Mistletoe and Murder in Las Vegas
Page 16
His dad says any lawyer with just cause can request Mike’s old phone records & he’ll put through a rush subpoena to that cell phone carrier.
Kenneth Day submits a subpoena for Paula’s text attachment on a rush turnaround.
By five p.m., Mike and his dad are reviewing the attachment: A picture of a cell phone screen with the message: Need more Mac computers. Big T
Mike immediately recognizes the nickname of an L.A. biker, Big T. A street-savvy criminal, Big T ducked the ATF for years until eight months ago when Mike and other agents finally arrested Big T for interstate transportation of illegal firearms. Big T, now out on bond, is currently awaiting trial. Mike knows Big T wasn’t talking about computers in this message—Mac, slang for gun, meant he wanted to buy more guns. During her relationship with Mike, Paula had heard that slang term, knew about Big T, so she would have understood what the message meant.
That was the dangerous information she learned. Whoever owned that phone learned that Paula knew too much and staged her death by arson with the watch-device.
Mike pulls Big T’s cell phone number from a database and calls him. After reading Big T the text message, Mike offers him a deal: Tell Mike who Big T was buying guns from, and Mike will put in a good word with the federal prosecutor in Big T’s case. If he fully cooperates, Mike will ask for Big T to get probation without serving any time.
Big T tells him he had been buying guns from Harley.
All the pieces fall into place. Harley is around six foot tall. Harley would have the expertise to break into a building and the know-how to rig a watch-device, which he used to throw off investigators because they’d assume it had been the work of an amateur. Maggie once barked at a cabinet at Joanne’s office because the dog had picked up on a familiar scent: Harley’s.
And Harley would have been smart enough to have researched an excellent candidate—Dita, with her hired-torch-father and her ties to an eco-terrorist group known for their arson tactics--to be a foil. Now Mike realizes that the headline seen on Harley’s computer screen must have been bait. Harley probably kept a stream of Vegas news rolling on his screen, knowing that Mike, after reading the headline about a watch device being used in the Vegas arson, wouldn’t go on vacation but head straight to Las Vegas.
Mike asks his dad if it’s possible, legally, to expedite Harley being brought to justice in time to help Joanne. As Archie Benning devises a legal strategy, Mike realizes the depth of his dad’s intelligence and compassion. He’s finally understanding his father.
* * *
The next morning were closing arguments.
Mike arrived before the trial began and sat next to Joanne at the defense table. She hadn’t answered his calls or texts, so no surprise she refused to talk to him. But he’d prepared for that. He handed her a note, telling her it contained information that will win her case, but if her dyslexia is troubling her, he’d read it to her.
Joanne opened the note, but her dyslexia has flared up and she can barely make out the first few words.
The Timepiece Arsonist is…
She came to court today prepared to give her closing argument, but even more, prepared to lose. She has no place to go with her career after today, so she had nothing to lose to hear what this is about. The courtroom had begun filling with people. Within minutes, the final day of trial will begin. She asked Mike to read the note.
He leaned close and quietly read to her.
The Timepiece Arsonist is my boss at ATF: Harley Lambert. Lenny pretexted a call to Harley & asked him to drive out from L.A. to be an expert witness. (Harley had actually been in LV—will explain more later.)
So Harley will be in court today, prepared for you to call him to the stand as an expert witness to verify the Timepiece Arsonist’s M.O. Harley is six foot, matching the height of the man in the satellite imagery. Also in court will be a man called Big T, who wrote Harley a text message three and a half years ago about wanting to buy some Macs, or guns. Big T is ready to testify to that, and also that Harley continues to illegally sell ATF-confiscated guns.
No matter what you might think after yesterday, I got your back.
Mike pulled out a blown-up photo of the phone screen, explaining that based on his research, only a few phones had this particular screen size and shape, which matched the phone brand Harley used three and a half years ago.
