“At seven-fifty-five.”
“When did the first responder arrive?”
“Eight-oh-one.”
“You have a mind for details, Levi.”
“Thanks, Ruby.”
“When did you complete the probable-cause statement?”
“Well, I added to it to place formal charges.”
“What about the PC to support the warrants?”
“I’d have to pull that up." He tapped at his keyboard.“Let me see here . . . it was at eight-nineteen.”
“You work fast.”
“To be honest, Johnston drafted most of it. He said he started it right after he talked to dispatch. He wanted to help speed things along for his friend.”
“When did he send you a draft?”
“The transmission was received at eight-oh-nine. I reviewed it and entered it into the system.”
“Your name is on the PC statement?”
“Yes.”
“Did anything seem unusual about Johnston’s draft?”
“I didn’t give it much thought. I entered it into our system’s template, submitted the corresponding paperwork, and arranged for its presentation to a judge.”
“Think about it. Eight minutes after the first responder arrived, Johnston had a PC statement drafted. Does that seem fast?”
“Yes, that’s fast.”
“Didn’t you work with him on charging when he was in drug and property?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did he wow you with his ability to zip through a PC statement?”
“No, his speed wasn’t memorable.”
“It was average. That’s my recall, too. I’m impressed he managed such a steep increase in productivity. Maybe he’d have some tips. You know how I love efficiency.”
“You certainly do.”
Ruby’s PSC signaled.“Well, the transfer is complete.”She grabbed her PSC and held out her free hand.“Thanks, Levi. Great to catch up.”
He gave it a hearty shake.
“Likewise, Ruby.”
Jasmine rose.“We’ll get out of your hair so you can take off.”
“Congrats on your new job, Jasmine.”
“Thanks.”
“And Levi? I wouldn’t mention this conversation to Johnston. He’s not my biggest fan under the best circumstances. You understand that I’m just doing my job. But he’s taking this personally, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, he is. It’s his—”
“Buddy. Yeah, I know. Thanks again. We’ll show ourselves out.”
They left the Violent Crimes Division behind and rode down in contemplative silence.
Ruby led Jasmine through the atrium, waving at Ernie as she passed, and into a connecting tunnel.“Have you been this way?”
“No. Are we entering the jail building?”
“Yes, the Kaye County Law Enforcement Center. Doesn’t it feel different?”Ruby placed her palm on the wall.“Concrete. It’s still used for jails and not much else—not because it’s cheaper than newer, and better, materials. It sets the ambience they’re after.”
“You paint a pretty picture.”
“I want you to know what to expect so this dank setting doesn’t distract you. Lady Luck has struck again—Susan’s arresting officer is here. What are you going to pay attention to?”
“Not my surroundings.”
“Right, not here. Save that for the scene, for the residence. We’re here to people watch. Officer Strauss first, then our client.”
They locked up their belongings. Ruby held her PSC as they entered the screening area. A bulky officer entered from a side door and ushered them through an archway. When the metal detector stayed silent, he said,“Officer Straus will receive you in Conference B. Do you require instructions?”
“No, thanks, Brutis.”
Ignoring Ruby, Brutis hulked to the doorway.“Enter now.”He passed through and stood as sentinel on the other side.
“A riot, isn’t he?”Ruby tossed over her shoulder as she breezed past.
“Hilarious,”Jasmine whispered.
Ruby guided Jasmine down a fluorescent corridor. She paused at a heavy door. Metal clanked as it yawned open. She ushered Jasmine into a large concrete box with a single black table. Metal chairs lined the wall. Grabbing one, Ruby pulled it to the table.“Have a seat,”she said.
Jasmine sat at the edge.
“Don’t expect comfort. It’s minimalist in here.”
“I figured that out, thanks.”
Ruby placed a chair across from them, and sat next to Jasmine.
“How old is this place?”Jasmine asked.
“Its bones are older than your great-grandparents. It’s had facelifts over the years, yet it remains a cadaverous place. It’d be colossal if the retributionists had gotten their way. Do you know what the compromise was between the rehabbers and the retters?”
“The rehabilitationists got funding for restorative-justice programs, and the retributionists got Mardova.”
“Nice one, Jazz.”
“We learned that during Intro to Criminal Law.”
“You’re about to meet a real-life, die-hard retter—Officer Gary Strauss. Ask yourself, how would a retributionist filter information?”
The door clanked open, and a broad, rigid man entered. The bright lights washed out his pale face and hair, giving the impression he had unremarkable features. His mitt of a hand swallowed Ruby’s and then Jasmine’s. His chair scraped the floor as it shifted under his weight.
“Officer Strauss, you’ve undoubtedly had a long night. We’ll make this brief before we meet with Susan Combes.”
“Good, and then you can tell your client the jury verdict will come back quick—guilty. This one is open-and-shut. Once you see the evidence, you’ll advise her to plead.”
Ruby pushed to her feet.“Absolutely not. My client has a right to a zealous defense!”She pounded the table.
His bulging nose and ruddy cheeks gained definition as his face reddened. Fuming, Strauss panted under his efforts to maintain control.
