by Carsen Taite
She nodded to the guards and spoke loudly to be heard through the Plexiglas. “Thanks. We need to talk to him alone now.” She didn’t make a move to pick up one of the phone handsets until the guards made their exit. While she waited, she assessed the first client she’d ever had as a defense lawyer.
Pained eyes, gaunt face, haggard expression. He was only thirty-eight, but he looked twenty years older. As she examined him, she realized she was looking for signs of Serena. They shared the same mother, but not much else. Where Serena’s bearing was proud and confident, Eric was slumped, and he would barely meet her eyes. What did she expect? They had different fathers and they’d spent a lifetime apart. Nurture had obviously won this round.
“Eric, my name is Cory Lance. I’m working with the clinic and I’m going to be handling your case from here on out.” Cory put a hand on Skye’s shoulder. “This is Skye Keaton. She’s a private investigator that your sister hired to help us gather evidence to help with your appeal.”
His eyes signaled distrust. “What happened to Greg?”
Cory shot a look at Skye before answering. “He’s had a medical emergency and he’s going to be out of commission for a while. Since we have to get moving on your case, I’m stepping in to take over.”
“You mean ’cause they scheduled the date they’re going to kill me, right?”
Uncharted territory. Cory was used to talking to victims about their rights with compassion, but she was lost when it came to comforting the accused, a deficit made exponentially more difficult when the accused had already been found guilty by a jury of his peers. What if Serena were sitting across from you? You’d find a way to be gentle, compassionate. She settled on blunt honesty. Serena would expect nothing less. “Exactly. Now that they’ve scheduled your execution date, we’re working against the clock. I’m sure you know all your direct appeals have been exhausted. What we need to do now is convince a judge that you’re actually innocent and get the court to order you a new trial. I’m sure you realize how difficult a task that is.”
He cracked a small smile. “Impossible, I’d say.”
She’d only seen Serena’s smile once, but the impression it left was enough to allow her to recognize it now. Seeing a part of Serena in Eric for the first time made it easy for her to return the gesture. She appreciated his frank appraisal of his situation. “Pretty near, but not quite. I can’t promise you I can stop your execution, but I can promise you we’ll do everything we can to try and get you a new trial. If the evidence exists to warrant a new trial. Sounds like you already understand how difficult that’s going to be.”
He nodded. “I do. Folks around here, they dream a lot, talk trash about how they’re getting out, but I know the real deal. Once you’re here, you usually only leave in a pine box.”
His simple assessment of his bleak situation moved her. “Well, let’s try and avoid that, okay? Skye and I have a lot of questions for you, but we’d like you to start by telling us everything you remember about that night. Pretend you’re on the stand testifying for your life and tell us everything you’d want the jury to know. Leave nothing out, good, bad, whatever. We need to know everything if we’re going to be able to help you.”
She paused, considering her next statement. She’d discussed it with Skye on the ride down. Chances were good her name had been bandied about the prison, and she could only imagine what some of the inmates had to say about her. Better to be up front with Eric right now if she wanted to gain his trust. “Since I’m asking you to trust enough to tell us everything, I’m going to tell you something about myself first. Up until a couple of weeks ago, I was a prosecutor in the Dallas County District Attorney’s Office. I worked on the Ray Nelson case; you may have heard of it?”
Eric nodded, his face tightening into a scowl. Cory took a deep breath and continued, purposefully avoiding Skye’s questioning look. She was veering off script, but she knew in her gut she was saying the right things. “There’s a long story behind that case. A story I’m not at liberty to tell. But I’m working for the clinic now, part of it is penance for what happened in the Nelson case, but Paul Guthrie, the director, asked me to take over your case and I’m dedicated to nothing but for the duration. I like to win. I’ve built a career on winning. If you think that changes just because I usually work for the other side, you would be mistaken. I’ll work hard to win you a retrial.” She met his scowl with a hard stare. “You want to say something?”
