Harper Ross Legal Thrillers vol. 1-3

by Rachel Sinclair

  He also probably thought that I was crazy at this point. I wouldn’t blame him if he did. After all, I threatened to shoot myself and begged him to shoot me. He had visited me while I was in jail, and he had assured me that he still cared for me, but I had my doubts. I was acting crazy, and I knew it.

  I checked into the hotel, and lay down on the bed. To my surprise, I found myself closing my eyes and falling right to sleep.

  THE VERY NEXT DAY, I got up bright and early. I had no idea when I could catch Louisa, but I knew that I would have a better chance of catching her in the morning than at any other time. I didn’t want to give her the chance to go to the beach or to brunch or whatever it is she typically would do on a Saturday afternoon here in sunny San Diego. It might have been late September, almost October, but it was incredibly warm. The weather called for it to be 90 degrees. I didn’t know what kind of a person she was, but most people would want to take advantage of this weather while they could.

  It was 7 AM, and I had her address. It was in La Mesa, which was a suburb of San Diego in East County. I hopped on the 8 highway and headed East. My heart was racing 100 MPH. This was the biggest risk I had taken yet in my career. The payoff would be enormous, but there was just as big of a chance that this could turn out to be a total disaster. A total, and very expensive, disaster.

  I got to her house, which was a typical ranch-style home built in the 1950s. Stucco siding, shingled roof, all one level. The street was tree-lined, but didn’t have any sidewalks, and the power lines were exposed and ugly and went all the way up to the top of the street. The houses weren’t large, but I knew that they were expensive, nonetheless. These were homes that could be bought for $500,000+, which would buy an absolute mansion back home, but here, it could buy a three-bedroom modest ranch on a street that had no sidewalks and exposed power lines.

  The GPS showed me that I was at the house.

  I went to the door and rang the bell.

  And tried to calm my racing heart.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  A man opened the door. “I have a sign here that says ‘no soliciting,’” he said, pointing to a small silver sign that said just that. “So whatever it is you’re selling, I’m not buying.”

  The man was just over six feet tall, wearing shorts and a golf shirt. He was sixtiesh, trim and fit, with salt and pepper hair, a tanned and slightly wrinkled face, a bulbous nose and blue eyes. He was a handsome guy for his age, and I could see Louisa in him. I figured that this was her father.

  “I’m not trying to sell anything. I’m looking for Louisa Garrison. I have some extremely important business with her and I need to see her. Please.”

  What if he didn’t let me talk to Louisa? What then? I couldn’t barge my way in there. I couldn’t call the cops to make him let me talk to her. It would be over then. Over.

  “She’s not here,” he said.

  I cleared my throat, feeling my heart sink. “Can I ask when she’s going to be back?”

  “Who may I tell her is calling?” He looked at me suspiciously.

  “My name is Harper Ross,” I said. I was going to give him my Bar Card, but thought better of it. I didn’t want him to be any more suspicious of me than he already was.

  “And what is this regarding?”

  “It’s a private business matter.”

  “You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

  “She’ll know what it’s regarding when you tell her that I’m looking for her. When she hears my name, she’ll know just what I need from her.”

  He crossed his arms. “If you want me to even tell her that you stopped by, you’re going to have to-“

  At that, I turned around, because I heard footsteps behind me and voices. Two female voices.

  There was Louisa, dressed in a t-shirt dress, and I could see that she was wearing a swimsuit underneath it. She had a straw hat on her head and flip-flops on her feet. On her nose was zinc oxide, like lifeguards use while they’re working. I could smell pina colada suntan lotion on her. She looked relaxed and younger than when I saw her in her office.

  “I forgot something,” she said to her father and she looked at me. “Hello.” She looked down at the ground, and I knew that she was hiding some deep shame. I could see it on her face. “Ms. Ross.”

