“Your main witness in the case is dead, Simone,” Ward said. “That’s as far from hope as we get.”
Heat radiated up her spine. So much for civility. “I’ll be sure to pass your condolences to her family and friends, sir. In the meantime—”
She was cut off by the arrival of a half a dozen of her coworkers entering the room, their assistants right behind. Bringing up the rear were Jack McTavish and his boss, Lieutenant Santos.
“I apologize that we’re late.” Lieutenant Santos slid into the chair beside Simone while Jack stood behind her. “We were waiting on the ME’s report as well as the forensic results.”
“I wasn’t aware you’d be joining us, Lieutenant,” Lawson said. “I assume Ms. Armstrong requested your attendance?”
“No, we came here all on our own,” Jack said in a determined tone. He lifted his arms up and down. “No strings, see?”
Simone bit the inside of her cheek as Santos ducked his head to hide his own smile.
“I assume the audience is here to witness whatever you plan to dole out, so let’s not keep them waiting.” Simone dragged her gaze slowly around the room, meeting each coworker’s eyes. A few looked away. Others glared in open hostility. “Yes, Mara was our main witness—”
“Your only witness,” Hobard said.
“Her testimony would have authenticated the accounting records we’ve used to build our case, yes.” Simone took a steadying breath. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t have other avenues of prosecuting Mr. Denton. The accounting records are only part of the effort.” Granted the most important part, but still.
“Judge Buford’s a stickler for details, Simone.” Ted Jones, who had considered Simone his main competition in the office ever since she’d been hired, spoke up. “If you don’t have any other evidence to support the charges against Denton, you’re out of luck.”
“I am more than aware, but thank you for the reminder, Ted.” She returned her attention to her boss. “Which is why I’m currently exploring other avenues of investigation. It’s always been my belief the current charges were a starting point with Denton. Given the events over the weekend, there’s no doubt someone is worried where this case is concerned.” She shifted her gaze to Hobard. “Otherwise a twenty-three-year-old accountant wouldn’t have been murdered.”
“There’s no evidence to suggest Mara Orlov’s death was anything but an accident,” Ward said. “Is there, Lieutenant?”
“As a matter of fact.” Lieutenant Santos cleared his throat. “The preliminary examination on Mara’s vehicle indicates she was hit from behind, then again on the passenger side, probably in the hopes of sending her into a skid. They found trace evidence of black paint on her car. The tire marks found at the scene support that claim. Broken glass from a headlight and taillight were found fifty yards or so from the site. Also, the car went into the river in neutral.” As Santos spoke, the scene played in Simone’s head like a horror movie. Mara must have been so scared. So alone. Had she cried? Screamed? Fought back? Simone swallowed and tried to focus on the lieutenant.
“We also found physical evidence of an altercation near the scene. Blood found on an outcropping of rocks matches the victim’s, and lacerations around her neck indicate something had been ripped from around her throat. A necklace was found nearby, blood evidence still intact. When we have a suspect, we’ll have something to compare to.”
Simone kept her eyes pinned to Hobard and her boss, watching for any flutter of recognition.
“Is there an estimated cause and time of death?” Hobard asked.
“Blunt force trauma. Her skull was caved in. Probably on that rock,” Jack answered. “The coroner is placing time of death between 2:00 and 8:00 a.m. Friday morning. That’s as close as we’re going to get considering the damage water does to a body.”
“Her GPS signal was lost at eight minutes after three Friday morning,” Santos added.
“All factors taken into account, Mara Orlov’s death is being ruled a homicide.”
“A homicide that occurred in the early morning hours of the day she was scheduled to testify. You told me to come in here this morning with information,” Simone said. “That’s what I’ve brought you.”
“I believe you told me you’d find your witness.”
