by Brenda Novak
“What time was this?”
“Three-twenty. I glanced at the clock on my microwave when I got the keys to my car.”
“Did Kalyna tell you anything about her ordeal?”
Maria seemed to be loosening up. “No. She sat shivering and rocking in the passenger seat as I drove. I had to put her seat belt on for her because she was, like…dazed. It was scary.”
“Did she say who’d raped her?”
“She said it was Captain Trussell.”
“Are you familiar with the captain?”
“I’ve seen him on base, but we’ve never been introduced.”
“Then how do you know who he is?”
Her lips curved in a slight smile. “Word travels fast when you’re as good-looking as he is. The single women all talk about him. Besides, he’s friends with another officer, Weston Anderson, who’s married to a girlfriend of mine.” She twisted off the cap to her water. “And…”
“And?”
“Kalyna mentioned him to me one time.”
Maria seemed reluctant again. “Do you remember when that was?”
“A week or two before the incident.”
“What’d she say?” Ava felt as if she was tugging the information out of Maria, but at least Kalyna’s neighbor was still with her, still responding.
“She was on her way out when I met her in the hall. I asked her if she had plans for the evening—you know, the regular chitchat you do with neighbors—and she said she had a date with a pilot. I asked her who it was, and she said Captain Trussell.”
A date? Kalyna had given Ava the impression that they’d never been out together prior to meeting up at the Moby Dick. “So she had some interest in him before that night?”
“Definitely. And she was giddy with the thrill of letting me know she had what so many other women want.” She grimaced. “But the fact that she was excited about being with him—proud, even—makes what he did to her all the worse.”
“You believe Kalyna, then. You have no doubt she’s telling the truth?”
Maria tapped her fingers against her water bottle. Ba-ba-bump. Ba-ba-bump. “Of course I believe her, don’t you? I mean, why would she lie about something like that?”
“It happens.”
She shook her head. “No, I saw her. She was definitely traumatized. And somebody beat her up.”
“You don’t think she could’ve done it to herself?”
Her jaw dropped. “What? No!”
“That’s what I needed to hear. Thanks for talking with me.” Ava handed her a card. “This is where you can reach me if you have anything to add.”
“That’s it? We’re done?”
“We’re done. Unless there’s something else you’d like to tell me….”
“Oh…no. Nothing else. Thanks for the water.” She grabbed her keys and started out in a hurry, but her footsteps slowed as she got to the door, and she turned back. “Ms. Bixby?”
Ava had been watching her, wondering about her true feelings toward Kalyna. “Yes?” she said hopefully.
Maria stared at her feet, then frowned. “There’s one thing that sort of bothers me.”
“What is it?”
“I—I didn’t mention it to the prosecutor or the defense lawyer because, well, I keep telling myself it doesn’t have any bearing on the case. But—” biting her lip, she moved close again and lowered her voice “—I feel sort of guilty about keeping it to myself.”
At last, they were getting somewhere. Ava waved her back into her seat. “What is it, Maria?”
She sat down and leaned halfway across the table. “What I told you about Kalyna and men?”
“You said she was too friendly.”
“I might’ve understated it a bit. She…she sleeps around a lot.”
Ava pushed her smoothie aside. “You know that even though she’s not bringing men to her apartment?”
Maria sighed. “Yeah, I know—because she’s not ashamed to admit it. She’s a self-proclaimed nympho who brags about her exploits.”
“What kind of exploits?”
She hadn’t bragged to Ava. She’d acted quite innocent.
“Kinky stuff.”
“Are you sure it’s not all talk? Something to get attention? To shock you?”
“I don’t think so.” She wiped the condensation from her water bottle. “One time I invited her over for a drink,” she explained. “We got to talking, and she asked if I’d ever been with another woman.” She checked behind her, as if she was afraid she’d be overheard, even though they were the only customers in the shop and she was already whispering. “When I said no, she asked if I was ever tempted to see what it would be like.”
“You think she’s gay?” If Kalyna was a lesbian, that would explain why she’d tried to put on the brakes with Trussell. Maybe she showed interest in men as a front; maybe she overcompensated with the whole nympho routine.
“I doubt it. It’s definitely men she likes. This was just a way to get me intrigued, show me how daring she is.”
Their conversation was doing little to build Ava’s confidence in Kalyna Harter, which was a disappointment. She didn’t want to be faced with a difficult dilemma. If Kalyna had really been victimized, she’d need Ava’s full support. But Ava couldn’t ignore this. She had to see her client realistically. “Why do you feel this is relevant?” she asked.
Maria held up a hand. “I’m not done yet. When she asked me if I’d ever…you know…I joked that the only way I could get interested in another woman was if there was a man involved.”
“A threesome.”
She blushed. “Yeah.”
“And what did Kalyna say to that?”
“She said she’d like to include me sometime.” Maria tore at the label on her water bottle. “I didn’t believe Trussell was all that interested in her, so I asked her if she could convince him to join us. I wanted to see if she’d been lying about him before.”
“And?”
Her chest rose as she drew in a deep breath. “She smiled as if she was eager for the challenge and promised me she’d do it.”
