Gone Again: A Jack Swyteck Novel

by James Grippando

  “What?”

  “Remind me to tell you the story of when Neil sent me all the way to Tallahassee to cover a hearing for him—and I went to the wrong courthouse.”

  She managed a semblance of a smile. “Thanks,” she said.

  “No problem,” said Jack, as he opened the door. “We’ll deal with it.”

  CHAPTER 34

  Jack was in Courtroom 3 at noon. Jury selection in Judge Frederick’s five-week conspiracy trial had entered its second day, and the lunch hour was the judge’s only window to accommodate the prosecutor’s request to call Gavin Burgette back to the witness stand.

  “Exactly what is the issue?” the judge asked.

  The courtroom was quiet. Dozens of prospective jurors had vacated the public seating area to hit the nearest fast-food joint and return before one o’clock. Judge Frederick was on the bench, but no way was he going to skip lunch, his gavel in one hand and a ham sandwich in the other.

  Jack spoke first. “Judge, last night Debra Burgette signed an affidavit describing how Carlos Mendoza had means, motive, and opportunity to abduct Sashi Burgette. The prosecution’s failure to disclose this evidence to Mr. Reeves before his trial is a violation of his constitutional rights and requires a new trial.”

  “Then why was the affidavit filed by the prosecution?” the judge asked.

  Jack was about to explain Hannah’s mistake, but the prosecutor beat him to the punch.

  “The state of Florida is taking the bull by the horns,” said Carmichael, “with an emphasis on bull. Debra Burgette’s affidavit is replete with falsehoods, including accusations against her ex-husband. We would like the opportunity to put Mr. Burgette back on the witness stand. His testimony will demonstrate that the petitioner has no real evidence to support his request for a new trial. At most, this is a he said/she said battle of conflicting testimony that belongs in divorce court.”

  “Permission granted to file a counter-affidavit from Gavin Burgette,” the judge said.

  “We prefer to present live testimony. We have subpoenaed Mr. Burgette for that purpose.”

  Gavin’s lawyer stepped up to the rail in the first row of public seating behind Jack. “Excuse me, Your Honor,” said Nicole.

  “Who are you?” asked the judge.

  “Nicole Thompson, with the law firm of Thompson and Tuttle, Your Honor. I represented Mr. Burgette in his divorce, and I am his counsel here today. We oppose the subpoena.”

  “On what basis?”

  “Judge, Mr. Burgette took the high road in his divorce. Debra Burgette’s affidavit revisits wild accusations that my client chose to resolve privately in a confidential divorce settlement. My client has no interest in trading insults and accusations with his wife in open court.”

  “His testimony is crucial,” said the prosecutor. “It will show that Debra Burgette is not a credible witness. Your Honor should completely disregard all of her testimony and deny the petitioner’s request for relief.”

  “I object,” said Jack.

  “You object? I’m in day two of jury selection in my biggest trial of the year, and I barely have time to grab a sandwich for lunch. But the state is entitled to present evidence in opposition to the petition. Right now is the only availability on my calendar. Mr. Burgette, I’m sorry if you feel like this is an unnecessary intrusion into your privacy, but another man’s life is at stake. I’ll give you twenty minutes, Ms. Carmichael. Call your witness.”

  She did, and Jack watched as Gavin Burgette walked to the witness stand and swore the oath. Jack also noticed that neither Debra nor her daughter Aquinnah was anywhere in the empty courtroom.

  The prosecutor handed the judge and the witness a copy of Debra’s affidavit, and her questioning began. In staccato fashion, the prosecutor’s questions and the witness’s rapid-fire answers refuted Debra’s written testimony as lies.

  “At paragraph two, Debra Burgette stated under oath that it was your idea to rehome Sashi. Is that a true statement?”

  “Not true.”

  “Paragraph three. She stated that you were the one who initially contacted Carlos Mendoza. Is that a true statement?”

  “Not true.”

  “Paragraph four states that you threatened to divorce her if she did not sign the necessary legal documents to rehome your daughter. True?”

