Corpus Delicti (David Brunelle Legal Thriller Book 6)

by Stephen Penner

  “The cause of death was unclear,” she explained. “She was found unresponsive in a motel room, with no apparent injuries.” She thought for a moment. “Well, no apparent fresh injuries. There were older bruises at various stages of healing. And injection sites. But nothing to suggest a cause of death.”

  Brunelle nodded. He was liking how this was going. So far the jury had heard ‘criminal agency’, ‘older bruises’, and ‘injection sites. They also knew, from Chen’s testimony, that Linda knew Amy and told the cops she thought Brown had something to do with Amy’s disappearance.

  Her death, he reminded himself.

  He and Kat had a good vibe going. Kind of like with Chen. It was nice. It felt comfortable. He almost forgot they’d broken up. But then he remembered again and felt a dump of acid in his stomach. He just needed to wrap up with Linda’s autopsy and sit down.

  “What was the result of your examination, doctor?” he asked.

  “I conducted a full autopsy,” she told the jurors. “Removing and inspecting each organ for any previously undetected abnormalities. I was looking for tumors or other pathologies. I found none. All of the organs were within normal size ranges and I found no signs of internal trauma. That left a drug overdose as the most likely cause of death, particularly in light of the injection sites I observed on her arms and feet.”

  “Feet?” Brunelle felt compelled to ask for some reason.

  “Yes,” Kat answered. “Severe drug addicts will often inject into their feet because it can be difficult after years of drug abuse to find a suitable vein in the arm. Also, it reduces the amount of injection site tracks left on the arm, which can be important if you want to diminish the appearance of being a drug addict.”

  Brunelle nodded. “Like, if you were in a profession where your personal appearance might influence how many clients you could get?”

  That was close to edge, and Brunelle heard Edwards stir as if to object, but she let it go. Probably deciding it was better not to draw more attention to Brunelle’s question by objecting to it.

  “I suppose,” Kat answered. “Or if you wanted to hide the tracks from friends or family.”

  Brunelle frowned slightly. A simple ‘yes’ would have been better.

  “So how do you determine if someone died of a drug overdose?” he moved on.

  “We have to send the blood out for toxicology analysis,” Kat answered. “That takes a few weeks, so we hold off on a final determination until we get the results.”

  “And did you do that in this case?”

  “I did,” Kat confirmed.

  “What were the results of the toxicology?”

  Kat turned to the jury. “She had lethal levels of opiates in her system.”

  “Opiates?” Brunelle asked. He knew what that meant, but he couldn’t assume the jurors did.

  “Heroin,” Kat clarified. “She died of a heroin overdose.”

  Brunelle nodded one last time. He was done. It had gone well enough. And he enjoyed seeing Kat again, despite his earlier trepidation. He was glad for that too.

  “No further questions.”

  Brunelle wondered what Edwards would do for cross. The issue wasn’t really what Linda died from, but how she was related to Amy and Brown. Kat didn’t have any information on that.

  Edwards obviously knew that too. She stood up. “No questions, Your Honor.”

  She also knew Brunelle was out of witnesses.

  “You may be excused, doctor,” Judge Grissom told Kat. Kat stepped down from the witness stand and walked past Brunelle’s table. He ventured a look at her, but she just walked past. Not like she was ignoring him. More like he wasn’t worth ignoring. His heart sank again.

  “Does the state have any more witnesses, Mr. Brunelle?”

  Brunelle tore his thoughts from lost loves to lost witnesses. He didn’t want to rest his case until he heard one more time from Chen. Once he rested, he couldn’t re-open to call Jillian. He needed to stall just a bit more.

  “I’d ask for a recess, Your Honor,” he said. He didn’t want to explain in front of the jury. He just needed to buy a little more time.

  Grissom sighed but understood. It wasn’t her first rodeo, either. She turned to the jurors. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to take a brief recess. I’m going to ask you to retire to the jury room while I discuss scheduling with the attorneys.”

  They had been sitting through the case long enough that there were now some audible, if still fairly good-natured, grumblings as the jurors stood up and walked into the jury room. Once the door closed, Grissom repeated her question to Brunelle.