“Is that what she was attempting to arrange on June 6?”
“If so, she never called me. Maybe she knew I wasn’t serious. Maybe she wasn’t serious, either.” Maria held her long hair off her neck and fanned herself. The day was so hot, the air-conditioning wasn’t helping enough, and this was a conversation she clearly didn’t want to be having. “But when the whole rape thing came up and Trussell’s name was brought into it—that gave me a funny feeling. I knew Kalyna would love to be with him. So why would she invite him to her apartment and then tell him no? I honestly can’t imagine him having to force her. Not the way she was talking.”
“There could be a lot of reasons she changed her mind.” Ava managed a smile. But the fact that Kalyna had been discussing Captain Trussell in such a light—and well in advance of the incident—troubled her, too. The defense would certainly make an issue of it if they found out.
“I didn’t mean it, so she probably didn’t, either,” Maria said again.
Ava fell back on the pictures she’d seen and the fact that there wouldn’t have been time for someone else to enter Kalyna’s apartment after Trussell left. Kalyna’s testimony had been convincing, too. They’d gone over the incident in two separate meetings, and Kalyna had cried during both. “It doesn’t matter if she was the pursuer, Maria. At some point, she wanted to bail out, and he resorted to violence. There’s no excuse for that.”
“Right. I agree. So…I don’t need to tell anyone else about…about that embarrassing discussion? I mean, if someone were to interpret it the wrong way, it could ruin my career. You know how the military is, the whole ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ thing.”
“If someone in authority questions you about it, you need to be honest.”
“But what if I’m not asked? I haven’t been asked about it yet.”
And she’d only spoken of it once. Now.
Ava felt
a twinge of conscience, but she had no intention of helping the defense. She’d been through this before and allowed her loyalty to be shaken. Bella had taken her own life when she couldn’t get anyone to believe her. Ava wouldn’t let that happen to another soul. Kalyna’s sexual habits and preferences didn’t matter, not if she’d tried to say no to Trussell and he’d ignored her. “I don’t see why you’d need to volunteer the information.”
Smiling in relief, Maria tossed her keys in the air and caught them, finally relaxed. “Thank God. I wish I’d never been stupid enough to have that conversation. Imagine what the other airmen would make of it,” she said with an awkward laugh.
They’d wonder, as Ava did, if Maria wasn’t hiding more than she wanted to admit. But Maria’s sexuality had nothing to do with this case or anything else. No reason to drag that into it.
“Don’t worry,” she said, and waved goodbye. Then she sat at the table a while longer, contemplating what Maria had shared. Obviously, Kalyna wasn’t someone with an impeccable reputation. Her image was tainted, and she wasn’t particularly well liked. That might be a challenge to the prosecution. But even those who were less than perfect deserved justice when they were wronged.
Wanting to discuss the situation with someone else, she took her cell from her purse and called Jonathan Stivers, the private investigator who helped out with so many of their cases at The Last Stand. He did a lot of pro bono work but they used him so often they paid him when they could. Fortunately, like them, he cared more about the people who needed his help than he did about living in luxury, so he kept his charges in the survival range.
“Hello?”
“Jonathan, it’s Ava.”
His voice warmed. “What’s up?”
“I have a job for you.”
“You always have a job for me. Do you ever have any fun?” he teased.
“No.”
“That’s what I would’ve guessed.”
“Just because I act like an adult and you don’t?”
“You don’t have to work around the clock to be an adult,” he said.
“A lot of people are counting on me. I have a responsibility to them.”
“Did you ever think you might be letting yourself down?”
Perhaps. But she didn’t really know how to remedy that, and there was so much to do each day. Besides, the more she worked, the less time she had to think about herself. She’d been busy trying to wrap up a few older cases so she could concentrate on Kalyna Harter’s, or she would’ve called Jonathan about Captain Trussell sooner. “I’m happy the way I am,” she insisted.
“So what do you need?” he asked. “Proof that your boyfriend spends more hours at work than you do?”
A mother and her young son came in, and Ava lowered her voice. “Quit it. Geoffrey’s an up-and-coming land developer. That takes time and dedication.”
“He’s not right for you.”
With a fleeting smile for the child who glanced at her, she turned away. “And that friend you’ve been trying to set me up with is?”
“Justin’s a good guy. I think you’d like him.”
“I met him at the Christmas party.”
“You need to date other people before you do something stupid, like marry Geoffrey.”
“I’m not going to marry Geoffrey.” A permanent commitment couldn’t be further from her mind. She’d witnessed her mother’s marriages, feared she was just as incapable of sustaining a long-term relationship.
“You might do it by default,” he said.
“No chance.”
“Then why are you wasting your time?”
Because she was lonely enough to settle for comfortable and because she hadn’t met a better candidate—and that included Jon’s friend from the gym. “Enough already. I need you to do a background check for me.”
He hesitated as if reluctant to let her change the subject but ultimately took the bait. “What’s the name?”
“Captain Luke Trussell. I don’t know where he was born, but he’s a pilot stationed at Travis Air Force Base.”