  I felt my heart-rate start to decline, just a little. This was just the first step, but at least I caught her. “Ms. Garrison, I need to speak with you. It’s urgent. A person’s life literally depends upon it.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “I hoped that I could run away and just forget about this, but you can never outrun fate.” She motioned to her car, where there was a woman in the passenger’s seat who had a questioning look on her face. “I was heading to the beach this morning. It’s tough to find a parking space if you go too late. But I think that I need to talk to you instead. Let me call Uber, and I’ll have them come and take Lynda home.”

  She went to her car and I saw her talking to the woman in the passenger’s seat. The woman nodded her head, and I saw Louisa doing something on her phone. I assumed that she was calling the Uber, and I hoped that was what she was doing.

  She got out of the car. “The Uber car will be here in a few minutes,” she said. “Why don’t we go down to Denny’s? It’s just down the street. We can get some breakfast and talk.” She whispered. “Talk so that my father doesn’t hear.”

  The Uber car came and picked up her friend, and Louisa and I went to her car. As I sat there next to her, I could feel my blood pressure lessen more and more. Maybe this was going to be okay after all. Maybe I was going get what I needed from her.

  “I know why you’re here,” she said. “ And I’m actually glad that you are. I did the wrong thing, the absolute wrong thing, about three months ago. I’ve laid awake nights, every night, agonizing over it. But I’ve been too cowardly to do anything about it. I’ve prayed that something would happen to give me answers. Prayed for that every night. God, give me a sign. Any sign. And here you are. My sign. I now know what I have to do.”

  We got to the restaurant, and I could feel my heart soaring. This was good. This was very good. She was sounding like she was going to do it. Give me the butcher knife, have it dusted for finger-prints, have her tell the jury that she took it and that the knife was in Connie’s hand when she died. Maybe even tell the jury about the Reverend instructing Connie to kill Heather. That would be all that I could ever hope for.

  We sat down, ordered, and I looked at her. I had a pad of paper in front of me, and a pen, and I was ready to write. “Okay,” I said. “You know why I came here. I need to ask you questions.”

  She nodded her head. “Yes. Yes, I have the butcher knife.” She looked out the window. “God, that feels so good to tell you that. I have it. I know that I’m going to go to prison for doing that. Tampering with a crime scene. But the Lord has showed me the way and He brought you out here. I can’t argue with that.”

  I felt myself completely relaxing. In place of the squeezing anxiety was a sense of peace. Of joy. I knew that I did the right thing. Heather had a chance.

  “What else can you tell me?”

  “About what?”

  “About the Reverend Scott? Did he tell Connie that she should kill Heather? I know that he has been brainwashing the congregants in the church, telling them to kill their gay kids. I know that. I need to know he told Connie to kill Heather while you were present in the room.”

  She sighed. “You’re asking a lot from me. Reverend Scott is dangerous. Very dangerous. I’m in hiding here. He knows where I am, but he told me that if I ever breathed a word about what he did, that I am a dead woman. I can’t give you what you want there.” Her face got red. “I need to tell you, though. Since the Lord sent you, I have to unburden myself. But I can’t say this on the stand. Not if I want to live.”

  I nodded my head, hoping that she would change her mind, but needing to hear it, anyhow.

  “Yes,” she said. “I was his assistant
. His right-hand person. I was so brainwashed that I went along with it. It took a lot of praying for guidance to get my head straight on what was happening at that church. But yes. Reverend Scott is evil. I know that now. He had this vision that homosexuality needs to be wiped off the face of the earth. Transgenderism too. Transgenderism was prioritized in his eyes – it had to be wiped out first. So he did tell parents of gay children what they had to do. Try to change them, and if they couldn’t be changed, they needed to kill them. I was there when Reverend Scott told Connie that.”

  She had a cup of coffee, and she took a sip of it. She looked out the window again.

  I sighed. I was right after all. My hunches were true. Now, I just had to get it out of her. Somehow, someway. “You can’t testify to this on the stand?”

  “No,” she said. “Please don’t ask me to. I will lie if you ask me to. I know that’s a crime, too, perjury, but you have to understand – if I get up there and tell the court that, Reverend Scott will kill me. Literally. I would be risking my life even going to court to testify to anything at all. But I will. I will testify about the butcher knife. That’s necessary. But I just can’t testify about what I know about the Reverend Scott and that church.”

