“Well, he was shouting,” she said dubiously. “What do you mean, what did he do?”
“Did he pull a knife?”
“I didn’t see one. Doesn’t mean he didn’t have one, though.”
“What was he saying?”
She shook her head in disbelief. “I wasn’t listening, to tell you the truth. I was scared out of my brains.”
“Is it possible Cody Stinson just wanted to talk?”
“He knocked Angel down,” she said slowly. “So, no. I wouldn’t say so.”
“After she jumped on his back.”
“He jumped us,” she said firmly.
“After you screamed and kicked him.”
“What was I supposed to do! He’s a murderer and he shows up in the woods by the beach where I’m supposed to be meeting my fiancé! I’m damn proud we fought back!”
Jack calmed her down, praising her quick thinking, all the while making his points for the judge. When they got to the event at the women’s shelter, he tried for similar points. Why did Stinson knock? Hadn’t he said he just wanted to talk to them that night, too? Wasn’t it possible the broken window was just a result of his frustration about not getting their attention? He established that the Taylor-Ford home and Ford’s office were listed, as were Angel’s address and workplace, “accessible to anyone that can read.”
When he finished, his usually cool forehead had a sheen of moisture. “Brandy’s got the judge diving for his hanky,” Jack whispered to Nina. “Did you have to pick a client who’s so damn adorable and sympathetic?”
Cody Stinson’s jail jumpsuit hung on him. Escorted into the court by a guard, he took the stand nervously, stroking his goatee while Nolan shuffled through her notebooks for a minute. Then Nolan introduced herself and established that he was at present incarcerated and awaiting a trial in a murder case.
“You know why you’re here today?” Nolan asked.
He pulled his mouth into a pucker. “I guess to say bad things about that attorney over there, Nina Reilly.”
“Do you know Ms. Reilly?”
“Not personally, no.”
“You have nothing personal against her.”
“No.”
“And no reason to say bad things.”
“Right.”
“You are accused of murdering Phoebe Palladino at Campground by the Lake in South Lake Tahoe in the early-morning hours of September the first, last year?”
“I didn’t do it.”
“You’ve spoken to your attorney regarding your testimony here today?”
“I’ve waived my right to be silent and take the Fifth Amendment in writing. I want to talk about this. If I don’t say anything, I’ll never get out. You know, they let Mario Lopez go because of those bozo women. That’s just so lame.”
“We’re not here to determine your innocence or guilt, Mr. Stinson. What we’d like you to tell the court is how you received information about a confidential file on your case. How did you hear that Brandy Taylor and Angel Guillaume had some information of interest to the police regarding you in that case?”
“That’s easy. Somebody called me and told me.”
“Somebody?”
“Just a voice on the phone.”
“What did this person say exactly?”
“He-or she, whatever it was, said that these two women were running all over town telling everybody that they saw me kill Phoebe, which was a lie!”
“Up until that point, the police were looking at another suspect, isn’t that so?”
“Mario. Mario Lopez, that’s right.”
“In fact, you had established an alibi, which the police seemed to believe.”
“That broke down when those women said they saw me at the campground.”
“Made you mad, didn’t it?”
“Well, let’s face it. I knew I didn’t hurt Phoebe. I was just trying to save everybody the trouble of getting confused about what happened. I knew it would look bad, me being at the campground that night later. If I could, I would have kept my alibi.”
“Not only did it make you mad, it attracted the police’s attention.”
“Right. It looked like, up to that point, they didn’t think I was involved.”
“In fact, you were arrested as a result of the information Brandy Taylor and Angel Guillaume gave to the district attorney’s office. You must have seen that coming. You must have been upset.”
“Your Honor,” Jack said, “asked and answered.”
“Let’s not belabor the point,” said Brock. “Con-tinue.”
“What specific information did that person who called give you regarding the identity, whereabouts, and intentions of these witnesses?”
“He gave me their addresses, including one for a beauty salon where one of them worked, and the Ford guy’s office. Told me they were planning to go to the D.A. to say things about me.”
“When you received this information, what was your reaction?”
“I wanted to talk to them.”
“You wanted to talk,” Nolan repeated, eyes rolling slightly. “Mr. Stinson”-Nolan waved a stapled pile of papers at him-“isn’t it true that you stalked and assaulted these two women on at least two separate occasions with the intention of scaring them so completely they would never testify against you?”
“That’s sheer bullsh-they jumped me!”
“And, Mr. Stinson, in between surprising the two women on the beach and again at the women’s shelter at Tahoe, where you broke a window, frightening and disturbing the residents, you took the time to drive to Palo Alto and use these terrifying tactics, verbally abusing and attempting to assault Brandy’s fiancé, Bruce Ford?”
“What is this? I thought this was about how bad she was, not how bad I am! I didn’t attack nobody, not Phoebe, not those women, not that wuss Ford. I just wanted to straighten things out with them.”
“By straightening, do you mean you wanted them to leave town and not testify against you?”
He folded his arms. “That would suit me, yeah. Because they were lying.”
