“As part of the prosecutorial process, I interviewed your clients. Juliet is the only one that had some inconsistencies in her statements. In conjunction with her erratic behavior at the restaurant, and her message to you, I had enough to warrant further investigation into her.”
“You interviewed my clients? How dare you!” I stand up and pace around the room. “My clients have been to hell and back. They have been abused, usually by more than one person—parents, priests, lovers, husbands. My god, one of them was even raped by a policeman.”
I look at Laura. “Did you know about this?” I don’t wait for an answer.
“Do you know what you have done to these women? Their self-esteem is already in the gutter. It takes me at least six months of steady work to earn their trust. I’m just beginning to see a little chink of light in the souls of some of these women. You just destroyed everything I stand for. Everything I worked for. They will never trust me again.”
“Are you finished?” Laura’s voice has no hint of remorse.
“No.” I shake my finger at both Laura and Danny. “You crossed the line. You went behind my back and messed with my life, my reputation, my work, and the lives of women I care about.”
“I’m investigating a murder, Cal. I don’t need your permission to interview anyone in connection with you. All your clients and colleagues were more than willing to speak on your behalf. Everyone defended you. They hold you in the highest regard.
“The only exception was Juliet. She dropped not-so-subtle hints about your emotional instability, your infatuation with Paul and his new wife, and your history of violence with Paul’s previous lover. She mentioned some details about the restraining order and the divorce that weren’t public record. When I asked her how she knew about it she became very combative and defensive.
“Then suddenly, she flipped a switch and reverted to being saccharin sweet, apologizing for sharing those things about you. She assured me you couldn’t have killed Paul because you were with her that night. She was your alibi for the night Paul was killed.”
“This is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t have an alibi for that night. I was home alone working.”
“Juliet claims you spent the night together.”
“I don’t know why she would say that. Wait a minute—like as in—sleeping together?”
My mind is going in a thousand directions at once. I am trying to pull all these tangled threads together and make sense of this madness. I can’t.
I look at Marci. “I’ll take that valium now.”