Final Judgment

by Marcia Clark

  Not to her anyway. Why bother? And I had to admit, if he wanted to disappear, a villa in a remote area outside Puerto Vallarta would be a good choice. Alex asked her to describe what she’d seen in the photo and took notes. Her memory was surprisingly detailed.

  But how to find him there, with no clue as to who his friend was or exactly where the villa was located, was a whole different problem.

  THIRTY-SIX

  We thanked Iris for her help. She tried to smile and nod as she said, “My pleasure.” But her wary expression told me that was yet another lie.

  As we headed for Alex’s car, I said, “Can you do anything with her description of that villa?”

  Alex hit the remote, and the double beep of his car alarm bounced off the walls. “I’d say there’s a fifty-fifty chance. At best.”

  Not great. “So we just have to hope we get lucky.”

  As we got into the car, he threw me a sarcastic smile. “But as someone likes to say way too often, I’d rather be lucky than good.”

  I gave him a look. “Shut up.”

  When we got back to the office, I saw that Michy looked all spiffed up in a low-cut black sweater. And her dark-blonde hair was down, sans the habitual Scünci. “Wow, what’s the occasion? Are you and Brad actually going to have a real date, like grown-ups?”

  They both worked long hours, but the sweatshop that called itself a white-shoe corporate law office worked him to the bone. Nights off—even on the weekends—were few and far between. Consequently, their dates usually consisted of ordering in pizza.

  Michy reflexively reached up to adjust the Scünci that wasn’t there, then lowered her hands and smoothed the back of her hair. She made a face. “We’re having dinner with his parents at Craft.”

  I was puzzled. “I thought you said you liked them.”

  She gave an impatient sigh. “I do. It’s just that we never get any time alone, and now that he finally has a night off, I’d like it to be just us.”

  I didn’t blame her. “Well, dinner doesn’t last all night.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. We’ll see whether Brad can stay awake.”

  True, that was a long shot. “But you’ll be happy you put up with all this when he makes partner.”

  “If he survives that long,” she said. “Anyway, enough about my anemic love life. Angelina called back. She said Eliza’s willing to meet with you.”

  I’d given up on the possibility. “That’s fantastic.” I paused for a moment. I didn’t want Angelina to be there when we talked. “Can we cut Angelina out of the loop and meet Eliza alone somewhere?”

  Michy nodded. “I had a feeling you’d say that. I asked Angelina for her number, but she didn’t want to give it to me. So I told Angelina to give Eliza our number.”

  “I hate to leave the ball in her court. I guess we’ll just have to see if she hits it back over the net.”

  Michy gave me a triumphant smile. “Actually, she already did.” Michy touched the space bar on her keyboard and woke up her computer. “Eliza didn’t leave a number, but she asked if she could come in this afternoon. She said she’d call back at lunch.”

  “Excellent. A happy surprise, for a change. I’m going to go listen to our interview with Angelina.” I wanted to review what she’d said about the rape.

  We always secretly recorded our interviews with witnesses. I didn’t want them to know, because I’ve found it makes them self-conscious and—worst of all—cautious. But I needed to let them see that I was memorializing what they said in case I had to confront them with inconsistencies later, so Alex always pretended to take notes. That never seemed to bother witnesses the way a glowing red light on a recorder did.

  “I’m going to finish my workup on Angelo,” Alex said.

  I’d been on my way to my office, but now I stopped. His next hearing—when he’d plead guilty to all charges—was coming up, and I’d asked the judge for immediate sentencing. Angelo wanted out of county jail yesterday. Prison is much nicer, believe it or not. “And? Have you found anything heartwarming?”

  Alex gave me a despairing look. “Not a thing so far. And it’s not looking good.”

  I nodded. I’d had a feeling we’d come up dry on this one. The only argument I could make was that Angelo had saved everyone the hassle and expense of a trial. But the Honorable Sally Thomsky was a new judge. I didn’t know how she felt about guns—especially illegal ones—or the people who sold them. “Thanks for trying, Alex. Let me know if you happen to get lucky.”