  “Not true.”

  “Paragraph five: that you delivered the power of attorney to Mr. Mendoza.”

  “Not true.”

  “Six: that Mr. Mendoza made arrangements for you to meet a couple from Tampa who were willing to rehome Sashi.”

  “Not true.”

  The same question-and-answer format continued for several minutes. Finally, the prosecutor laid Debra Burgette’s sworn affidavit aside, the witness having refuted his wife’s every factual assertion.

  “No further questions,” said Carmichael, and she returned to a seat at her table.

  “Mr. Swyteck, you have ten minutes for cross-examination,” the judge said.

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” he said as he approached the witness.

  Jack didn’t know if the judge would believe Gavin or Debra, but the prosecutor had been right in one respect: a battle of he said/she said was not Dylan Reeves’ ticket to a new trial. Jack would have to push through the conflict and score in a big way if he was going to leave Judge Frederick’s courtroom with any hope of finding the truth—and of keeping his client alive. He had his doubts about Debra, but she wasn’t even in the courtroom, much less on the witness stand. If he was going to cut through this logjam, it would have to be through Gavin.

  “Mr. Burgette, you testified at Dylan Reeves’ trial, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  Even his one-word response hissed with anger. Gavin seemed to recognize that this was Jack’s last shot, and that Jack would be coming after him.

  “And you attended each day of the trial?” asked Jack.

  “Didn’t miss a single one.”

  “Your testimony was that on the day Sashi disappeared, you were out of town on a business trip.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You arrived home after dark, around eight o’clock?”

  “Yes.”

  “By that time, your wife was already concerned about Sashi. Isn’t that right?”

  “That was my testimony, yes.”

  “She had called you three times?”

  “I don’t recall the exact number. More than once.”

  “When you got home, you tried to calm her down.”

  “I tried.”

  Jack opened the trial transcript to the pertinent page. “You testified as follows: ‘Debra and I searched the house for anything that might tell us where Sashi had gone.’ Is that still your recollection?”

  “It is.”

  “You, personally, looked in Sashi’s bedroom, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “You found nothing helpful.”

  “Nothing.”

  Jack paused, then continued. “At trial, you heard your wife testify that it was very unusual for Sashi to leave the house without her cell phone.”

  “Yes.”

  Jack had the relevant portion of the trial transcript in hand. “And you also testified that Sashi, quote, ‘never left the house without her cell.’ Correct?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  Jack laid the transcript aside, stepped closer to the witness, and faced him squarely. “Around ten o’clock, your wife went back upstairs to check Sashi’s room again. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Only then did she find Sashi’s phone?”

  “Right.”

  “That’s when Debra called the police. Because she knew it was very strange that Sashi would be without her cell for almost an entire day.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “So, when you got home and went upstairs to check your daughter’s room, you didn’t see Sashi’s cell?”

  “Obviously, I didn’t.”

  �
�Is it obvious?” Jack asked, his tone more assertive than inquisitive. “Or did you put it there?”

  The prosecutor sprang from her chair. “Objection. That’s an accusation, not a question, and it’s completely baseless.”

  “Overruled,” said the judge. “Mr. Swyteck, I assume that you will establish some basis for this line of questioning. And let me also remind you that you have all of five minutes left. The witness may answer.”

  “No,” said Gavin, scoffing. “I didn’t plant Sashi’s cell phone in her room, if that’s what you’re asking. That’s preposterous.”

  Jack retrieved Gavin’s call detail report, which was already in evidence as an exhibit. “Mr. Burgette, your call record shows that, on the day Sashi disappeared, at eleven-oh-seven a.m., you called Carlos Mendoza. You don’t deny making that call, do you?”

  “I made it.”

  “You also admit that you spoke to Mr. Mendoza. Am I right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You made a deal with Mr. Mendoza, didn’t you?”

  “Objection, Your Honor.”

  “The witness can handle himself here,” said the judge. “Overruled.”

  “I did exactly the opposite,” said Gavin. “My recollection is that Mr. Mendoza had contacted Debra the day before. I called to tell him to stop bothering my wife.”

