Chapter 27
“Your Honor, at this time, the prosecution rests.”
Judge Saul didn’t look surprised. The jury did. Beside me, Bennett Cutler did what all defense lawyers do at this stage of the trial. He moved for a directed verdict in his client’s favor. He argued I had not met my burden of proof as a matter of law.
Judge Saul did what most judges do at this stage of a jury trial.
She denied Cutler’s motion. After ruling on several other procedural items, Saul dismissed us for the day.
We would be back here first thing Monday morning where Bennett Cutler would call his first witness for the defense.
I tried not to, but I couldn’t stop myself from looking over at Jamie Simmons.
Without the jury present, he kept a smug look on his face.
If he was scared or nervous, he would never let me see it.
I collected my notes, stuffed them in my briefcase, and left the courthouse. A handful of reporters tried to get me to comment as I made my way to my car.
“No comment,” I said. “You know I’m not going to talk about an ongoing trial.”
They let me go with relatively little protest. Cutler had just walked out of the building. They knew he might be more than willing to throw them a few quotable scraps.
I didn’t want to go back to the office. I didn’t want to go home.
With no real plans as to where I was headed, fifteen minutes later, I found myself pulling into Kenya Spaulding’s driveway.
I hadn’t called ahead. Hadn’t texted her I was coming.
And yet, when I stepped out of my car, Kenya stood in her front door as if she’d been expecting me.
She held a tumbler in one hand, filled with what looked like a mimosa.
“Is it late for that?” I asked. “Or early?”
“Does it matter?” she said, handing it to me. She wore a bright-red kimono, her hair hung long, almost to her waist. If it was possible, the woman looked like she’d grown younger in the year and a half since she left the prosecutor’s office.
I took the drink from her. It tasted perfect, as usual. I followed Kenya out to her solarium at the back of the house. She had a new roommate. A tuxedo cat eyed me from the back of a chair, swishing her tail.
“That’s Ramona,” she said. “She showed up a couple of weeks ago and decided to stay.”
I reached for Ramona and scratched her between the ears. She purred, then leapt off the chair and darted under a potted plant.
“She likes you,” Kenya said.
“I miss you,” I said. “When are you going to cut this out and come back to work?”
Kenya smiled. She draped herself over her chaise lounge, looking like every inch the queen she was.
“When are you going to stop asking me that?”
“We’re a mess, Kenya. I love Hojo. He’s trying his best. But things are falling through the cracks. I’m chasing my tail. And this case? We weren’t ready to go to trial and next week everyone’s going to see why.”
Kenya arched a brow. “Since when have you questioned your own skills like that?”
“It’s not about my skills. I just don’t have enough to get past reasonable doubt.”
“You’re letting Cutler get under your skin. That’s not like you. What’s really going on?”
“I told you. I want you back. So far nobody else has thrown their hat in the ring to run for prosecutor. Hojo doesn’t want it long term.”
“You sure about that?” she asked, sipping her own drink.
“I’m sure. This thing is buckling him. He’s not cut out for it. You are.”
Kenya laughed softly. “Mara, when are you going to cut the crap?”
Her remark startled me. She leveled a hard stare at me. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you. Coming over here. Thinking you’re going to bully me into taking a job I haven’t decided I want anymore. Thinking it’s because the county needs me.”
“We do need you. Plus, it wasn’t fair how things went down in your last election.”
“My last defeat,” she said.
“Water under the bridge. The electorate knows they made a mistake. I told you. You’ll be unopposed. We can just go back to the way things are supposed to be.”
Kenya put her glass down. “Mara, I’ve known you a long time. When are you going to stop lying to yourself?”
“Kenya …”
“You want me to tell you I’m going to run because then it’ll make things easier for you.”
“Easier, yes. But also because you were good at it. You’re the best at it.
We need you. I need you. If you’d been in the corner office, the Luke case could have ripened like it was supposed to.
My hand wouldn’t have been forced. And I wouldn’t be on the verge of losing what might be the biggest, most important murder case this county has ever seen. ”
Kenya gave me that laser stare of hers. The kind that cuts through you. Only the tiniest lift to the corner of her mouth indicated what she was thinking. Then she hit me with it. Both barrels.
“Bullshit,” she said.
“What?”
“Bullshit. If I were in the corner office, I’d have had you take that case to trial now, too.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Not if …”
“Stop. There wasn’t going to be any better evidence against Jamie Simmons.
This is as good as it’s going to get. And it’s damn good.
You know he killed that girl. I know it.
He knows it. And nobody delivers a killer closing argument like you do.
I’m not worried about Bennett Cutler. What I haven’t been able to figure out is why you are. Until now.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not afraid of Cutler.”