“Uh huh,” said Nolan. “If you had not received that anonymous phone call, would you have known about the potential witnesses?”
“Probably not. No.”
“You would not have gone after them?”
“To talk to them! No.”
“That’s all.”
Jack stood while Nolan sank back into her chair.
“Mr. Stinson, tell us more about what happened at the beach that day that you came upon Brandy Taylor and Angel Guillaume. What was your intention on that day?”
“I went there to talk to them, I swear. How many times do I have to tell you people?”
“Did you take a knife along?”
“No!”
“A gun?”
“No.”
“A weapon of any kind?”
“I didn’t take a weapon. These were women. I didn’t go looking for trouble.”
“Yet you ended up in a fight, didn’t you?”
“Like I said before, they jumped me first. Of course I’m not going to just take that. I pushed ’em off.”
“And at the women’s shelter?”
“Christ, I even knocked! Next thing I know, there’s a lady I never saw before waving a rifle at me.”
“When you went to Bruce Ford’s-”
“Okay, I was a little drunk. I said a few things. He’s a man, supposedly. I didn’t expect him to give in easy. I was just trying to be forceful, but I never laid a hand on him.”
Jack shifted gears. “Mr. Stinson, were there many people camping nearby the night that Phoebe Palladino died?”
“The place was packed.”
“Isn’t it possible someone else at the campground saw something that night, even saw Brandy and Angel leaving their tent, and you leaving Phoebe’s tent?”
“Sure. Anything’s possible. Who would have thought those two would happen to need to pee just the very second I was leaving the tent, huh?”
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“Are you hard to find?”
“What?”
“Are you listed in the local directory?”
“Yes.”
“So anyone, anyone at the camp that night, might have called you?”
“Anyone can call me.”
“So an attorney’s missing files aren’t the only way someone might come to know about you or your return to the campground later that night?”
“You’re good, man,” Cody Stinson said. “That’s right except for one thing. How would anyone know my name?”
“Did the ranger take your name?”
“Well, yeah, but-”
“Who was there when he took down your name?”
“We had quite an audience, yeah, we did. You’re right! Maybe it was the old guy from Cambria at the campsite on the other side who kept hollering at us to shut up who saw and heard everything. Maybe he called me.”
“Thank you. That’ll be all,” Jack said.
On the way out of court, Nina walked over to Cody Stinson, who was sitting at the small round table in the reception area leafing through a magazine. “Thank you for your testimony,” she said. “I think you tried to be very honest,” which was a way of flattering him without saying he was honest, since she didn’t know.
He put his magazine down. “You’re the first to say so.”
“I’ve been wondering about the woman who alibied you,” she said. “My investigator tells me her name is Carol Ames.”
“She doesn’t know anything. Anyway, she’s out of the picture now.”
“You haven’t spoken with her lately?”
“No. Why?”
Nina smiled. “I don’t know why I thought about her. I guess I wondered if she was a girlfriend or something.”
“Not that it’s your business,” he said, “but I loved Phoebe. Everyone forgets I lived with her for nearly a year before Mario got out.”
“Oh, well. It’s probably nothing-”
“What?”
“Forget it,” she said. “I just-you don’t know where she is?”
“Not at the moment. But I could find her easy enough if I wanted to.”
“Hmm. Well, thanks anyway.”
She walked away, feeling his eyes on her back, a thought forming in her mind. She felt like a girl plucking daisies to determine her lover’s deepest feelings, impractical, but she couldn’t sit back and do nothing.
22
“T HANKS FOR PICKING ME UP,” Nina told Paul. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. I couldn’t face a two-hundred-mile drive all the way back to Tahoe tonight, and anyway, I left my car there. Wish dropped me here this morning. He said he wanted to play in the city, but I know he just wanted to help.”
They walked side by side through the evening crowd toward a nearby parking lot to retrieve his Mustang. “We’ll be efficient,” Paul said, “make this a nonstop run if you like. But why are you going back tonight? You’re going to have to leave very early in the morning to get back here in time for court.”
“I have to get back to Bob. I spoke with Matt at lunch. He’s spending the night at the hospital with Andrea, and his kids are staying with friends. I couldn’t manage to organize anything else for Bob on such short notice.”
“Is Andrea okay?”
“Fine, I’m told, except her blood pressure’s up. She needs some bed rest. It’s tough when you’ve got two kids already and you’re nearly nine months along.”
“What are you going to do about Bob?”
“Well, after tonight, he could stay with Matt, although it’s a bad time for them.” She fretted. “Maybe I’ll just pack him and his books up and bring him back here. He could stay at the hotel with me or at Jack’s until we’re through.”
“Good plan.”
“Paul, today at court-Brandy mentioned some woman in the campground bathroom at about the same time Cody Stinson returned to the tent. And then Stinson testified and mentioned this woman, Carol Ames. What do you know about her?”
“You mean Cody Stinson’s alibi?”
“Right.”