  Half a loaf was better than none. “I hope that you change your mind, but can I get you to get on a plane? Like today? I need to get you on that witness stand Monday.”

  She nodded her head. “It’s the Lord’s will, obviously. If the Lord didn’t want that, then you would not have been sent to me.”

  I was also going to tell her about Heather being her daughter, although I was quite sure that she would consider Heather to be her son. I didn’t want to lay it on her, however. It might be too much, too soon.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “No. Please don’t thank me. I did something very, very wrong. I don’t even know why I did it. I just panicked, I guess. I didn’t want Connie’s memory to…” She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “I loved her. I might as well tell you that. I did. I loved her. And I didn’t want to think of her as violent. I knew that the Reverend was telling her to be violent, and I was brainwashed to believe that killing homosexuals and transgendered people was the right thing for society. It wasn’t. I know that now. It was evil. I’m in a different church now, out here. It’s a Lutheran Church, and it’s all about love and forgiveness. Nothing about hate or judgment or violence. It’s really based on the Lord’s word, not on some kind of perversion of The Bible. The Reverend perverted The Bible and used it for his own agenda. I’ve prayed on this so many evenings, and that’s what I finally discovered. That the Reverend is evil.”

  “And he must be stopped,” I said. Then I narrowed my eyes. “And I think that I know a way.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Monday Morning

  “Okay,” I said to Heather. “I think that we’re on our way.”

  I met her at her halfway house that morning. She looked like she was ready to go. She was wearing a grey pantsuit with flared legs, high-heeled pumps, with a light-blue button-down under her jacket. Her makeup was pared-down, except for her lipstick, which was a light-brown that went perfectly with her skin-tone.

  “You know,” I said, looking at her. “Once you beat this charge, you should be a personal shopper or a makeup artist or something like that. You really have a certain sense of style. Maybe you can start with me, because I could use a stylist.”

  “You certainly could,” she said, looking me up and down. “I mean, I’m sorry to tell you this, but your clothes are boring. Borrrinnngg.”

  I had to admit that she was right about that. I had endless navy suits that all seemed to look the same to me after awhile. They got the job done, in that I knew that I looked professional, but I certainly didn’t look like I belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine. Heather had a certain fashion sense – she had a flair, but she never looked inappropriate. And her makeup was exquisite. She had a great hand and really knew how to either make herself look understated or bold, depending on the situation.

  I had met with Heather the day before, along with Louisa. Heather initially gave Louisa the stink-eye when Louisa told her what she had done. But Heather was also grateful that Louisa was willing to come. I also went to the police station and gave them the butcher knife, so that they could do their forensic analysis on it. I had them put a rush on it, and Axel was instrumental in making sure that the cops did just that. They did their analysis, and agreed to take the stand to testify that Connie’s fingerprints were on the knife and Heather’s weren't.

  We were ready to go.

  My heart was still pounding when I drove to the courtroom, though. What if Louisa got cold feet and she ran again? She actually agreed to go ahead and testify to everything that I needed her to testify to. I devised a plan, on the fly, really, to have Axel in the courtroom. I knew that the Reverend would also be in the courthouse, because I was going to call him as a witness. He wouldn’t be in the courtroom, because, as a witness, he couldn’t be in the courtroom because he wouldn’t be allowed to hear other witness’ testimony, but he would be around the courthouse somewhere. And once Louisa told the court that the Reverend instructed parents to kill their children, including Connie, Axel would have probable cause to arrest him. Finally. He agreed to do just that – arrest the Reverend and take him into custody.

  “While he’s out on bail, he can kill me,” Louisa said, clearly worried.

  “After your testimony, he will be charged with multiple counts of murder. Just like Charles Manson – Manson never killed anybody, but he had his minions kill. Reverend Scott will be charged just like Manson. No judge is going to give him a bond when he has that many charges against him.”