Jonathan whistled. “Sounds impressive—an officer and a gentleman. What’re the charges?”
Bowing her head so no one would be able to hear her, she said, “Rape.”
“Okay, so maybe he’s not a gentleman.”
“We’ll see,” she said, and dumped her melted smoothie in the garbage as she headed for the door
“I’ll look into it.”
“The sooner the better on this one, huh?”
“You say that on every case,” he complained, and hung up.
“Because every case is important,” she grumbled. And this one promised to be more difficult than most.
5
Luke was just walking out the door of his apartment on Wednesday afternoon when the phone rang. He turned back to pick it up but hesitated when his caller ID showed The Last Stand.
That was the name of the victims’ charity his attorney had warned him about.
Nervously swinging his keys around and around his finger, he let the answering machine pick up. It kicked in on the sixth ring. A few seconds later, a woman’s voice reverberated his living room.
“Captain Trussell, this is Ava Bixby. I’m with The Last Stand, a victims’ charity in Sacramento. I’ve been contacted by Sergeant Kalyna Harter. She told me an unsettling story about the time you spent together on June 6. Before I get too involved in this case, I’d like to hear your version of the encounter. If you can spare a minute, please call me.”
She left her cell-phone number, as well as her office number.
Luke’s hand hovered over the handset. Ms. Bixby sounded open-minded, as if she hadn’t yet decided to go after him. But he couldn’t pick up. The best defense lawyer in Sacramento had warned him against talking to her.
After he was sure she’d hung up, he called McCreedy.
“It’s Luke Trussell,” he said when his attorney came on the line.
“Hello, Captain Trussell. How are you today?” McCreedy responded.
It was easy to be pleasant when you weren’t the one on the hot seat, Luke thought. “Anxious.”
“How can I allay your fears?”
“I’m not sure you can. Ava Bixby, from The Last Stand, just called.”
“You didn’t give her any details, did you?”
“None. I didn’t even answer.”
“Good.”
Luke kept twirling his keys. “Why is that good? She said she wants to hear my side, and I’d really like to tell her.”
“It’s a trap. She’s hoping to catch you in a weak moment, get you to say something that can be used against you later. Trust me, Captain Trussell, she’s called a victims’ advocate for a reason.”
But McCreedy was dispensing advice based on a false premise—that Luke might be lying. Most defendants lied, didn’t they? They couldn’t be honest, not if they expected to stay out of prison.
“This case is different,” he argued. “I’m not like most of your other clients. I have nothing to hide, so I don’t see how it can hurt to talk to Ava Bixby.”
“All my clients are innocent until proven guilty. And you could do a world of damage.”
“But if I didn’t rape Kalyna, how can anything I say hurt me?”
“Depending on her level of motivation, Ms. Bixby could misinterpret a comment or two, or even misrepresent what you said.”
“But if I don’t respond, she’ll assume the worst. Anyone would.”
“No, she’ll assume you have good representation,” he said. “Because you do.”
At that point, Luke gave up trying to convince McCreedy. He was paying the man for a reason. He needed to trust his advice.
Fifteen minutes later, driving to the gym, he was telling himself he’d done the right thing. But it didn’t make any difference. He couldn’t stop thinking about Ava Bixby and her message, so he turned around and went home. He wanted to learn more about The Last Stand, and he was too impatient to put it off a coupl
e of hours.
Tossing his keys on the counter as soon as he walked through the door, he went directly to his computer.
Google provided a whole list of links on the charity, mostly newspaper articles citing how various individuals from the organization had found missing persons, helped convict sex offenders and murderers, protected abused spouses.
The praise lavished on them made Luke nervous. McCreedy had said they were “dogged” that seemed to be true. But would they go after an innocent man with the same dogged determination they’d go after a guilty man? Would they bother to notice the difference?
One link that came up went to the official Last Stand Web site—TheLastStandVictimsCharity.com. There, he saw their mission statement posted on the home page: To help victims of violent crime find justice, safety and peace of mind.
It sounded noble. Several other paragraphs detailed the need for such an organization and made a plea for financial support. There was even a way to donate directly through the site via a secure server.
Luke would probably have given them a couple hundred bucks had he stumbled upon the site at another time, but right now he was afraid his money would end up being used against him.
Surfing through a few of the other pages, he pulled up information on the staff. According to what was posted, only three people, all of them women, worked full-time in the Sacramento office. Unfortunately, the Web site didn’t include pictures of these “directors,” as they were called, but he found a short bio on each one. Ava had been born and raised in Northern California. She’d graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Stanford University with a B.A. in psychology, and she’d gotten involved with The Last Stand through volunteering.
Luke stared at the short paragraph he’d just read. She seemed smart. But could he trust her? Would she have an ear for the truth or even care about it? Or had she been so convinced by Kalyna that she’d care only about chalking up another conviction?
He needed someone to listen, to stop this travesty of justice before it went any further. He wanted to resume his life, get back to flying.
He called the office number Ava had left on his machine.
A pleasant voice answered. “The Last Stand.”
“Is Ava Bixby in?”