  He said he would—with zero enthusiasm—and I went into my office and closed the door.

  I’d nearly finished listening to Angelina’s interview when Eliza called. Michy put her right through. I could hear teenage voices in the background. She was calling from school. I made my voice as warm and nonthreatening as I could as I told her that I’d be happy to see her this afternoon. “And I promise, everything you say will be confidential.”

  Eliza spoke in a fast, shaky voice. “Thanks. Um, then is two thirty okay?”

  “Sounds great.” I considered offering to pick her up, then realized that having any of the kids at school see her getting picked up by some stranger was the last thing she’d want. “And I’ll cover your Lyft. Or Uber.”

  I gave her my office address, and she typed it into her phone, then read it back to me. “It’ll just be you, right?”

  I always prefer to have Alex with me during interviews. If a witness decides to go south when he testifies in court, I can’t take the stand to contradict him. A lawyer can’t testify in her own case. So I need an investigator, i.e., Alex, to do it. But this case would probably never see the inside of a courtroom. I could do this one alone. “If that’s what you want, absolutely.”

  She whispered, “Okay, later.”

  As we ended the call, the shakiness in her voice made me worry she might not show. But she did. Half an hour early, in fact. I went out to the reception area to greet her.

  Although she wore no makeup, Eliza was a stunner. She was taller and a little less voluptuous than Angelina—I guessed the latter would change in the next few years—but there was no mistaking the family resemblance. Eliza’s cheekbones and jawline weren’t as pronounced as Angelina’s, but she had the same generous mouth and large blue eyes as her sister. Her blonde hair was twisted in a long braid that hung down to the middle of her back. I noticed that unlike so many in her generation, she had no visible tats or piercings. The overall effect was soft and innocent. It made her seem even younger than her fifteen years. I got the feeling that nothing remotely like that hideous rape had ever happened to her before.

  It made me that much more determined to get the asshole who’d done it. I put out my hand. “Hi, Eliza. I’m Sam.” I tilted my head toward Michy. “And that’s my boss and best friend, Michelle.”

  Michy gave her a warm smile and waved. “Hey, Eliza.”

  Eliza shook my hand, then gave me a confused look. “She’s your boss? Aren’t you the lawyer?”

  My lips twitched. “Yes, but Michy is everything else. Paralegal, bookkeeper, receptionist, occasional investigator . . . you get the picture.”

  She gave a little smile and nodded. “And she’s your bestie. That’s cool.”

  Alex came out of his office, his hand outstretched. I’d warned him he might not be welcome in this interview. Very often, female victims aren’t comfortable talking to men—no matter how “woke” or how sympathetic. “Hi, Eliza, I’m Alex, her investigator. Thanks for coming in.”

  Everything about him was perfect. His voice was gentle and warm, and his smile was kind. But I could see it didn’t matter. She shook his hand, but she did it reluctantly. As she turned back to me, I caught his eye, and he nodded to let me know he understood. He said, “I’ve got to get back to work, but it was nice to meet you. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

  Relief spread across her features. “Sure. And thanks.”

  I gestured to my office. “Want to come in?” I let Eliza take th
e lead and followed her inside. “We can sit anywhere.” I swept an arm toward the couch and the chairs in front of my desk. She opted for the couch. I had an idea. “Would you like Michy to join us?” I’d seen that she’d sparked to my BFF right away.

  Eliza tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Yeah, that’d be cool.”

  I poked my head out of the door and waved for Michy to come in. She pointed to herself and whispered, “Me? Really?”

  I nodded. Michy shrugged, then came in and joined Eliza on the couch. I turned one of the chairs around to face them. I started by reminding her that this conversation would be confidential and explained the law regarding attorney-client privilege. “You’re officially my client now. So none of us in the law firm can tell anyone what you say.”

  Eliza pulled her braid over her left shoulder and hung onto it. “What if the cops ask you questions?”

  I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter. They can’t make me tell them anything. And unless you’ve reported what happened, they have no reason to ask me.” I paused. “Have you? Reported it, I mean?”

  “No.” She let go of her braid and looked down. “I feel bad about that. He’s still out there. If he did it to someone else, it’d be all my fault.”