  “That’s all you told him?”

  “That’s all I recall.”

  Jack checked the call report, then handed it to the witness. “It took you six minutes to tell him that?”

  He checked the exhibit. “Apparently. That’s what the call report says.”

  “Are you aware that the entire Gettysburg Address was delivered in less than two minutes?”

  “Objection,” said Carmichael, groaning.

  “Sustained. But your point is noted, Mr. Swyteck.”

  Jack retrieved Debra’s call report, which also was already in evidence. “Your wife’s call report shows that the final incoming call from Carlos Mendoza was three days before Sashi disappeared. Do you read it any differently?” he asked, as he handed the witness the exhibit.

  Gavin checked the report. “It appears that your reading is correct.”

  “So it took you three days to get around to calling Mr. Mendoza to tell him to stop harassing your wife? Do I have that right?”

  “Objection.”

  “Overruled. I’d like to hear the answer to that.”

  “As I mentioned before, this was a very busy time for me.”

  Jack continued in an assertive tone, but not too accusatory, mindful of the fact that he was questioning the victim’s father. “Mr. Burgette, on the day Sashi disappeared, you weren’t on a business trip, were you?”

  “I think I’ve already answered that.”

  “The truth is that you were with Sashi. Isn’t that right, sir?”

  “No, that’s not right.”

  “Sashi had her cell phone with her on that day, like she always did. Isn’t that so?”

  “I don’t know. Like I said, I wasn’t with her.”

  “You took Sashi’s phone from her when you delivered her to Mr. Mendoza. Isn’t that what really happened?”

  His eyes narrowed, and Jack was beginning to see the angry side of Gavin that he hadn’t seen since their first meeting in Neil’s kitchen. “No,” he said, in a low, threatening tone. “That’s not what happened.”

  “When Sashi had run away from home in the past, both you and your wife had used the GPS tracking chip in her cell phone to find her. Isn’t that a fact, Mr. Burgette?”

  “Yes,” he said, his anger continuing to build. “We did. It didn’t always work, because sometimes Sashi would turn the power off or the battery would run out.”

  “So if Sashi had kept her cell phone with her, and if the power was on, you or your wife could have located her on the day she disappeared. Correct?”

  “I suppose that’s possible.”

  “That’s why you took Sashi’s cell phone away from her.”

  Gavin Burgette glanced at that judge, then glared at Jack. “I categorically deny that I did any such thing.”

  “It was you who put Sashi’s cell in her bedroom when you got home around eight o’clock that night.”

  “No.”

  “That’s why Debra didn’t see it earlier when she checked Sashi’s bedroom.”

  “I don’t know why Debra didn’t see it.”

  “You let Debra report to the police that Sashi had run away from home.”

  “I . . . yes. I didn’t stop her.”

  “Because a false police report was better than telling her what you had really done.”

  “Objection,” said Carmichael. “Judge, this is bordering on harassment.”

  “Sustained. You have one minute, Mr. Swyteck.”

  Jack took another step closer. He wasn’t surprised that the judge had sustained the objection. However, instinct told him that Gavin was hiding something, and as unpleasant as it was to go after him as a witness, Jack knew that he was going to have to take one more shot to get to the truth.

  “Mr. Burgette, you made a deal with Carlos Mendoza. You rehomed your daughter. And you took her phone so that Debra couldn’t figure out what you had done or where you had taken Sashi. Isn’t that the truth, sir?”

  “Objection,” said the prosecutor. “Judge, really . . .”

  “Yes,” the judge said. “Your questions assume too much, Mr. Swyteck. It has yet to be established or even alleged that the Burgettes did anything more than consider rehoming their daughter.”

  “Debra did,” said the witness.

  Jack froze, as did everyone else in the courtroom. It was suddenly quiet enough to hear the inrush of cool air from the AC vents.

  The judge peered down from the bench, his gaze locking on the witness. “Debra did what, sir?”

  The witness drew a breath, then spoke like a man who’d held a secret too long, his voice filled with more regret than accusation. “Debra rehomed Sashi.”