“I’m meeting Harley outside the courthouse in a few minutes,” Mike said, keeping his voice low. “I called him last night and ‘confessed’ that I was helping investigate the Timepiece Arsonist in that Las Vegas case, to which Harley said he’d seen something on the news about that. Then I said I’d take the heat for that, but meanwhile I really need a favor. Told him defense was losing, badly, and you’d fired me as your consultant...which I suppose you did but here I am, ready to save the day if you’ll let me. Anyway, I told Harley that an inside source, close to the defense, had told me that after firing me, you’re desperately needing an arson expert who’s familiar with the Timepiece Arsonist’s M.O. to put on the stand before closing arguments. A last-ditch effort to find any information that might help your client, Dita. I asked Harley if he could drive out to Vegas...knowing of course, that the scumbag has been here for days...anyway, told Harley that this inside source will ensure that Harley takes the stand tomorrow morning. Harley and I both agreed that his testimony won’t provide anything helpful to the defense, meaning Dita, the Timepiece Arsonist, will finally be put behind bars.
Mike further explained that Lenny, pretending to be “the inside source,” would bring Harley inside the courtroom and introduce him to Joanne as the expert witness. Meanwhile, Mike will take a seat in the courtroom gallery.
Twenty minutes later, Judge Fields entered the courtroom. As he started to explain to the jury that today is closing arguments, Joanne interrupted, asking the judge if the defense may please re-open its case because important material has been discovered.
“Objection!” Burnette yelled.
The judge, irritated, told Joanne she had a bad habit talking out of turn in his courtroom, and was she inviting another contempt citation?
It was a déjà vu moment for Joanne. The last time Judge Fields threatened contempt, her world changed irrevocably. Joanne had a choice: Either trust Mike’s evidence and fight for her client, or distrust it and sit back down. The first is her taking the wheel and steering this case as best she can, with the chance the defense wins. The second is to remain in the backseat of the case, where it’s safe, and where she and Dita lose.
Joanne took the wheel, asking the judge to please take into account that new evidence reflects directly on Dita’s innocence, and that the core of justice is fundamentally about the search for truth. Otherwise, this would be an unfair trial that steps all over Dita’s rights to present her side of the story.
The judge overruled the DA’s objection and allowed the new evidence. Maybe Joanne should have pleaded more passionately last time, or maybe her words struck the right cord with the judge this time. Whatever the reason, she trumped the DA Burnette this time around.
Harley took the stand.
“You’re an ATF special agent, is that correct?” Joanne asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“To be licensed as a federal agent, you must meet rigorous demands, is that correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She mentioned a few of those demands, adding, “As well as being over six foot, correct?”
Harley smiles. “If that were true, I would never have qualified as I’m exactly six foot tall”
She asked a few questions ATF equipment, including cell phones. “What brands of cell phones have you used in the last four years?”
“What does that have to do with my expert testimony?”
“This helps validate your role as an ATF special agent. Please answer the question.”
After he mentioned the brands, she headed back to the defense table and picked up the blown-up photo. Her back to Harley, she loo
ked at the picture, but can’t make out all the letters. She forced herself to recall Mike’s voice as he read the name of the gun dealer who sent this.
Turning around, she held up the photo for Harley.
“This is a picture of your T-mobile cell phone screen you just told the court you used three and a half years ago. The text message on this screen is from a man who calls himself Big T, who wanted to buy more guns from you. Big T sent this message to you, correct?”
Harley smirked. “Impossible. Anyway, I can can’t clearly see the photo details from here.”
“Miss Galvin,” Judge Fields said. “Could you please bring the picture closer so the witness can read the text message.”
Joanne moved closer.
“Sorry,” Harley said, leaning forward, squinting. “Still can’t see it well.”
She crossed up to the witness box, stopped and held up the photo.
In a flash of movement, Harley lunged box.
Feeling his grip around her neck, she fights to breathe, his red, furious face inches from her. Falling to the floor, she’s vaguely aware of people screaming. Mike appeared, yelling. Slams his fist into Harley’s face.
Her world went black.
* * *
Epilogue
Rosemary Galvin, dressed in a peach chiffon dress, gently placed a gardenia in Joanne’s softly curled chignon. “The white against your red hair is lovely,” she murmured.
Joanne inhaled the sweet scent. “Smells divine, too.”