  I leaned in. “Eliza.” I waited for her to look at me. “Whatever he’s done or will do is his fault and only his. Not yours. It’s very important you know that.” She nodded, but I could see it’d be a while before she let herself off the hook. “The only thing we can do about it right now is try and find him.”

  She gave me a searching look. “And then what? If we don’t go to the cops, how do we stop him?”

  I had no doubt Angelina would deal with him much more swiftly—and finally—than any judge. But I didn’t know how well Eliza knew her sister. “I don’t want you to worry about that right now. Just know that we do have a plan.” Sort of. For the briefest of moments, a knowing look flashed across her face. But in an instant, it was replaced by a solemn expression. It happened so fast, I wasn’t even sure I’d seen it. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. But I’d be glad if she knew her big sister would make sure he got stopped. Permanently. “Are you ready?” She nodded. “Let’s start with what he looked like. I know you didn’t see him. But did he seem to be tall? Short? Thin? Fat?”

  She stared at the window behind me. “He seemed . . . average. Definitely not fat. Taller than me, and I’m five foot six.”

  Michy asked, “How much taller? Would you say he was six feet tall?”

  Eliza thought for a moment. “Around that, maybe.”

  “What about his hair?” I asked. “Could you tell whether he was bald or had long or short hair?”

  Eliza’s brow furrowed. “He definitely wasn’t bald. I remember smelling some kind of hair product. And I didn’t feel it on my . . . on my body. I’m pretty sure it was short.” She paused for a few seconds. “And he smelled like he’d been drinking.”

  “Could you tell what kind of drink?” I asked. “Scotch? Whiskey? Tequila?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Wine. Red wine.”

  Maybe we were getting somewhere. “Do you remember whether Angelina was serving red wine at the party that night?”

  “I know she was.” Eliza glanced from me to Michy. “I snuck some.”

  I smiled at her. “Sounds like something I would’ve done. Do you remember what kind you drank? Did it smell like what you’d been drinking?”

  She sighed. “No. I don’t even remember what I was drinking. I just know it smelled like red wine.”

  Too bad. If I’d been able to pin down the kind of wine, I might’ve had a chance to narrow down the list of suspects. But this was a step in the right direction. “Do you remember who you were talking to at the party?”

  She shook her head. “A bunch of people but no one in particular. It’s all pretty much a blur.” Eliza quickly added, “But I wasn’t drunk or anything. I only had one glass of wine, and I didn’t even finish it.”

  I could see it was yet another thing she was blaming herself for. “I didn’t think it was because of the wine, Eliza. It’s a blur because of the trauma. I’m going to keep saying this as long as it takes: none of this was your fault.” She nodded and dipped her head. I gave an inward sigh. It was best to move on for now. “Could it possibly be an ex-boyfriend who was looking for payback?”

  She shook her head. “Not . . . No. We broke up a year ago, and it was pretty mutual.”

  I had a hard time believing that any guy would want to break up with someone like Eliza, so the “mutual” part was debatable. But a year is an awfully long time to wait for payback. I scratched the ex-boyfriend theory off my list. “Are you seeing anyone now?”

  “Uh, not really.” She glanced at me, then quickly shifted her gaze.

  Eliza might be good at a lot of things, but lying wasn’t one of them. She was definitely seeing someone, and it had to be a person she didn’t want anyone to know about. And then I was struck with a possible answer—not one I liked. “Tanner, right?”

  She swallowed hard, then nodded. “But it wasn’t, like, a regular thing. We just hooked up once in a while.” She gave me a pleading look. “Please, you can’t tell Angelina. She’ll kill me! She never wanted me to be there when he came around.”

  I’d kill her, too, if she were my little sister. Was there any woman or girl Tanner knew who he hadn’t had sex with? Apparently not. I didn’t get it. His “charm” completely eluded me. But this told me our little Eliza wasn’t exactly the Snow White she’d appeared to be. “Of course I won’t tell her. I can’t, remember? But I guess by now you know she was just trying to protect you.”