  Not that I was totally sure about that, but I was reasonably sure.

  “What about me? Won’t I be an accessory?”

  “You would be, but I can cut you a deal. Your testimony is going to be invaluable. I can get you a deal for immunity in exchange for your testimony against him.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “It will work out. I promise you.”

  She sighed. “I hope so. I’m terrified, though.”

  “I know,” I said. “Be brave, though. You need to do this. What that Reverend is doing isn’t right. You can bring him down. Only you.”

  So, we had our plan.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  “I’m not going to allow you to put Louisa Garrison on the stand,” Vince said to me. “You didn’t make her available before trial, so you can’t call her.”

  We were in the courtroom early, because I had to clear Louisa’s testimony before the judge. I knew that there was going to be a problem, but I hoped that the judge would side with me.

  “Is this true, Ms. Ross? Ms. Garrison wasn’t made available prior to trial?” Judge Reiner was still irritated with me, but it seemed that he had calmed down quite a bit. After all, the train was back in the station and ready to leave. The trial was back on, and we were heading down the home stretch. That made Judge Reiner happy. “But you know that you’re still on thin ice, don’t you, Ms. Ross? After your stunt, you’re on very thin ice.”

  “Yes, that’s true that I never made Ms. Garrison available for depositions or interviews. She went into hiding. I didn’t know where she was until last Tuesday, when I found out she was in California.”

  Judge Reiner sat back in his enormous chair and scowled at me. “Oh, so that was why you played those games? To get to her in California? I’m warning you, Ms. Ross, if you ever, and I mean ever, try something like that again, I’ll have you put in the brig. I won’t give you a chance to come back. You’ll just be in jail.”

  “I understand.”

  “Okay, then, I’m going to go ahead and disallow her testimony,” he said. “You didn’t give Mr. Malloy a chance to depose her or talk to her prior to trial, so her testimony isn’t going to be allowed.”

  I was prepared for this. “Okay, then, I’ll call her as a rebuttal witness.” I smirked at Vince.
His little stunt in putting the Reverend up on the stand opened the door for me to get Louisa on the stand. It didn’t matter that I didn’t make her available to Vince before trial, because she wasn’t going to be a witness in my case in chief. She was going to be a witness whose testimony was going to be contradict that of the Reverend.

  “A rebuttal witness?” Judge Reiner said. “Whose testimony is she going to rebut?”

  “The Reverend Scott’s.”

  Vince shook his head. “Judge Reiner, if her witness is just going to be rebut the Reverend, then she’s not relevant to this case. Nothing that the Reverend said on the stand was relevant to this case. None of what he said would even begin to help the jury ascertain what happened between the defendant and the deceased.”

  I gave Vince a look, and Judge Reiner picked up on it. “Well, that’s rich, Mr. Malloy. Really rich. You put him on the stand. You did. Now you’re going to try to tell me that his testimony should be essentially disallowed for lack of relevance? Is that your argument?”

  Vince looked frustrated. “Yes and no. My argument is that I don’t see where Ms. Garrison’s testimony is going to help the jury decide anything.”

  “It will,” I said. “Trust me, her testimony is key.”

  “Okay, Ms. Ross, tell me. I’m waiting here with bated breath. Tell me what her testimony is going to be.”

  “She’s going to testify that she was in the room when the Reverend Scott told Connie that she had to kill Heather.”

  Vince rolled his eyes. “You’re still on this, huh? You just won’t quit.”

  “No, I won’t quit. This testimony is key to my defense.” I turned to the judge. “And if you don’t let her testimony in, I will have a perfect argument for the appeals court.”

  “I’ll allow it,” he said.

  “I knew you would.”

  “But Ms. Ross, I’m going to lay down the parameters on what you can ask your witness. Her testimony can only consist of words that directly rebut what the Reverend said on the stand. Nothing else. If you go fishing with this witness, I will shut it down. I’m not above calling a mistrial, even at this point. Especially at this point. I’m still pissed about your little stunt, so I’m in no mood to give you any quarter. Do you understand me?”