by Carsen Taite
Cory flashed a wide smile. “Everything. Try the French dip. The fries alone are to die for, but the sandwich is perfection.”
Serena closed her menu. “French dip it is. Though I have no idea why I’m trusting food advice from a skinny white girl.” She grinned to soften the faux insult.
Cory’s retort was cut short when Ian slid into the booth. “I see you two are becoming acquainted.”
Serena looked back and forth between them. Maybe she could find out about Cory in a roundabout way. “Have you two known each other long?”
“Years,” Ian replied. “Though this will be the first time we’ve ever worked on the same side.” He fiddled with his silverware and napkin, completely missing the killer stare Cory leveled in his direction. The reappearance of the waitress saved him from Cory’s wrath. When she left with their food orders, Ian launched the conversation in a different direction.
“Your brother’s case was mishandled from the start, but the problem is that once he’s been found guilty, the burden is on us to show he is actually innocent or should at least be entitled to a new trial.”
Serena crossed her arms and leaned in close. “Okay. How do we go about doing that?”
“Cory and the team at the clinic will worry about the legal stuff, but we need an investigator to follow up on all the unturned leads the trial team overlooked.”
“Didn’t they have an investigator working on the case?” Cory asked.
“Well, they filed a motion to have one appointed, but I can’t for the life of me tell what he did. It was George Patton. He’s a popular investigator, retired cop, and very old-school. Didn’t keep notes or write anything down.”
“Guess we should start by having whoever we hire interview George and determine what he was able to find out.” Cory realized she’d said “we.” Too late to bite back the words. She wasn’t officially assigned to this case and she wouldn’t be. She’d do what she promised and move on. “I have an idea about who you can hire. Her name is Skye Keaton and she used to be a homicide detective for the Dallas Police Department.”
Ian flashed her a questioning look and she answered his silent query. “She’s a private investigator now, doing a lot of work for the Bradley and Casey law firm. She’s good, better than a lot of the top investigators with the DA’s office.”
Serena piped in. “Is she expensive?”
“Good question. I’ve never had to hire a PI, so I don’t have any idea about her fees or investigator fees in general.” As she spoke the words, she realized with every response she seemed more and more inept. Good thing she wasn’t trying to impress anyone.
Serena cocked her head at Cory’s response, but didn’t pursue the query. “Do you think we could meet with her this afternoon?”
Ian glanced at his iPhone. “I have an appointment this afternoon, but perhaps Cory could set up a meeting. I’ll give you my notes to help her get started.”
Serena caught Cory’s eye. “Are you in?”
“Sure.” Cory spoke the word, knowing she was anything but.
Chapter Five
Cory pointed out the route, only half paying attention, focusing more on her situation than where they were going. A week ago, she’d worked for one of the most powerful law enforcement agencies in this part of the country. Now she was helping represent a loser on death row, on her way to meet with a turncoat private eye. As if that weren’t enough to give her an identity crisis, the driver on her trip to hell was the sister of the killer whose life she was supposed to be trying to help save.
Serena didn’t look like the next of kin of a rapist slash murderer. No, she looked like a gentle soul, a working woman. Maybe a teacher or an accountant. They were in a rental car, so she wasn’t from around here. Cory looked at her hands, gripping the steering wheel. No ring. Not that unusual for a woman in her early thirties, but still…She should just ask all her questions, but she didn’t. Cory couldn’t put her finger on it, but she sensed strong walls around Serena, boundaries long in place. She respected a healthy desire for privacy, but at the same time the attraction she’d felt when she’d met her urged her to push through, find a way inside. What would she find? Did she have more in common with her brother than she’d like the world to believe? Was her professional appearance a front? And the question that topped her wave of curiosity: was the attraction she felt mutual? What if it was? What if it wasn’t? Fear of both the known and unknown kept her silent. She remained quiet during the ride except when her navigation skills were necessary.