“Yes, you are. Well, not so much Cutler. But you’re afraid of losing.”
“Kenya …”
“You never lose.”
“I lose plenty.”
“If you lose this one, then it wasn’t winnable in the first place. No matter who prosecuted it.”
I grumbled. “I hate losing.”
“There she is.” Kenya smiled. “So don’t. But I do have one question.”
“Fire away.”
“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to run for prosecutor?”
“I wish people would stop asking me that. Yes. I’m sure. I like the job I have.”
“You promise it’s not because of Sam?”
“What? No. It’s not because of Sam.”
“Because some people might not like the sheriff dating the prosecutor. Some people might hold it against him at the polls.”
“I know. But I swear, that’s not why I don’t want to run. I really don’t want the job, Kenya.” I put a hand up. “I’m tired of having this conversation. Between my mother, Sam, now you, it’s getting old.”
“Maybe we’re all right. First there was Jason.
He was always running for something. It made sense you wouldn’t want to.
Then there was Will. And granted, he did need more of you than most kids.
But he’s almost fifteen years old. He’s out there, Mara.
In the world. Making his way. To a large extent, your work with him is done.
He’ll always need you. But it’s okay for you to want something more now. ”
“I like what I’m doing,” I said.
“So keep doing it. Nobody ever said you had to stop trying cases if you took the top spot. You don’t have to run the office like I did. And you shouldn’t. But it’s time for you to put your wants and ambitions first.”
I sat back. “I have. I’ll swear it on anything you’d like. I’m where I’m supposed to be. And I’m happy there. It’s your job, Kenya. You belong there. So what, you’re gonna sit here with your cat and your cocktails in the afternoon forever?”
She smiled. “It’s not a bad gig.”
“If you want me to be honest with myself, then you have to do it too.”
She took the last sip of her drink then set the glass on the table next to her. “You’re right.”
“I am?”
“You are. I’m not ready to ride off into the sunset just yet. I just wanted to make sure you really, really don’t want the job.”
Ramona came back. She hopped up on the chaise and settled herself in Kenya’s lap.
“You’re going to run!” I shouted. “You’ve been jerking me around this whole time?”
“Not at all. I wanted to be sure what you wanted.”
“Just tell me what I can do.”
“Well, you can endorse me.”
My head spun a little. I didn’t know if it was the strength of Kenya’s pour or her news.
“And you can tell that boyfriend of yours, I expect his endorsement.” She smiled.
“You sly boots,” I said. “When were you going to tell me all this?”
“Now. You’ve been busy.”
I put my drink down and threw my arms around her. “Thank God.”
“Just do me a favor and keep it to yourself for now.”
She got up, went to the kitchen, and came back with a fresh pitcher of mimosas. She refilled my glass and then her own. She raised her glass and clinked it with mine.
“To new beginnings in the new year. For both of us,” she said.
“That’s worth drinking to.”
“You really think the jury is going to buy Bennett Cutler’s shtick? How’s he planning on explaining the fact his client had trinkets from the crime scene in his possession?”
“He’s going to argue someone else could have collected them. Or at the very worst, his client is a weirdo who collected them after the fact but didn’t actually murder that girl.”
“And her family has closed ranks around that creep,” Kenya said. “You know I’m going to court with Hayden next week on that bogus restraining order her mother filed.”
“I’m thankful for that. This has been horrific for Hayden. But … her grandfather at least seems to be willing to support her.”
Kenya shook her head. “She called here right before you got here. He’s tried to contact her. She’s not ready. Hayden feels pretty traumatized by all of them. She may never trust her family again.”
“That’s understandable. She has to do what feels safe for her right now.”
“I suppose telling you this won’t help the pressure you feel. But Hayden’s terrified about what happens if Simmons gets acquitted. She’s making plans to leave town.”
I nodded. “That poor kid. I just wish someone could get through to her mother. She won’t take my calls.”
“Mine either. I tried,” Kenya said. “She blocked my number.”
“Jamie Simmons,” I said. “The gift that keeps on giving. Even from jail.”
“Who do you think Cutler’s going to call first?” she asked. “Do you think he’ll put Simmons on the stand?”
“I hope so,” I said, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “I’d like to tear him to pieces on cross.”
“That’s the Mara I know and love.” Kenya smiled. “You’ve got this. I still like your side of this thing a heck of a lot better than Cutler’s.”
“Thanks,” I said, not realizing how much I needed her to say it.
Whether it was the booze or the pep talk, I was feeling more myself.
A little jolt of adrenaline went through me as I thought about getting Kenya back where she belonged.
What we could do. With me trying cases, Sam as sheriff, and Kenya back in the big office.
But first, I’d have to tear Bennett Cutler and Jamie Simmons apart.