“Have you met my sister?”
The question took her by surprise, but she recovered quickly. “I have.”
“She didn’t boot you out?”
“No.”
“Then that’s good enough for me.”
Cory opened her mouth to explain that when she’d last seen her, Serena hadn’t known she was assigned to the case, but she decided against putting anything in the way of the trust her client had just shown. Besides, Paul had assured her he would notify Serena of the upcoming execution date and the change in lawyers. She’d expected to hear from Serena, but figured she was busy, living her life, confident Eric was in good hands. Better get down to business and make sure that was the case. “Great. Let’s get started.”
Chapter Ten
Serena spent the three-hour flight practicing what she would say to Cory when she saw her. You better do a good job on my brother’s case or I’ll break your legs topped the list, but she knew her threats needed to be refined. Once she landed, she secured the cheap rental she’d booked online and made her way to the budget motel that was to be her home for the indefinite future. After two recent visits, she found it easier to navigate the busy streets. Everything about this particular trip was easier. Everything except the prospect of seeing Cory again.
After her conversation with Paul, she’d armed herself with information from Google. Cory Lance was a veteran trial attorney who started working for the district attorney’s office as an intern while still in law school. She’d risen quickly up the ranks and was a chief prosecutor in one of the felony courts in Dallas County. At least she had been until her recent stumble in the case of the State of Texas versus Ray Nelson. Ray Nelson had been convicted of murder by a Dallas County jury and sent to prison for life. The prosecutors who put him away were Cory Lance and Julie Dalmar.
In a recent election, the former district attorney was unseated by an upstart, Frank Alvarez. Alvarez, in an effort to make a name for himself, instituted a new unit within the office, the Conviction Integrity Unit. He drastically changed the discovery practices of the office and instituted an open file policy. For years, his predecessor had resisted moving toward such a policy, claiming the defense had no right to peruse the work product of the attorneys in his office.
With the new unit and the new policy came a flood of writs on already settled appeals. Nelson’s appellate attorneys, now armed with access to the full file available to Cory and her then trial partner, Dalmar, found grounds to challenge the verdict. Apparently, the police had their sights set on several other suspects before they ultimately arrested Nelson. This information had not been shared with the attorneys who represented Nelson at trial. In addition, one of the eyewitnesses wavered about her testimony prior to trial. That information wasn’t contained in the DA’s files, but once the information about other suspects came out, the whole case started to unravel.
Even though years had passed, now several individuals came forward stating they had information about the case. The new DA cut short the media circus by joining with the defense in a motion for new trial, but as the date got closer for the hearing, he took the surprising move of asking the judge to dismiss the charges. The news was silent on any follow-up. The media crucified Cory, as the lead prosecutor, and the new DA suspended her pending further action by the state bar. Then nothing. Serena couldn’t find anything to address what happened with the case once Nelson was released.
What was Cory doing at the clinic? Why did Paul trust her enough to work Eric’s case? The clinic had an unparalle
led reputation for zealous advocacy. Would they risk their credibility by hiring a lawyer with a reputation for overzealous prosecution? Paul’s words still rang in her ear. Trust me. She hadn’t given him any assurances on the phone. Maybe once she met with him again in person, she’d know what to say. She tried to ignore the fact that seeing him again meant an inevitable confrontation with Cory.
The tiny digital clock by the edge of the bed read six p.m. She reached for the phone and placed a call to Skye. She left her a message, letting her know she was in town, where she was staying, and asking if they could meet the following day to discuss where things stood. Next, she dialed the clinic. As she suspected, Paul was there, still working, and happy to meet with her whenever she wanted to stop by. He didn’t express any surprise at her sudden announcement she was back in town. She changed into less wrinkled slacks and a light sweater and was out the door in five minutes. She was starving, but thankful Paul was available now, she put off finding something to eat, figuring she’d have less chance of seeing Cory at the clinic after hours. Some confrontations were better handled on a full stomach and a good night’s sleep.