  “Do you have any more witnesses, Mr. Brunelle?”

  Brunelle shrugged and threw a quick glance to the courtroom door. “I don’t know, Your Honor. There is one more witness I’d like to call, but I’m not sure if I can find her.”

  Grissom frowned and looked at Edwards. “Are you ready to put on your witnesses?”

  Edwards stood up. “Actually, Your Honor, Mr. Brunelle’s case went a bit quicker than I’d expected. I don’t mind giving him the rest of the morning to try to find his witness. We could come back after lunch. If we have her, great, we can take her testimony this afternoon. If not, he can rest his case. Either way, I’d ask the court’s indulgence to allow me to start my case fresh tomorrow morning.”

  Grissom’s frown deepened. “If Mr. Brunelle can’t find his witness, that means we’ll essentially just waste the rest of the court day.”

  Edwards nodded. “Yes, Your Honor. Unless you want to force Mr. Brunelle to rest right now. Then I might be ready to start after lunch.”

  Grissom turned back to Brunelle and raised an inquiring eyebrow. “I’d rather we go with Ms. Edwards’ first suggestion, Your Honor. If I don’t have my witness by one o’clock, I’ll rest.”

  The judge folded her hands in front of her and thought for a few seconds. “Very well. We’ll be at recess until one o’clock. Ms. Edwards, be prepared to put on your case first thing tomorrow, regardless of whether Mr. Brunelle can find his witness.”

  “Understood, Your Honor,” Edwards replied. “I’ll be ready.”

  Brunelle frowned. He knew she would be.

  Chapter 37

  Chen had no luck finding Jillian. She was in the wind. The only things he was able to confirm were that she’d been there the night before she disappeared, and she didn’t tell anyone she was going anywhere. Brunelle was forced to rest his case without introducing Brown’s confessions—his boasts, really—into evidence. That left his case perilously thin. He stayed late that night, staring blankly at his computer monitor long after most of the prosecutor’s office staff had gone home for the night.

  After watching Kat walk past him like he was just any other guy on the street, he didn’t feel like going home to his empty apartment.

  But he wasn’t the only one at the office late that night.

  “How goes the trial?”

  Brunelle tore his thousand-mile-stare from his computer monitor to the man leaning on his doorframe. Matt Duncan. His boss.

  Brunelle smiled. He liked Duncan. He wasn’t surprised the boss was staying late at the office. Duncan cared about the job. He cared about justice. That just it made it all the worse.

  “Not great,” Brunelle admitted. “The judge excluded any evidence of prostitution or pimping and my star witness went missing. I had to rest without calling her. So the case is a loose mess of inferences and innuendo. I hope the jury gets it.”

  Duncan nodded. “They usually do. I tried a lot of cases before I got the corner office. Now I spend my days sitting in budget meetings and attending public forums. But from what I remember, the jury usually got it right. Even when I lost, they got it right.”

  Brunelle nodded. “Thanks, Matt.”

  There was silence for a few moments as Brunelle considered saying the same thing to a young attorney one day. ‘I lost the Amy Corrigan case, but, based on the evidence, the jury got it right.’ The thought of it made him sic
k.

  “You knew it was going to be a tough case, Dave,” Duncan interrupted his thoughts.

  Brunelle shrugged. “Yeah. I just thought it would go better, that’s all.”

  “Is that why you charged it?” Duncan asked. “Because you thought it would go well.”

  Brunelle shook his head. “No. Like you said, I knew it would be hard.”

  “So why did you charge it?”

  Brunelle thought for a moment. “Because it was the right thing to do. Because he murdered Amy Corrigan and he should be held responsible.”

  “Did you do your best?”

  Brunelle shrugged again. “I don’t know. I tried. It’s just a difficult case. Totally circumstantial. I lost my star witness. Then I lost the next one. It’s just…” but the thought trailed off.

  Duncan stepped into Brunelle’s office and sat down on a guest chair. “Look, Dave, I’ll tell you something my boss said to me back when I was still trying homicide cases. He said, ‘Matt, this job can be damn hard some days. You have a plan for the day and within ten minutes of getting to the office, your plan is blown to hell. You spend all day putting out fires and reacting to what everyone else needs right that second and by the time five o’clock rolls around, you feel like you haven’t done a damn thing.’”

