Chapter 32
Saturday afternoon
Sabre closed the file and sat back in her office chair. Across from her, Ethan Vale tapped his pen against the table, then set it down. “Well,” he said, “we have a theory. No. We have a direction.”
Sabre lifted her eyes. “We know she was protecting someone.”
“That part works.”
“Then we build from that.”
Vale shook his head. “How? We don’t know who she was protecting.”
He stood, paced a step, then turned back. “We’re asking a judge to believe she used lethal force to protect another person. That requires specifics, immediacy, and credibility. We have none of those.”
“We can show Todd’s pattern.”
“That helps,” Vale said. “But it doesn’t close the gap.”
“Bay’s protecting her,” Sabre said. “We respect that.”
He shook his head. “No. We don’t.”
Sabre looked up sharply.
“We can’t,” Vale continued. “Not if it costs Bay the case.”
Sabre stood. “So, we push her until she breaks?”
“If that’s what it takes,” Vale said.
“That’s not how this works.”
“That’s exactly how this works.”
They held there for a moment, tension tight between them.
Then Vale’s tone softened. “I’m not trying to hurt her. I’m trying to save her. She’s halfway to taking the fall for something no one can verify. If we don’t get that name, we lose the only defense that makes sense.”
“All right,” Sabre said. “Let’s go talk to her.”
~~~
In Juvenile Hall, Sabre and Vale were escorted to the interview room. Everything looked the same, the walls, the muted sounds, and the feeling that whomever entered those rooms didn’t always come back out the same.
Bay sat where she had before, the guard waiting outside the small cubicle. She was quiet, but seemed more unsettled.
They took their seats, and Vale let Sabre lead.
“Bay,” Sabre said softly. “You’ve had some time to think. So have we.”
Bay’s eyes flicked up. “Does he have to be here?”
“You know he does.” Sabre didn’t want to rush her, but it was time. “We’re trying to understand what happened with Todd Maddox so we can form a defense for you.”
No reaction.
“Not just what happened but also why.” Sabre shifted. “You said before that he was going to hurt someone.”
Bay’s shoulders tightened.
Vale cut in, his tone calm. “If someone was in danger, that gives us a good defense.”
Bay shook her head. “You don’t understand.”
“Then help us understand.”
A long silence. Then Bay said, “He doesn’t stop. If no one stops him, he just keeps going.”
“So, you stopped him?” Sabre prodded.
“I had to.”
“Where were you?”
“At his place.”
“What were you doing there?”
Bay’s eyes shifted, not to Sabre or Vale. She was somewhere else, watching something that wasn’t in the room.
“I wasn’t supposed to leave her,” Bay said.
“Who?” Sabre asked, softer now.
Bay shook her head. “I’m not saying.”
Sabre changed direction. “When you got to Todd’s place, what did you see?”
Bay’s body went still. “He had her,” she said.
“How?”
Bay swallowed hard. “Like they do.”
Sabre didn’t push the wording. “Was she hurt?”
Bay shook her head. “Not yet.”
Vale cut in again. “Did he touch her?”
Bay didn’t answer.
Sabre moved carefully. “What did you do next?”
Bay’s eyes dropped to the table. “I told him to stop. But he didn’t. He just laughed at me.”
“What did Maddox do?” Sabre asked.
Bay’s voice flattened. “He told me to leave.”
“And you didn’t?”
“No.”
Another silence.
“Did you have a weapon with you?” Vale asked.
Bay kept her gaze on Sabre when she answered. “No.”
Vale pressed the subject. “Was there something in the room that you picked up and used?”
Bay’s fingers tightened.
“It all happened so fast. I grabbed a knife off the counter, and when he tried to stop me, I stabbed him as hard as I could.” She kept talking, the most she had said yet. “There was blood everywhere.”
She paused, so Sabre asked, “What did you do then?”
“I told her to run home and not look back. He would fix it.”
The guardian? “Who is he?”
Bay ignored the question. “Then she left.”
“Who is she?”
“She got out,” Bay said. “That’s what’s important.”
“Did you leave with her?” Sabre asked.
Bay shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
A pause. “I don’t think I was supposed to.”
“Who told you that?” Sabre asked.
Bay stared at her. “You already know.”
Ethan redirected. “What happened after she left?”
Again, Bay answered with her eyes on Sabre. “I waited.”
Sabre’s attention sharpened. “For what?”
“For it to be handled,” Bay said.
“By who?”
“Him.” She paused. “Or you.”
Sabre didn’t know what to do with that.
Vale stepped in. “And it wasn’t handled?”
Bay shook her head.
“What happened instead?” Sabre asked.
“They came,” Bay said.
“Who?”
“They always come when it’s too loud,” the girl explained.
Sabre knew from the police report that neighbors had poured out of their apartments, and the police had surrounded the home.
“Why didn’t you run?” Sabre asked.
“He would’ve wanted me to stay,” Bay said.
Sabre felt Vale glance at her. “Who?”
Bay went still.
Ethan leaned forward, forearms on the table. “We need to talk about what happened in that room.”
“We’ve talked about it,” Bay said.
“Not enough.”
Sabre felt the shift. Vale had a hardened approach.
“You said he was going to hurt someone,” Vale continued. “That helps you, but only if we can show who that someone was.”
Bay’s shoulders tightened. “I’m not saying.”
“Then we have a problem.”
“You don’t understand,” Bay said.
“No.” Vale replied a little louder. “You don’t understand.”
That got her attention.
“If you don’t tell us who you were protecting,” Vale said, “then what you did looks like murder. Not protection. Not defense. Just murder.”
Bay flinched. “That’s not what it was.”
“Then prove it.”
Sabre tried to cut it in, but Vale pressed further.
“If you want me to stand in court and tell a judge you had no choice, then I need something real. A person. A name.”
Bay shook her head. “No.”
Ethan leaned closer. “Was she a minor?”
No answer.
“Was she hurt?”
Silence.
“Was she someone you knew?”
“Stop,” Bay said.
Vale didn’t. “Did he touch her?”
“I said stop.”
“Then give me something I can use.”
Bay’s hands curled into fists. “You’re not supposed to ask like that.”
“I’m supposed to keep you out of prison,” Vale said.
Bay turned to Sabre, angry now. “You said you were going to help me.”
“I am.”
“Not like this.”
Ethan cut back in. “This is exactly how, because right now, you’re the only one who can help you.”
Bay stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I’m not doing this.”
“Sit down,” Vale said.
“No.”
The girl’s eyes moved between them. “You don’t get it.”
Sabre tried again. “Then help us understand.”
For a moment, something flickered—desperation or resignation maybe—then she shut down completely. “I’m done.”
After a few minutes of silence, they stood to leave.
Outside, the door closed behind them.
“She’s not going to give it up,” Vale said.
Sabre shook her head. “At least not until she’s ready.”
“Which may be too late.”
“I’m not sure your aggressive approach helped, but it is your case.”
“I had to try because your way isn’t working either, at least not fast enough.”
“So, what do we do now?”
Vale looked at her. “We find another way. For now, we know she didn’t bring a weapon with her. We still need a name... unless, there’s no name to give.”
“You don’t believe her?”
“What if she disassociated or something? What if she was just protecting herself?”
“That’s possible,” Sabre said. “But she seemed believable to me.”
“Because that’s what she really believes.”
“You could get a psych eval ordered,” Sabre suggested.
“I may do that.”
Sabre nodded, but her mind was on a little girl from long ago.
“There are so many things that Bay said or did that reminded me of Hannah.”
“You think Hannah survived and this is her?”
“I want so badly to think Hannah is alive. Maybe I’m projecting now.”