“We did find her.” The deep voice from the doorway had her clenching her fists as everyone around the table, male and female, shifted to attention. “I couldn’t help but overhear,” Vince said. “I thought a clarification was in order. You wanted her found, we found her. Not in the way anyone wanted, of course. If you dismiss the case against Denton, you’re never going to get another shot at him. Trust me, he’ll either be gone or he’ll be dead. Whoever killed Mara is going to see to that.”
“And who are you exactly?” Hobard asked in a frosty tone.
Simone pursed her lips. She could just imagine the image Vince projected to the room full of law enforcement people and attorneys. While there had been a time she’d have been mortified, given the stricken expression on the DA’s face, her ex-husband could not have timed his arrival better.
“Vince Sutton. I’m a private investigator hired by Ms. Armstrong.”
Ward looked at Simone. “I don’t recall authorizing funds—”
“I didn’t ask for authorization,” Simone said. “I’m paying him myself.”
“I bet you are,” Ted muttered under his breath.
“To be completely aboveboard,” Simone said as Jack and Vince both inched forward into her peripheral vision, “Mr. Sutton happens to be my ex-husband. He’s also a former marine.” She turned a too-bright smile on Ted as he lost two shades of color in his face. “In case you’d like to continue this conversation with either of us after the meeting? His expertise has been invaluable to the case, which we’re continuing to build.” She shifted back to the DA. “I understand this is a difficult situation for you, sir, and I will completely understand if you believe terminating me from my position is the best way to save face for this office.”
“I’d be lying if I said we hadn’t been discussing that option,” Ward said.
Hobard didn’t look convinced. He did, however, seem more curious than he had only moments before. “Honestly, Simone, can you build an entirely new case against Paul Denton?”
“We owe it to Mara to try,” Simone said. “I get it. You’re all here at the gallows hoping I’ll be swinging in the wind in the next few minutes. You want my job that badly? Stick around. It might be yours.” She pulled out an envelope from her stack of papers and set it in the center of the table.
“Simone, what are you doing?” She felt certain Vince’s hand on her shoulder was meant to dissuade her, but instead, his support only emboldened her.
“I’m going into that court this afternoon and I’m going to get that continuance.” She stood and gathered her files. “If I don’t, then you have my resignation.”
Vince pushed his way past her and reached for the envelope.
“Leave it.” She touched his arm, lowered her voice. “It’s what has to be done.”
“You’re going to let these jerks push you into quitting?”
“Vince is right, Simone.” Jack joined in, followed by Santos. “This isn’t your fault. There’s no reason to fall on your sword to protect this office.”
“This isn’t about me. It’s about Mara. And it’s about convicting Paul Denton.” And anyone else he might be involved with. Their support meant more than she could say, but this was the only play she had. She looked at Hobard, who was staring at her in a way that made her squirm. “On the case or off, I’m going to find out who killed Mara and why. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an appearance to prepare for.”
Before Vince or anyone else could stop her, she walked out of the conference room, head held high. It wasn’t until she was safely back in her off
ice, seated at her desk, her gold fountain pen gripped tight in her hand, that she gave in to the fear.
How on earth was she going to pull this off?
* * *
“I don’t suppose either of you knew she was going to do that?” Vince followed Santos and a shell-shocked Jack out of the building. Never in a million years would he have expected Simone to threaten to resign her position. This job was everything to her. It was a part of her. Without it, she’d lose herself. As much as he’d resented her job in the past, he couldn’t let her do this.
“You mean did we know she was going to offer herself up on a silver platter? No freaking clue.” Jack scrubbed his hands down his face. “Any ideas what to do next?”
“No way is she going to win that continuance.” Santos motioned them to a more private area away from surveillance cameras. “Judge Buford’s good, but he’s also a realist. We all know rebuilding a case like this is next to impossible, especially if we can’t use evidence we’ve already gathered.”
“Then we need to find another way for her to win,” Vince said.
“You have an idea?” Jack’s eyes lit up.
“Kyla said this Buford judge is a stickler for professionalism. Would you agree?” Vince asked. His mind raced ahead of him. Oh, boy. It was a doozy of a plan, but if it worked...
