Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
MINA
“You don’t have it.”
Vic Jaffe was a fossil, having been admitted to the Michigan bar in the mid-eighties.
Since then, his various wives had thrown him three retirement parties.
Rather than letting go of his law license, he let go of the wives.
Now, he stood outside of Judge Clarke’s courtroom making arguments that bordered on offensive.
“I’m not interested in fiction, Vic.” I slid my cell phone into my briefcase.
“Joan Cummings is looking at six months in a rehab facility learning how to tie her shoes again. Maddie Cummings is going to need intensive psychotherapy. She’ll be an eighteen-year-old kid taking care of her disabled mother. ”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Am I? Oh wait… that’s right… Shawn Cummings can’t get anywhere near Joan in order to see for himself.”
We were drawing a crowd. I had half a mind to let the rest of the county bar see what an arrogant prick Vic was. But they already knew. So, in the interest of discretion, we walked into the open jury room and shut the door.
“Simple assault,” he said. “A horrible accident. Joan doesn’t want this.”
I shook my head. “Simple assault? That’s a ninety-day misdemeanor.
This isn’t a negotiation. There’s no plea deal on the table.
I don’t care what Joan wants. Her daughter is a credible eyewitness who watched her father push her mother down a full flight of stairs.
She’s had enough. She doesn’t care if Joan cuts her out of her life. At least she’ll have a life.”
“Have you thought about how much this will hurt your own interests, Mina?”
I felt a tingling in my brain. What exactly was Vic trying to accuse me of?
“Shawn Cummings isn’t nobody, Mina. He has the means to mount a strong defense. You don’t want this to go to trial. You’ll lose. And it won’t look good on your resume.”
“Tell Mr. Cummings he already has his break. I could have charged him with attempted murder.” I opened the door and started to walk back out into the hall.
“Ten years?” Vic nearly shrieked it. “You think you’re putting him away for ten years?”
I felt bile rise in my throat. Joan Cummings was looking at a lifetime of living with a closed head injury. Vic was worried about ten years.
“Mina?” Roy Dennison’s deep voice came from behind me. He looked more serious than usual. “Sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt.” Except I knew he did. Vic Jaffe wasn’t a favorite among county law enforcement.
“We’re done,” I said. I left Vic swearing under his breath.
“Do I even wanna know?” Roy asked.
“Shawn Cummings. I think Vic finally realized his meal ticket is headed to prison.”
“Good. What did you go with?”
“Assault with intent to do great bodily harm.”
“Hallelujah. The daughter’s stepping up?”
“Big time. So, was that chivalry or is something else going on?”
We entered the stairwell together. “I called you a couple of times.”
“I’ve been in court all morning.”
“Figured. Are you done with that for the day?”
“I am indeed.”
“Good. I’ll buy you lunch on the way, but can you do a field trip to Washtenaw County?”
I stopped just before we reached the door to the parking lot. “What’s going on?”
“We got a DNA hit off a few drops of blood found in Gretchen Small’s car that didn’t belong to Gretchen.
What we did find of Gretchen’s blood is enough for the coroner to conclude she didn’t survive.
” Roy almost sounded giddy. I felt my own blood rush to my heart.
“This is officially a murder case. And we think we got him.”
“Him?”
“CODIS came through. We got a match to a guy arrested on a hit-skip two months ago. Washtenaw County deputies picked him up. He’s got a record a mile long on drug offenses.
He violated his probation. They’ve got him in custody.
Amy Pasko is already down there for a lineup.
I don’t want to risk a single technical mistake.
If she IDs him, we’ll have search warrants in hand by the end of the day.
I also called Corrine Egan. She’s scared to death, but she’s agreed to meet us there.
If it’s the same guy, she should be even more sure. She was intimate with him.”
“Roy, we don’t have jurisdiction over the Pasko or Small case. Not even Corrine’s if it comes to charging. I’m not telling you anything you don’t know.”
“We’re allowed to be there. That’s what TRACE is for.”
“I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.”
“We won’t. We’ve got access to more resources through the TRACE grant money. Trust me, nobody’s going to turn down the help.”
“We’ve got him?” I asked. “Our WhisprMatch guy?”
“One step at a time,” Roy said. “But I have a good feeling about this one.”
I thought of Lock. Relief flooded through me.