  Brunelle looked at Duncan. “That sounds familiar,” he admitted.

  “Yeah,” Duncan said. “And then he told me, ‘If you come in on time, and work your ass off all day, then you can go home proud you did your job.’ Don’t look back and ask, ‘Did I do what I planned to do today?’ Look back and ask, ‘Did I work hard today? Did I do justice today?’ And if you can honestly answer ‘yes’ to that question, then it doesn’t matter what anyone else says or does. Even if it’s a jury saying ‘not guilty.’”

  Brunelle leaned back in his chair. “Thanks, Matt.”

  Duncan stood up. “Sure thing. Now go home. Get some rest. Fight tomorrow’s battle tomorrow.”

  Brunelle nodded. “Okay. Sounds good. Edwards calls her first witness tomorrow. I should get some rest so I’m sharp for cross.”

  “Who’s her first witness?” Duncan asked.

  But Brunelle shook his head. “I don’t know. Probably the defendant. I don’t think she has any other witnesses. I’d have more fun crossing him if I could ask him about being a pimp.”

  “And a murderer,” Duncan added.

  “Yeah, well, I get to ask about that,” Brunelle said. “But I’m pretty sure he’ll deny it.”

  “Yeah, probably,” Duncan agreed with a laugh.

  Then Brunelle pursed his lips. “I don’t know, though. She might not call him at all. He looks all clean and proper sitting there in his suit. I’m not sure how well he’d come across if he opened his mouth. He’s still a street pimp. Edwards is smart. She might tell him to do that whole right-to-remain-silent thing.”

  Duncan nodded. “She’s a good lawyer. I’m sure she’ll make the right decision for her client. I guess you’ll just have to show up tomorrow morning and see what she has in store for you. Maybe she’ll surprise you.”

  “Great,” Brunelle stood up too, and clicked off his computer. “I hate surprises.”

  Chapter 38

  “The defense calls Jillian Hammond.”

  Brunelle nearly fell out of his chair. Then he bolted up from it, ready to object. Somehow. To something. But there was nothing to object to.

  Jillian ‘Tina’ Hammond strutted through the courtroom doors and up to the witness stand. Unlike Kat, Jillian was happy to stare at Brunelle as she walked by. Brunelle wished she hadn’t.

  The judge swore Jillian in, and Edwards took her spot at the bar, binder open once again.

  “Good morning, Ms. Hammond,” Edwards began. “Could you go ahead and state your full name for the court reporter?”

  “Of course,” Jillian answered. She was dressed differently from the other times Brunelle had seen her. Rather than a short skirt and tight blouse, she had on jeans and a sweater, with simple boots and her hair in a ponytail. She looked like somebody’s older sister. “Jillian Hammond.”

  “Tina,” Brunelle muttered under his breath.

  “Jillian,” Edwards asked. “Do you know a woman named Amy Corrigan?”

  “Yes, I do,” Jillian answered.

  “How do you know her?”

  “We work in the same neighborhood,” was the sanitized answer. “We run in to each other from time to time and talk about our days.”

  And nights, Brunelle thought less than generously. He was pissed.

  “Do you know my client, Kenneth Brown?” Edwards asked next.

  “I wouldn’t say I know him exactly,” Jillian answered. “But we’ve talked. He works in the same neighborhood, too.”

  Brunelle really hoped the jury understood what all that meant—that Kenny Brown was a pimp and Amy and Jillian were hookers—because he couldn’t tell them. Damn Judge Grissom, he couldn’t tell them.

  “How about Linda Prescott?” Edwards continued.

  Jillian affected a suddenly troubled expression. She nodded and cast her eyes downward. “Yeah, I knew Linda.”

  Brunelle managed not to roll his own eyes. Jillian was laying it on thick. His head was still spinning. Where had she been all this time that Chen was looking for her? Why was she testifying for Brown? And most frightening of all, what the hell was she going to say?