“I’ll leave no stone unturned, no report unread, no evidence uncollected. I will triple and quadruple check your work, and the work of all men and women under your employ in this matter.”
“That’s a ludicrous waste of your time. We found the knife. It has your client’s prints on it. The county attorney himself saw her flee from the scene. He identified the deceased, and we verified with prints and a blood sample. She’s a nut job. Ask Stuart Johnston. Ask her neighbor.”
“Neighbor?”
“Deanna Connelly.”
Ruby sat and smiled.“Your reputation precedes you, Strauss. You play by the rules, and follow protocol precisely.”
Strauss nodded. His breath eased and features faded.
“I do the same, Strauss. I play it straight. I’m not seeking to avoid justice for my client. I want to secure it for her. Understood?”
“Yes, yes. I’ve heard you’re solid. We’re all a bit on edge. It’s been a long night. And Stuart is pushing us all hard. It’s his—”
“Buddy. So I’ve heard. I’m ready to see Susan Combes now.”
“I’ll show you back to your client.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that you took the time to meet with us.”
Strauss showed them into a meeting room. With a parting wave, he left them alone.
“I didn’t know the rooms could get smaller.”
“Shallow breaths, Jazz, or we’ll run out of air.”
She looked mortified.
“Sorry, bad joke. Breathe easy.”
“That was . . . bizarre. What happened with Officer Strauss?”
“By checking in with the arresting officer, you can sometimes discover evidence before the initial client meeting. I riled Strauss a bit, and he sang like a canary. It is rather macabre in here, isn’t it? Makes you long for birdsong and sunshine.”
“Yeah. That’s a distant, fond memory at this point.”
The back door t
o the room opened. A slim woman in standard-issue orange walked in, eyes fastened to the floor.
Ruby moved to her client, put her arm around her shoulders, and ushered her to a chair. Once Susan was seated, Ruby began in quiet tones.“Happy birthday, Susan. Has anyone else wished you that today?”
“No.”She looked at her hands.“No one.”
“Did you see your husband today?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s attend to the formalities so we can update you on our progress. I’m Ruby Miller, and this is Jasmine Sinclair. You’ve verbally hired my firm. Please review the representation agreement.”Ruby held out her PSC.
Susan reached for it with her left hand, then retracted it and bobbled the PSC with her right.“I’m sorry.”She hastened to prop up the PSC.
“I’ll give you the highlights. You’re free to fire me as your lawyer at any time. It lists the conditions under which I could fire you as my client—essentially if you ask me to lie, cheat, or commit a crime. You’re confirming my authority to gain physical access to any property under your ownership, to your financial accounts, and to your medical records as I deem necessary to represent you. My fee is at the bottom, along with the requisite permissions to transfer that amount from your personal account. It’s a flat-fee, and covers everything through the case resolution. Possible resolutions are dismissal, or sentencing. Let me know if you have any questions.”
Ruby and Jasmine waited while Susan reviewed the agreement.
“I can’t pay that amount. Jerald’s in charge of our finances. Our paychecks go into an account under his name. He transfers six hundred into my personal account each month for household expenses.”
“One-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars was transferred into your personal account from your husband’s—today. Happy birthday.”
“That makes no sense.”
“A lot doesn’t make sense, Susan. We’re going to find out what happened. We’ll take everything one step at a time. First, do you have any questions about the representation agreement?”
“No. I just can’t believe . . . Why would he give me that money?”
“It will all make sense in the end, Susan. I promise.”She gave her a reassuring smile.“If you agree to the terms, please sign.”Ruby set a stylus on the table.
Susan curled it in her right hand and signed.
“Every question I ask has a reason. Don’t try to figure it out. Answer as best you can.”
“I’ve been going over and over it. I don’t know anything. I saw Jerry alive, and then all of a sudden the police . . . I don’t know what happened. I don’t know anything.”
“Susan, it’s okay if you don’t know the answer to a question. This is going to be hard, but it’s necessary. We’re right here with you. We’ll get through it together.”
Jasmine gave Susan a gentle smile.
“Okay?”Ruby asked.
“Okay.”
“Stuart Johnston claims he saw you driving away from the cabin holding a kitchen knife.”
“No, no. That’s impossible. I was in my house all night.”Tears streamed down her face.
Jasmine squeezed her right hand.
“They think you left a trail a kid could follow into the woods to the gingerbread house.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Any idiot would conclude that you killed your husband. Susan, look at me.”Ruby waited for Susan to wipe her eyes and lift her gaze.“We’re not idiots. And I don’t mean everyone who investigated your case is, but mindlessly following protocol left much undiscovered.”
“So you believe me?”
“Yes, of course you didn’t kill your husband. We’ve set about proving it.”
“How?”
“I wondered at your physical ability. You’re accused of hauling a man from driveway to bathroom, and lifting him into a tub—not a feat for weaklings. Your dominant hand is your left. I know because you reached out from habit before withdrawing and extending your right. You signed awkwardly, and you’ve cradled your left wrist as if injured. Is it?”
“I think so.”