  Judge Frederick glanced at the lawyers, as if to acknowledge that this was a game changer, and then he continued with the witness. “With or without your consent, sir?”

  “I . . . I considered it, okay? Our family was falling apart. Torn apart, really. Sashi was . . . her illness was killing us. It got to the point that both Debra and I did sign a power of attorney. But I changed my mind. We agreed that it was wrong. That was how we’d left it. Then something must have happened when I was gone.”

  “When did you find out that your wife had actually rehomed Sashi?” the judge asked.

  He was gazing at the floor, a beaten man. “The school called and told me that Sashi was absent again—which, frankly, was nothing out of the ordinary. Sashi was always cutting school. Debra would drop her off, and three or four hours later we’d find her at Starbucks or the movie theater. I was away on business, so I called Debra to tell her to handle it. Right away, I got the sense that something was very wrong. She told me that she and Sashi had a terrible argument on the way to school. In fact they never made it to the school. At first, she gave me the story that traffic was bad and Sashi got out to walk the rest of the way. But that was just a story. It took a while, but finally Debra confessed to me. She’d reached the breaking point: she rehomed Sashi.”

  “Rehomed her with whom?”

  His voice shook as he answered. “Carlos Mendoza. That six-minute phone call on Friday morning, the one that you pointed out was longer than the Gettysburg Address—that was me trying to undo what Debra had done. I was trying to get my daughter back home. Not rehomed.”

  Gavin’s lawyer rose from her seat in the public gallery. “Judge, may I please confer with my client? There may be Fifth Amendment rights that should be asserted here.”

  “It’s the truth,” the witness said in a hollow voice, barely audible. “I swear it is. I swear.”

  “Mr. Burgette, there is no question pending,” the judge said, “and I strongly encourage you to confer with counsel before you speak
another word.”

  Then the judge’s glare fixed on the prosecutor. “As soon as my jury selection concludes this afternoon, I intend to read the transcript of Mr. Swyteck’s deposition of Carlos Mendoza—as far as it went, anyway, before it was shut down. And I want everyone in my chambers at six p.m. this evening, including the counsel for Mr. Mendoza, whom I will have my law clerk notify immediately. The witness is ordered to remain within Miami–Dade County. We are adjourned,” he said with a crack of his gavel.

  “All rise!”

  The judge grabbed what remained of his sandwich, stepped down from the bench, and walked briskly toward the side door to his chambers.

  Jack watched in silence. His mind was awhirl, but his thoughts settled on those last few words that Gavin Burgette had uttered—seemingly to no one. Jack was struck by their similarity to words he’d heard from Debra.

  “This is the truth. I swear it is, Jack. I swear to it.”

  The paneled door closed with a thud, and the judge was gone. The prosecutor gathered her briefcase, pushed through the gate without a word to Jack, and hurried to the rear exit. Gavin Burgette stepped down from the witness stand and huddled with his lawyer in private on the opposite side of the courtroom, near the empty jury box.

  Jack packed up his laptop and stepped away from the table, wondering if he was even beginning to hear “the truth.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Andie had a visitor at the Miami field office. It was mid-afternoon, and she’d just finished a phone conference with an assistant United States attorney over a request for a wiretap when the receptionist buzzed her on the intercom.

  “There’s a Debra Burgette here to see you.”

  Given the fact that Debra was a key witness in Jack’s case, Andie could have simply said that she was unavailable. But the fact that Andie couldn’t be involved didn’t mean she had to be rude. She’d spent too many hours with victims and their families to opt for the total brush-off.

  “I’ll come out,” she told the receptionist.

  The shortcut from Andie’s office to the lobby was through the narcotics unit, and she wasn’t surprised to see that somebody had finally made them take down the So Many Colombians, So Little Time bumper sticker that had been pushpinned onto the bulletin board. By the time she reached the secured door at the end of the hallway and buzzed herself through to the lobby, she’d formulated several polite ways to tell Debra that she couldn’t meet with her.