“Definitely.” Santos eyed him warily. “His is the one courtroom my guys don’t play around with. It’s all business with Buford. What are you thinking?”
“That you’ll need plausible deniability.” Vince nodded. “I can work with this. Just gotta call one person and I can make it work. I’ll see you two in the courtroom at one.”
* * *
“If Cole finds out about this, I’ll be divorced even quicker than you were.” Eden tucked an errant strawberry blond curl under the black wig and checked her appearance in the visor mirror of his car.
Vince surprised himself by chuckling. “If it works, no one will be the wiser.” That said, if Simone found out he was about to manipulate her court case, she’d cut off his... “Five minutes should do it, ten if you can manage. Don’t push it. We want him late for court, not suspicious.”
“He’s a defense lawyer.” Eden checked her teeth and scrubbed off a smear of bloodred lipstick. “Suspicious is his middle name.” She pulled out a dark pencil and added a beauty mark above her lip. “What do you think?” She batted mascara-thick lashes at him.
Vince looked for the Eden he knew beneath the hair and makeup, not to mention the come-hither tank and push-up bra. “Can you even breathe in those jeans?”
“Men.” Eden’s lips curled. “Don’t you know we willingly sacrifice oxygen for the perfect look? Are you sure this is where he comes before court?”
“Kyla heard it straight from his paralegal’s lips,” Vince said. “Coffee run fifteen minutes before court. Double shot, double sweet espresso with an almond biscotti.”
“And a diabetes chaser no doubt. I keep telling Simone I’m going to steal that assistant of hers,” Eden mumbled as she readjusted herself. “But no, the girl has to have her heart set on being a lawyer.”
“Nobody’s perfect. You good to go?”
“If I don’t break my ankles in these shoes.”
Vince looked down at the floorboard. Her wedge sandals looked tame compared to the stilts Simone often wore, shoes that played a supporting role in the erotic fantasies that had been playing in his head since this morning. He spotted a black luxury sedan pull into the lot beside the shop. “There he is.”
“You sure?” Eden squinted from their spot across the street. “He even looks like a stooge.”
Truer words were never spoken. “Hop to.”
“Yes, sir!” She saluted and got out of the car. Once she got five steps away, she stopped, circled back and leaned in through the open window. “One thing. I don’t know what you and Simone have got going on, but you hurt her again, I’m coming after you. And you know what I do to people who hurt my friends.”
“I do indeed.” He’d read the papers. “And understood.”
“Good.” She patted the car and headed across the street. She’d added some kind of testosterone-boosting wiggle that had him blushing. Forget Cole divorcing Eden. If the detective found out about Vince employing his wife as a decoy, he’d be in big trouble.
Vince set his phone on the dash. Twelve forty-five. Twelve fifty. Twelve fifty-five. “Okay, Eden. That should do it.” Vince tapped his fingers on the console. “Don’t press our luck.”
The door swung open and out flitted Eden, coffee cups in both hands, a bright smile on her painted lips, and a rotund, flustered-looking Silvio Poltanic trailing behind.
Eden laughed, threw her whole body into it and bent forward. As expected, she drew Poltanic’s gaze south. When she popped back up, she jerked her hands. The lids flew off the cups. Coffee spewed and landed all over Poltanic’s tailored suit and tie.
Vince smiled. He admired Eden’s purposeful ineptitude. She tried to help the lawyer, even attempted to use her shirt to wipe off his, but he hoisted his own bag and coffee out of the way and raced over to his car. Horns blared as he left skid marks out of the parking lot.
Eden scurried across the street, ducked into the car and ripped the wig off. “How are we on time?”
“Five after one. You are a genius.”
“Now that you can tell Cole. Just don’t fill in the details.” She kicked off her shoes, shook out her hair, but thankfully left the clothes in place. “You can drop me off at the station. No, wait.” She dug around in her bag and let out a sigh of relief. “Sweatshirt. Okay. Yeah. Station, please. Then get your butt to court. I bet you don’t want to miss this.”