  “When was the last time you saw Amy Corrigan?” Edwards asked.

  Jillian took a moment to think. In case it wasn’t clear, she put a finger to pursed lips and looked up at the ceiling. “I think it was probably about four months ago.”

  That was bullshit, Brunelle knew. Linda reported her missing three months before that.

  “And did you two have a conversation?”

  Jillian nodded. “Yes.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  Jillian nodded again. “She told me she was going to go to California for a while. Just to get away from things. Lay low for a while. I guess she had a kid and things were getting real stressful and she just couldn’t handle it all.”

  Brunelle couldn’t believe his ears. He looked at the jury to see if they were believing theirs. He couldn’t be sure, but they were all paying attention. Some of them had to be buying it. Damn it.

  “Did she ever mention anything about Mr. Brown?”

  Jillian frowned thoughtfully and shook her head. “No. Nothing about him. Just about needing to get away for a while.”

  “Have you seen her since?”

  “Nope. I ain’t seen her since she told me she was leaving for Cali. I figure she’s still there, laying low and staying out of sight.”

  Brunelle felt his heart squeeze in his chest. Jillian had just killed his case. The jury would acquit in a matter of minutes.

  “Thank you, Ms. Hammond,” Edwards said, picking up her binder. “No further questions.”

  The judge peered down at Brunelle. “Any cross examination?”

  Brunelle looked up at the judge, still shell-shocked. Of course there would be cross examination. There had to be. He couldn’t just let that testimony stand unchallenged. But he had no idea what he was going to say. He stood up anyway. “Yes, Your Honor. Thank you.”

  He usually did direct exam from next to his table. It was far enough away to make sure the witnesses kept their voices up, and it was right next to the jury box so they could look at the jurors more naturally. On cross, he preferred to stand closer to the witness. Not so close as to seem overly aggressive, but close enough to show that he was challenging them, and also to keep them focused on arguing with him, not convincing the jury.

  “Good morning, Ms. Hammond,” Brunelle started. He wanted to call her ‘Tina’ just to be snarky, but the jury wouldn’t get it—and he wouldn’t be allowed to explain it.

  “Good morning,” she replied, her eyes narrowed and challenging. Brunelle didn’t suppose someone who’d been mentally, physically, and sexually abused by scores of johns and pimps was going
to be scared by a few questions from some guy in a suit. There was no point in trying to intimidate her. He’d just have to try to outsmart her.

  “You say Amy told you she was going to California?” he started.

  “Yep,” Jillian answered confidently.

  “Did she say where in California?” he asked.

  Jillian hesitated. Brunelle knew she was trying to decide which was more believable, that she would or wouldn’t specify a city. “Uh, I don’t know. I don’t think so. Just California.”

  “Oh, okay.” Brunelle nodded. “And you said she mentioned having a kid?”

  “Yeah, she had a kid,” Jillian answered. “A daughter, I think.”

  “Did she talk a lot about her daughter?” Brunelle asked.

  Jillian shrugged. “I dunno. Not a lot, but yeah, sometimes.”

  “Like when you were working?” Brunelle suggested.

  Jillian’s expression hardened just a bit. “No. Never when we were working.”

  Another hint to the jury as to what these women really did for a living.

  “But often enough that you knew about the kid?” Brunelle confirmed.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Jillian conceded.

  “But then you say she was going to California—nowhere in particular, just California—to get away from her daughter that she liked to talk about except when you were working?”

  “Uh…” Jillian seemed unsure how to respond.

  “Objection.” Edwards jumped in. “Compound question.”

  Before the judge could rule on the objection, Brunelle offered, “I’ll rephrase.” Then he looked back to the witness. “You testified that one of the things Amy was trying to get away from was her daughter, is that correct?”

  Jillian nodded, raising her chin slightly in defiance. “Right.”

  “You don’t have kids, do you?” Brunelle ventured. He hoped the moms on the jury wouldn’t believe any woman would abandon their two-year-old daughter for four months or more. Brunelle knew from his job that all kinds of people did that, and worse, to their children. But jurors were usually good people who lived in suburbs and went to church—they expected everyone else was like them, or should be.