  Eliza looked down at her lap, where her fingers were interlaced. “Oh, I knew it then, too.” She paused, then said, “After I’d been with Tanner a couple of times, he asked me to have a three-way with him and Bryan.”

  Huh? The Bryan who had hot-and-cold-running boys on tap? “I thought Bryan was gay.”

  She nodded. “He was. I actually saw him in the VIP section of a bar on Santa Monica dancing with a much younger guy.” Eliza met my gaze. “But I said no. I wouldn’t do it. I just want you to know that.”

  I was happy to hear it. “Do you think Bryan and Tanner had a thing going on?”

  Eliza shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it’s possible. But I definitely got the impression by the way Tanner asked that it wasn’t the first time he’d tried to get a threesome going.”

  Might this news open up another avenue? “Was Tanner bisexual?”

  She shook her head. “Didn’t seem like it. I never saw him with a guy, and he never asked me about doing a threesome again, so . . .” She shrugged.

  I took that in for a moment. I’d chew on this new information with Michy and Alex later, but I had a theory about what Tanner was doing with that threesome proposition.

  I turned the questioning back to the assault. “And you’re sure the guy who attacked you wasn’t Bryan or Tanner?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “A hundred percent. I know it wasn’t either of them.”

  We asked for more details about the assault, about exactly where she’d been when he first attacked her, about her attacker’s clothes, his car, about . . . everything we could think of. But not only had she been blindfolded, her memory was compromised by the trauma. We couldn’t dredge up anything new.

  It was going to be another nutcracker of a case. Perfect.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Eliza left at three thirty, and I asked Alex to come join Michy and me so we could fill him in on the interview and talk about what we’d learned.

  He looked incredulous when I told him about her liaisons with Tanner. “Seriously? Is it just me? Because I really don’t get what all these women see in that guy.”

  Michy looked from Alex to me. “I don’t get what you guys don’t get. I’ve seen his picture. He’s hot, and he’s got bad-boy charm.” She glanced at me. “I’d have thought you in particular would see that in a heartbeat.”

  Sh
e was right. I usually did go for jerks like him. I raised my palms. “What can I say? Consider it good news.”

  Michy smiled. “I do. Maybe you’re finally getting to see what it’s like to be with someone who’s good for you.”

  The mention of Niko brought a wave of uneasiness. Was he good for me? He certainly had been so far. But I couldn’t be sure of anything about him at this point. And the longer this investigation continued, the more time I had to question whether I really knew him. I didn’t like the way I was feeling, and I didn’t want to talk about him right now. I moved us back to the subject of Eliza. “In any case, bad-boy hottie or not, I definitely didn’t see Eliza hooking up with him.”

  Michy shrugged. “Seems like typical teenage rebellion to me. Big sister tries to keep her away from him, so he immediately becomes the one thing she’s gotta have.”

  Alex nodded. “Fair point. But what do you make of that three-way proposition? I have pretty decent gaydar, and Tanner had nothing but hetero vibes coming off him.”

  I offered my theory. “I think you’re right. Tanner’s straight. But it’s a great way to control Bryan. And Tanner’s all about whatever gives him control.”

  Alex tilted his head. “That fits.”

  Michy asked, “Are we a hundred percent certain Eliza’s attacker had been at the party?”

  I wished I could say yes. “No. We’re not. It seems likely, but red wine isn’t exactly a rare item.”

  Michy sighed. “You know, I don’t usually say this, but I’m glad she doesn’t want to go to the police. I doubt they could do anything with what little she gave us.”

  It said something that Michy—who’d been brutally attacked herself and was adamant that everyone should call the police—thought it wasn’t worthwhile in Eliza’s case. I looked from Michy to Alex. “Anyone have any doubts or concerns about her story?”

  Alex shook his head. “None.”

  Michy nodded. “Same.”

  I didn’t, either. “Then I think the next step is to canvass the neighborhood.” I’m all about the latest technology. Concealed cameras, Ring cameras, motion sensors, whatever. But in the end, there’s only one way to do a decent investigation, and that’s by door knocking the area and asking questions face-to-face.