“Turn into that driveway, up ahead on the right.”
Serena’s head followed Cory’s hand. “Doesn’t look like office space.”
“It’s not. Well, not conventional office space, anyway. Most good private investigators I know work out of their cars. Not a convenient place to meet, especially since I think Skye probably still rides a Harley.” Cory kept talking in an attempt to hold off any more questions from Serena. When Skye had suggested Sue Ellen’s as a meeting place, she’d balked, but Skye was in the neighborhood, and a Wednesday afternoon at a lesbian bar would give them as much privacy as they’d be likely to get from any stuffy office setting. She directed Serena to a parking place and practically jumped out of the car to avoid further discussion.
Serena walked fast for a woman in heels. She paused in front of the door. “Sue Ellen’s?”
“It’s a local hangout. J.R.’s is just around the corner. You know, from the show, Dallas?”
Serena shook her head. “I don’t watch a lot of TV.”
“It’s old.” Cory felt lame, because both the reference fell flat and because she watched way more TV than she should. She pushed open the door of the bar, spotted Skye, and waved. She held open the door for Serena, but she grabbed her arm instead of walking into the bar.
“Tell me something.”
“Sure.” Cory waited patiently for the question.
Serena shot a look at Skye, before fixing Cory with a hard stare. “Whose idea was it to come here?”
“Here? Right here?”
Serena nodded.
Uh-oh. Didn’t take a genius to discern Serena was displeased. Maybe she didn’t like bars. There were only a few other women in the place, but one couple in the corner was treating the quiet bar like a good place for an afternoon delight. Probably the source of Serena’s obvious discomfort. “It was Skye’s idea. She was in the neighborhood. Thought it would be a quiet place to meet. Coffee shops get too crowded this time of day, what with everyone looking for an afternoon coffee fix. Bars? They tend to be pretty empty until happy hour starts.” Too late, Cory realized she was rambling. “Come on. She’s waiting.”
Serena had known from the moment they drove into the neighborhood exactly what kind of bar this was. She wasn’t blind. Couples wandering out of nearby restaurants, hands intertwined, were her first clue. Each set the same, women with women, men with men. What she didn’t get was why Cory had thought it was okay to bring her to a bar for a business meeting. And not just any bar, but a lesbian one. Did she have some hidden agenda? Surely, the chemistry she felt wasn’t mutual. Not likely since Cory had barely paid any attention to her all through lunch, directing her questions to Ian and avoiding eye contact. Odd. Especially since Ian mentioned they’d never worked together before. She filed away the exchange for when she could catch Cory alone.
Skye stood as they approached. Cory shook her hand and then made the introductions. “Skye Keaton, meet Serena Washington.”
Serena held out her hand and Skye gave it a firm shake. Skye was drop-dead gorgeous and Serena was fairly positive she was a lesbian, but unlike when she’d shaken Cory’s hand for the first time, she felt nothing. Except relief. Good to know every good-looking woman in Dallas wasn’t going to ring her bell. She’d worked so hard to keep herself in check.
Skye interrupted her musings. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Serena looked at the half-full glass on the table. “What’re you having?”
&nb
sp; “A double. Club soda with lime.” Skye’s grin was infectious.
“I’ll have the same.”
“Cory?”
“I’m good.”
Serena watched Cory watching Skye walk to the bar. “How long have you known her?”
“Years.” Cory didn’t take her eyes off Skye. “We haven’t worked together in a long time though.”
Again with the vague reference. The way Cory stared at Skye seemed detached, but Serena wondered what she wasn’t seeing. She started to form a question, but Skye returned before she could ask. She’d have to try a different tack if she wanted real information. “Skye, I was just asking Cory how long you two have known each other.”
Skye gave Cory a careful look before answering. “Wow, it’s been years. We haven’t had the pleasure of working together for a few years though.”
Still vague. Serena decided she wasn’t going to pierce their united front. She gave up. For now. “Where do we start?”