*
Cory and Skye listened intently, but Eric didn’t have a lot to say. He’d met Nancy McGowan when he worked at the Dusty Trail Bar. He’d worked at the bar for about four months. The owner, Gerald Papolos, hired him despite his prior record. After all, how much harm could an ex-con do as a busboy? But on a fateful Saturday night, when the register turned up a hundred dollars short, Eric was the perfect scapegoat. He’d offered to let Papolos search him to prove he hadn’t taken the cash, but Papolos brushed him off, saying he could’ve hidden the money anywhere. The only one who’d expressed any sympathy toward him was Nancy McGowan, a cocktail waitress. She’d spoken up for him, claiming there was no way Eric could’ve gotten behind the bar and into the register without anyone noticing.
Her protests didn’t do any good even though they should have gone a long way toward supporting Eric’s defense attorneys’ primary argument—why would Eric kill a woman who’d stood up for him? But the prosecutors twisted the situation, arguing that Nancy’s support for him caused him to develop an unhealthy attraction for the woman, which ultimately led him to stalk, rape, and kill her.
“After you were fired, when’s the next time you saw Nancy?”
“She was there when I picked up my last check, but it was a busy night. I didn’t talk to her.”
“The police report says you went back to the bar again about three days later. Did you?”
Eric nodded. “My check was wrong. I went back in to get that straightened out.”
“Why didn’t you take care of that when you were there the first time?”
“Gerald was out of town. The manager told me I’d have to talk to him about the check. Actually, he told me I should be happy I got a final check at all.”
“How much was it short?”
“The hundred dollars they claim I stole.”
“You didn’t take the money?” Cory looked up from her notes as she asked the question, convinced she’d be able to read the truth in his eyes.
“No, I did not.” He shook his head. “Look, I know you’ve seen my record, and I figure you think I’m a thief. Truth is, I used to be. I’ve had a couple of trips to the pen for stealing other people’s shit. I swore the last time would really be the last. Gerald gave me that job, and I was going to work hard. Earn an honest living. I was doing just that. I didn’t take that money. I was still on parole. Like I was going to risk my freedom for a lousy hundred bucks. Didn’t go down that way.”
“Who do you think took the money?”
“Last I heard, I’m not in here over a missing hundred dollars.”
Skye interjected. “Eric, every detail is important. I know you’ve spent a lot more time thinking about all of this than we have, but we do this for a living. We have to look at every detail of your case from scratch.”
“Yeah, I get it. I don’t know who took that money. All I know is I was told it was gone and they kicked me out that night.”
“Who fired you?”
“Lenny. He’s the guy Gerald left in charge when he was off.”
“Leonard Wilkins?” She’d remembered Leonard was a key witness at the trial, placing Eric back at the bar the night Nancy went missing.
“Dunno. Folks just called him Lenny. He’s a white guy. Old, like maybe fifty.”
Cory forced herself not to grin at Eric’s definition of old. She took over the questions. “Let’s get back to Nancy and the night you went back to the bar to talk to Gerald about your check. That’s the night she went missing.”
“I know, but I’m telling you I didn’t even talk to her that night.” Eric relayed his every step, from pulling up at the bar to walking back to the office to talk to Gerald Papolos about his check. “Gerald wouldn’t agree to give me the whole hundred, but he did slip me a twenty. Told me to get lost before he contacted my parole officer to let him know I’d blown it again. I got the hell out of there before he changed his mind.”
“Anyone else there when you talked to Gerald?”
“I don’t think so. Well, wait a minute. He wasn’t in the office, but Lenny did grab me in the parking lot. Wanted to know what I was doing back at the bar.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That it was none of his business. He shoved me around a little. I didn’t fight back. I just wanted to get out of there without any trouble. Bad enough I lost my job, I didn’t need anyone calling the cops about a fight. I drove off and never looked back.”