“Did you tell the officers as they handcuffed you?”
“Yes. They didn’t care they were hurting me—just like Jerry.”She looked pained.“I shouldn’t say that about my own husband.”
“Is it true?”
“Yes.”
“Please don’t apologize for speaking the truth, Susan. It’s exactly what we’re after, and it’s going to set you free. It’s very rare for a woman to kill her batterer.”
“No, Jerry’s not . . . he just gets upset. I make him so mad.”
“He gets out of control?”
“Yes.”
“What has he broken of his?”
“Well, I’ll have to think about it . . . Nothing, I guess.”
“He’s only broken what’s yours, hasn’t he? He’s had enough control to target your belongings. I see marks around your neck. What happened, Susan?”
“I, I made dinner. And he found a card from my dentist. He’s very protective of me. He wants me for himself.”
“I know it.”
“And I made him so mad.”
“You’re not responsible for his emotions.”
“Before I knew it, he had me up against the wall. His hands were around my neck. And then he threw me down.”She fixated on where the concrete met the floor.“I landed on my wrist. He pulled me up by it. I told him it hurt, but he didn’t stop. I tried to get help. I made it to the neighbor’s.”
“Deanna Connelly’s house?”
“Yes.”
“Did she help you?”
“No, she wouldn’t let me in.”
“Where was Jerry?”
“He acted like nothing happened. He told her it was me. That I’m crazy, out of control.”She looked up at Ruby.“Maybe I am.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I keep losing things. They show up in plain sight. I couldn’t even find my car keys to go to work this morning. Deanna wouldn’t give me a ride.”
“What did you wear for your birthday dinner?”
“A blue dress. I wore it when we first met. I wanted to make it special. I’m so stupid. I even took a picture in it.”
Ruby glanced over at Jasmine.“When did you take it?”
“Maybe fifteen minutes before he came home.”
“What did you use? A camera?”
“No, my phone.”
“Where’s your phone, Susan?”
“It was on my bedside table.
“Where’s your blue dress?”
“In the hamper.”
“Were your shoes in the photo?”
“Yes, I propped my phone on the counter and took it full-length. It’s so silly.”
“You should feel free to take whatever pictures you want in your own home. What shoes were you wearing?”
“They’re white and blue with sparkles.”
“High heels?”
“Yes.”
“Do you keep shoes at the cabin? Clothes?”
“No, I’ve only been there a few times, back when we first bought it.”
“What did your husband get you for your birthday?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you ask for anything?”
“No, I don’t ask him for anything.”
“What’s the last present your husband gave you?”
“A kitchen knife.”
“When?”
“Around midnight.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say anything about it being a birthday present. And this morning he said I—I didn’t deserve a present.”
“Does he cook?”
“No.”
“Did you ask for a new kitchen knife? Complain about your old ones?”
“No.”
“Susan, what happened after you went to Deanna for help?”
“Jerry was there, and Deanna didn’t believe me. He told me to go inside and clean up
my mess. And then he took off. He told me to not ask him where he was going. That’s the last time I saw him.”
“What did you do next?”
“I cleaned up the kitchen.”
“Did you throw away what was broken?”
“Everything except my grandmother’s vase. I put it in a box under my bed.”
“And then?”
“I went to bed. I just wanted today to end.”
“Anything happen before the cops showed up?”
“You’ll think I’m crazy.”
“Try me.”
“It started like a dream. I had this strange feeling that someone was watching me.”
“Hair standing up, heart pounding in your chest?”
“Yes, like that.”
“What did you do?”
“I got out of bed, and checked. There was nobody there, of course. And Jerry’s side of the bed was cold. So I went back to bed, and just as I was falling asleep, I heard Jerry’s voice—crystal clear.”
“What did he say?”
“‘You’re mine, Susan. Mine and nobody else’s.’I’m losing stuff, hearing voices. Nobody sees Jerry like I do. Makes him mad like I do. Am I losing my mind?”
“No, but Jerry sure wanted you to think so. Have you ever wielded a weapon against him?”
“No, no. Never.”
“You’ve never held up a knife and warned him to back off?”
“No. I just kept hoping . . .”
“Hoping what, Susan?”Ruby prompted.
“That I’d stop making him so mad. That we’d go back to being happy like we used to be. That he’d go back to being the man I fell in love with, and that he’d remember why he fell in love with me. But I just kept screwing it up, and now he’s gone.”
“Susan, you’re not at all to blame for what he’s done to you. Even if he was around, he wouldn’t do anything to make things right. We’re here to help you clean up the mess he’s left behind.”
“I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you believe me. What’ll happen to me?”
“We’ll investigate through the weekend, and meet with you on Monday morning before your bail hearing. That’s when the judge will determine your release conditions. We’ll have a medic tend to your wrist right away.”
“Thank you, Ruby. Thanks, Jasmine.”
“You’re very welcome, Susan. Remember, you have a lawyer. Remind the cops of that if they try to question you. I’m a phone call away.”
The Veiled Cage (Lady Lawyer Series Romantic Suspense Novels Book 1) Page 10