Skye answered. “You tell me what you need me to do and I quote you a fee.”
Cory took the reins. “Short story. Serena’s brother, Eric, is on death row. I’m helping her find an investigator to look into evidence for a writ. This morning is the first opportunity I had to hear about the case, so I don’t have much detail other than what his appellate attorney shared with us over lunch.”
Cory’s summary didn’t jibe with how Serena saw her role, so she filed it away with the rest of the pieces of Cory Lance that itched along the edges of her awareness. She didn’t have time to consider the issue before Skye began peppering her with questions.
“Tell me the basic facts of the case.”
Serena had studied the case file and could recite most of the relevant details from memory. “Eric was arrested by the Rinson police after a woman he once worked with, Nancy McGowan, was raped and murdered. In my view, the evidence was slim. No one witnessed the incident, but a customer of the bar where they worked had seen a black man standing next to Ms. McGowan by her car on the night she died. He picked Eric by his photograph—a mug shot the police showed him. There were a few other details that connected Eric to Nancy, but nothing that pointed to him as a killer.”
Cory interjected. “Someone gave the cops a picture of the two of them that a witness testified was taken at her birthday celebration at the bar about a week before the murder. Running theory was Eric had a thing for McGowan and, when she rejected him, he took matters into his own hands.”
“Any other suspects?”
“Doesn’t appear that they investigated anyone else. Once they had Eric in their sights, they were done.”
“DNA?”
“No.”
“They didn’t test for it or it just wasn’t there?”
Serena quoted what she’d been told. “‘Tests were inconclusive for DNA other than the victim’s, and it doesn’t appear that a rape kit was done.’”
Skye shook her head, muttered “small-town cops,” and made some notes. Serena relaxed. The fact they were in a lesbian bar and Cory’s sudden distancing of herself from the case, had her on edge, but Skye’s sharp, no-nonsense style of questioning bolstered her confidence.
“Give me your impression of the trial attorneys.”
And bam. Just like that, a question she couldn’t answer and for an embarrassing reason. Serena took a deep breath and plunged in. “I don’t have an impression other than what I’ve read in the legal papers. I wasn’t at the trial.” She looked back and forth between Skye and Cory. Neither was particularly good at hiding their surprise at her statement. She didn’t blame them. How many defendants went on trial for their lives without a single family member to see them through the process? She could imagine what they thought of Eric. So unredeemable that even his sister couldn’t stand to be in the courtroom.
“Surely, you were in court for the punishment phase of the trial?”
This from Cory. She had some nerve, pressing the point. Serena rewarded her candor with a string of answers. “I wasn’t. I didn’t know Eric had been arrested and charged with this awful crime. I didn’t know he was convicted. I didn’t know he’d been sentenced to die. I didn’t know he’d exhausted his appeals. I didn’t know anything about this case until a few weeks ago when he wrote to tell me he was scheduled to die. We don’t have a lot of time. If you’re going to work on the case, I need you to get started right away.”
She leaned back in the booth, waiting for their shocked responses to her confession. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, and Serena absorbed the surreal atmosphere of exposing her vulnerability accompanied by a light disco beat. She pondered how she could escape without them noticing. Return to her safe, secure life back in Florida, the comfort of family, and the security of her job. No crime, no questions, no recrimination.
Cory’s hand on hers stopped her thoughts cold. Warm, accepting, and not completely unwelcome. Seconds passed. She couldn’t bring herself to meet Cory’s eyes, but she couldn’t avoid Skye who looked between them with the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. She gently withdrew her hand and placed it in her lap. The entire exchange likely only lasted a couple of seconds, but the effect lingered. Would she have pulled her hand away if Skye hadn’t been right there? Didn’t matter. She was here on a mission and she would not be distracted. She focused her attention on the reason for this meeting.
“What do you need to get started?”