* * *
“All rise.”
Simone stood, butterflies the size of pigeons fluttering in her stomach. Paul Denton did the same from his place at the defense table. She didn’t see his family in court, but that wasn’t surprising considering the last-minute scheduling. Where was Denton’s attorney? His poor client looked apoplectic.
“Where’s Vince?” she asked Jack and Lieutenant Santos, who were seated directly behind her. After his defense of her in the office, she’d expected him to be here.
“No idea,” Jack said.
When the doors opened, her hopes soared, but instead of Vince, DA Ward Lawson and Cal Hobard strode in. They didn’t sit, but stood at the back wall, unreadable expressions on their faces.
“They may as well be holding a scythe,” she mumbled.
“Keep the faith,” Jack said.
Judge Buford banged his gavel on the bench. “Miss Armstrong. You’ve had a difficult weekend.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“I appreciate you making the time to be here this afternoon given the circumstances.” He motioned to the court reporter to stop. “Would you please convey my sympathies to Miss Orlov’s family. It’s a tragedy to lose someone so young, not to mention conscientious.”
“Of course, Your Honor.” The beautiful sentiment wasn’t lost on her. He couldn’t say more and keep his objectivity where the case was concerned, which only made the statement more powerful. “I’m certain they’ll appreciate it.”
He motioned to the reporter again. “Mr. Denton? May I ask where your attorney is? This hearing is being held at his request after all.”
“I have no idea.” Paul Denton stood, his hands shaking. “I only know he told me my case would be dismissed this afternoon.”
Judge Buford tilted his glasses down. “Did he now?”
“Your Honor, I’m happy to give the defense additional time to make an appearance,” Simone offered.
“You might be, Miss Armstrong, but the court is not. I assume you have a motion of your own?”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Whatever was going on with Poltanic, she didn’t care
. “While the state fully admits the loss of Miss Orlov and her testimony damages our case against the defendant, we respectfully request a continuance so we can reevaluate our strategy.”
“It’s the court’s understanding that the evidence you planned to use was to be authenticated by Miss Orlov. Are you saying you have additional evidence you can present in its place?”
“I’m working on it, Your Honor.”
“By yourself?”
“Lieutenant Santos and Detectives Jack McTavish and Cole Delaney are working with me. I’ve also hired a private investigator at my own expense. I realize this is asking a lot of the court, but the charges against the defendant are significant enough to warrant careful examination.”
“He’s also entitled to a fair and speedy trial.”
“Agreed, Your Honor.”
“Mr. District Attorney, I see you lurking there.” Judge Buford waved his fingers. “Approach, please.”
“Sir.” Ward did as was asked and pushed away from the wall to stand beside Simone. “I’d like to add that Ms. Armstrong has the full support of my office behind her. Whatever she needs, we’ll make sure she has at her disposal.”
“You will?” Jack coughed to cover his comment.
“Hmmm.” Judge Buford eyed the courtroom. Simone’s pulse hammered. She wouldn’t follow his line of sight, wouldn’t remind herself that pesky Benedict Russell was hunkered in the back row, scribbling furiously for the next morning’s edition of the Journal. “While I did grant you an extension last Thursday, I’m afraid given the circumstances that would be an undue hardship on the defendant.”
Simone’s spirits dipped. “Of course, Your Honor. We understand.”
“I’m inclined to deny the request—”
“Wait!” The doors to the courtroom burst open and Silvio Poltanic dived in. He tripped over his own feet racing to the defense table. “I’m here! I apologize, Your Honor. There was this woman, with these—” He cupped his hands over his chest, his face going red. “She had these legs.” His hands went to his ears. “And coffee, coffee everywhere as you can see.” Poltanic wiped his hands down his coffee-stained pants and shirt.
Reunited with the P.I. Page 15