Rosemary Galvin stepped back, blinking back tears. “My precious daughter on her wedding day.”
Shannon, in a shimmery pink maid of honor dress, plucked a tissue from a nearby box. “No tears, Mom! It’ll ruin your makeup!”
Rosemary laughed softly as she accepted the tissue. “By the time today is over, I imagine I’ll be makeup-less! Tears of joy are part of being the happy mother of the bride.”
The three of them were in the bridal dressing chamber at the Las Vegas Elvis Chapel. On the outside of the door were the words “For Elvis’s Ladies” scrolled around a picture of The King in a white jumpsuit and cape, bowing on one knee. Over the speakers, Elvis sang the heart-wrenching “Wonder of You.” Because their first kiss occurred while this song was playing, Joanne and Mike picked this chapel.
Joanne walked over to a full-length mirror and checked out the gardenia, then the rest of her. Her mom, sister, and Gloria had helped her wedding dress. The satin bodice was decorated with pearls. The rest of the dress was layered chiffon that fell softly over her baby bump. Her and Mike’s baby bump.
Minutes later her dad, wearing a tan suit, blue shirt and a champagne-colored tie, walked her down the green-carpeted aisle to a small stage with white Ionic columns. Mike and his best man Rex, both dressed in tuxes, stood to the side of Judge Fields, who would be officiating the ceremony. Maggie, as ring bearer, stood nearby, a satin bag holding two wedding rings hanging from her neck.
Over the speakers, Elvis started singing, “I Want You, I Need You, I Love You.” Mike silently lip-sync’d, “I want you, I need you, I love you,” causing her to smile and wish she’d remembered to bring a tissue for her own happy tears.
It has been busy since the trial. Harley, in jail without bond, is awaiting his trial for interstate trafficking in prohibited firearms, first-degree murder, assault, theft and several more charges—or as Mike said, “Enough felonies to put him away until the next millennium.”
Although ATF management hadn’t been happy to learn that Mike continued to conduct off-duty investigations in Vegas, they had commended him for excellence in the case development and prosecution against Harley. A month ago Mike relocated to the ATF Las Vegas office to open its new office of Ethics and Management.
When Judge Fields asked Mike to recite the vows he had written for Joanne, she couldn’t hold back a few tears. After Mike finished, the judge asked Joanne to please recite hers.
“I vow to love you, Mike Day, forever.” She smiled up into his face.
The judge waited. And waited. “Anything else?” he finally asked, giving her an is-that-all-you’re-going-to-say? look.
Joanne smiled even bigger, doubting all the words in the world could express her joy.
* * *
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, a big thank you to my criminal-lawyer husband, Shaun, who critiqued every chapter, often several times, to ensure I got the legal aspects right. When the going got tough, he hung up a Broncos jersey and said, “Just like Peyton Manning and Brock Osweiler, you can get this book over the goal line to The End!”
A special thank you to my editor, Wanda Ottewell, who encouraged and guided me with insights and ideas.
And more thanks to Judy DeVries for her proofreading expertise.
Last, gotta hand it to my cats who hang with me as I write, especially Denny Crane, who must watch the screen as I type…
Denny Crane, critique partner
About the Author
Colleen Collins has worked as a bad waitress, an improv comedienne, telecommunications manager, technical editor and private investigator, all of which play into her stories. She has written nearly 30 romance and mystery novels, as well as four nonfiction books.
To read more about Colleen’s books and upcoming releases:
www.colleencollins.com
Other Books by Colleen Collins
The Ungrateful Dead (A Humorous Colorado Mystery Book 1)
The Zen Man (A Humorous Colorado Mystery Book 2)
A Lawyer’s Primer for Writers: From Crimes to Courtrooms (co-authored with Shaun Kaufman)
Secrets of a Real-Life Female Private Eye
How Do Private Eyes Do That?
How to Write a Dick: A Guide for Writing Fictional Sleuths from a Couple of Real-Life Sleuths (co-authored with Shaun Kaufman)
More of Colleen’s romance and mystery novels are listed here: Colleen’s Amazon Page