“Lenny testified against you at the trial, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Any reason he’d lie to get you in trouble?”
“Just because I can’t think of a reason, doesn’t mean he didn’t do it.” His voice rose and he was visibly agitated.
Cory held up a hand, palm out. “Slow down. We’re on your side.” She waited until he settled down. “You’re in the best position to tell us about these people. I know you don’t have all the answers, but that’s not going to stop me from asking. You might think of something when you least expect it.
“Now, anything else about that night you think might be important?”
“There isn’t anything else. I didn’t even talk to her that night, let alone rape and murder her.”
What happened after that night was all public record. Eric’s arrest had been two days later, hours after Nancy’s body was found, violated and bloody, in her own apartment. The police interviewed everyone who worked at the bar the last night Nancy had been seen there, along with her family. They quickly concluded, based on Leonard’s testimony and an eyewitness account of a black man forcing Nancy into a car in the bar parking lot, that Eric was the prime suspect. From what Cory could tell, the investigation ended with Eric’s arrest. He was promptly interviewed, and even though he hadn’t confessed to the actual acts for which he was charged, he readily told the police he’d been at the bar that night and had seen Nancy. He “confessed” that she was always nice to him and he liked her. He “confessed” that he thought she was pretty. All facts that were twisted against him at trial.
“This guy who testified he saw you force Nancy into her car. Did you know him?”
“Dale Bolton. No, I never laid eyes on the guy until trial. But his name is burned in my mind for all eternity.”
“You never saw him in the bar?”
“No. I’ve gone over it in my head a million times, but I don’t know why he picked me out. I figure it was just another case of some white guy thinking we all look alike.”
Cory exchanged looks with Skye. Cross-racial eyewitness identification had become a hot topic in the legal community and defense attorneys with high-paying clients were quick to hire experts to challenge lineups. Of course, Eric hadn’t had the money to fund such experts, but his trial attorneys hadn’t even petitioned the court for funds to hire experts of any kind. Cory counted back. A few years ago, when
Eric’s trial had taken place, the topic might have seemed too cutting edge to convince a judge it was worth court dollars. Maybe they could make something of it now. It wasn’t enough though. They needed more. Much more.
She and Skye took turns asking Eric questions about his encounter with the police. He admitted he’d gone with them willingly. He’d been on parole and didn’t think he had a choice. Besides, he hadn’t done anything wrong. As many times as Cory preached to juries that if someone didn’t do anything wrong, there’s no harm in talking to the cops, she knew she would never follow her own advice. Especially not if she were uneducated and all too familiar with the system, like Eric. People never failed to amaze her.
When they’d exhausted their list of questions, Cory motioned to Skye that they should get going. Skye nodded, but didn’t make a move to leave. Instead, she stood and pulled a roll of quarters out of her pocket. “Hey, Eric, there’s a whole roll here. What can I get you?”
Cory listened while Eric recited a list of junk food and sodas. Skye grinned at Cory and strode to the vending machines to see the guard standing there. Cory shook her head and smiled at Eric. “Guess you don’t have a lot to look forward to in there.”
“You got that right.” He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. “I’m powerless in here. If it weren’t for Serena, I’d have already given up.”
“Eric, we’ll do everything we can for you, but you shouldn’t get your hopes up.”
“Don’t worry. My hope is so low, anything is up. But that’s for me, okay? Don’t go all negative when you see my sister. Let her think there’s a chance. I can handle the truth, but she needs hope to hang on to. You understand?”
“I do.”
“Tell her I love her.”
“I will.” Inspired by his surprising show of strength, Cory started to tell him not to worry, that they would give his defense everything they had, but Skye chose that very moment to reappear, accompanied by a guard whose arms were laden with vending machine junk food. Cory reconsidered. Eric didn’t need her words of assurance any more than he needed to eat a healthy diet. She’d save her comfort for Serena.