Skye leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Serena watched and waited, resisting the desire to shake an answer out of her. She’d started out this meeting relaxed, but after speaking out loud about Eric’s plight, anxiety now had a firm grip. Action. She craved action. Eric had waited long enough.
Thankfully, Skye spoke before she exploded. “I need to make a couple of phone calls. I’m in business for myself, but I need to make sure I can clear my schedule with the attorneys who rely on my services on a regular basis. And my wife will need a little notice that I’m going to be out of pocket.”
“Married, huh?” Cory asked. “Never would’ve pegged you for the marrying kind.”
Skye’s grin lit up the room. “Not only married, but starting a family. Aimee’s in her third trimester. You should know that a phone call from her is going to trump anything else for the next ten weeks.”
Cory’s smile was genuine. “Congratulations! You should definitely talk to her since there could be some out of town travel involved. Some of the trial witnesses have scattered to the wind and, of course, you’ll need to visit Eric at Huntsville.” Cory made a note on the pad in front of her. “The clinic has all the current contact info for the witnesses in their file, and we’ll get you a copy of all the police reports.”
Serena watched their easy exchange with a mixture of envy. Marriage, pregnancy, relationships. The ease with which they discussed these topics stung. She’d never pictured herself in their place, blithely discussing happily ever afters. She asked a question to bring things back to reality. “What’s your rate and how much of a retainer do you need?”
Skye drummed her fingers on the table and cocked her head, as if considering the question. “I usually charge a hundred dollars an hour for in-town work and extra for travel. As for the retainer, it’s hard to tell at this point. I’ll need to review what your attorneys have compiled and work out a game plan. Why don’t I make those calls I mentioned, get with Cory to review the evidence you have, and I’ll put together a strategy that will include an estimate of the work that needs to be done? That should take about half a day and you can pay me in advance for that.”
Skye sounded professional, thorough, and more than competent. Cory obviously trusted her and, despite a nagging sense she didn’t have enough information to draw this conclusion, Serena trusted Cory. She pulled a checkbook from her purse and scrawled out a check for five hundred dollars. She stood and handed the check to Skye. “I guess you better start making those calls.” She turned to Cory. “Ready?”
Cory answered her loaded question
with a loaded answer. “If you are.”
She nodded, knowing she was agreeing to way more than leaving the bar.
*
Cory assumed the role of GPS and directed Serena through the crowded Dallas streets. Melinda had left a voice message on her cell to say she was stuck in a deposition. If she went back to the clinic now, she’d have to find a ride home, a situation Melinda clearly hadn’t contemplated when she’d dropped her off this morning. She could take a cab, but the cross-town ride would cost a fortune. Who was she kidding? Saving money wasn’t the reason she was pointing out the route to her house. She’d hardly had a moment alone with Serena and she craved the connection that coursed between them during the few short seconds in the bar.
Madness. She spent her entire career as a prosecutor vigilantly guarding all aspects of her personal life. Unlisted phone number, stellar security system. She didn’t participate in the frenzy of social media that had overtaken the rest of mankind. And her employer supported her desire for privacy. The DA’s office had an agreement with the local papers—no photos would accompany news articles about current cases. The very last thing she would have done as a prosecutor would be to invite a defendant over to her house.
But Serena wasn’t a defendant, and Cory was hard-pressed to even see her as the family of a defendant. Fragile, yet steeled. Intelligent, yet naive. Serena was a victim in her own right. If her brother was a killer, she was burdened with his evil deeds. If he wasn’t, she was burdened with guilt for his mislaid penance. Either way, Cory cared. Cared that Serena hurt, admired the courage it took to ask for help, and she longed to coax a smile from her weary, stress-filled eyes.
She almost cared enough to ignore reality. Eric’s execution date might come and go with hopeful, last-minute bursts of legal brilliance, but in the end, justice would mete out an unforgiving dose of poison. Once on death row, the path to life was nearly impossible to navigate. Very few dodged the executioner’s needle.