“I told you I checked into their history. She’s an old flame. They broke up when he took up with Phoebe, nearly a year before Phoebe was killed. She’s been dating other guys since then, although I’m told there’s nothing serious. She’s some kind of freelancer. Works out of her house doing medical billing, I believe.”
He opened the door for Nina, which she appreciated. She reached down and took off her shoes and loosened her belt. “I don’t like being a defendant.”
“Hang in there.”
“Jack seems to know what he’s doing.”
“Seems to.”
“Anyway, about Carol Ames. Wonder what she saw in Cody. She sounds almost respectable.”
Paul got in and buckled up. He looked left, then right, then turned right on Howard and began to zigzag up and down short blocks, apparently hoping to blaze an unknown route to the Bay Bridge that no one else in San Francisco had discovered. “She loved that drug-dealin’, motorcycle-lovin’ Cody Stinson,” he said, “for whatever reason. But then, all couples are hard to picture.” The car lurched across an intersection on a red light. “Look at you and me.”
“Oh, no, let’s not.” She planted a kiss on his cheek. “I just want to hop on the back of your Mustang and ride off into the sunset, or toward the sunrise, in this case.”
“We don’t spend enough time together, Nina. You’re with Jack all the time.”
“I spend more time with him now than I did when we were married, isn’t that odd? I like him better this way, doing his job, being a pro, standing by me like he never did when we were married.” She smiled. “He’s redeemed himself.”
Paul said, watching the road, “He’s seeing someone.”
“Good,” Nina said. She hesitated. She didn’t want to know about it. “Were you worried that Jack and I might-”
“Not a bit,” Paul said. “I’m the better man and you’re smart enough to know it.”
“You weren’t a little bit-jealous?”
Paul snorted.
“You were,” Nina said.
“I’ll be glad when this inquisition is over and we can both get on with our lives. Then let’s resume where we left off in Carmel last summer, Nina. Could we do that?”
“Paul, why did you take the LSAT?”
“Why did you?” He didn’t sound happy.
“Did you really want to be a lawyer?”
“I would have been a terrible lawyer. I’m not a desk type. And lawyers work too many hours. I like what I do now.”
She didn’t quite believe him. Was that why Paul seemed so cavalier about the risk of her disbarment, because of some disappointment in his past? She thought about that, but couldn’t reach any conclusions, so she turned her attention to the erratic behavior of their fellow rush-hour motorists and the way Paul skidded through intersections on reds. Beginning to adjust her belt lower on her hips, she stopped and thought, well, if I die, at least I won’t have to come back here tomorrow morning to face the hangman.
They reached the bridge. Traffic suddenly moved right along. Paul sped up.
“Maybe Carol Ames liked excitement. She got that with Cody. I keep thinking about her,” Nina said. “About the campground. About what happened that night. About how Brandy and Angel saw a woman leaving the bathroom. It could have been any female camper, of course. It probably was. But I just keep thinking about Cody’s friend, Carol. How she loved him. How he came to her that night for the first time in a long time. Don’t you think she’d notice if he left? I would.”
Paul said, “There’s no special reason to put the two women together, Ames and the woman in the bathroom. But it’s a thought. Ames moved out of her place a while ago. You want me to locate her? I know who could help. John Kelly could.”
“Who’s that?”
“Stinson’s best friend. An old friend of Carol’s, too. I ran into his name a couple of months ago when I was looking at the drug connection.
He did a little business with Mario and Cody a long time ago.”
“Do you think this is too far-fetched?”
“For me it’s just another evening like so many evenings before, without my love in my arms. I might as well eat poorly and hunt down another guy’s old girlfriend. Oh, Nina, I miss you.”
Inspired by this comment and further comments on the topic, they didn’t make it all the way to Tahoe nonstop. At eight-thirty she called Bob from her mobile phone explaining that she would be a little later than expected. She and Paul registered at a historic hotel on the main street in Placerville, stripped, and jumped together into the fresh, starchy sheets. For an hour they kissed, murmured, and touched each other’s skin. For Nina, the release felt fantastic, her passion intensified by her inner turmoil.
Later, eating shrimp salad on the balcony overlooking the main street while Paul had a nap, Nina realized that she wasn’t thinking at all about the hearing. Paul was the subject on her mind.
She loved Paul. She didn’t know what she would do about it, but she felt a decision was imminent, forming somehow out of her situation.
She woke him up a few minutes later. They got to Tahoe by ten. Kissing her warmly, he dropped her at the house on Kulow, declining to come inside. “I love you,” he said.
She kissed him again, not able to say the words.
“Bob?” she said, unlocking the door to their cabin. Strange that Hitchcock did not seem to be anywhere around. She dropped her small suitcase and briefcase right inside the entryway and dragged the house, calling for Bob and for Hitchcock. She checked Bob’s room, finding the door closed, lights off, and blinds shut. Hitchcock was definitely not at home, and neither, it seemed, was Bob.
In the kitchen, she pulled out some old wheat bread, spread peanut butter and jelly on it, and called Matt at the hospital. “How’s it going?”
“Andrea’s doing well. Should go home in the morning.”
“Matt, have you seen any sign of the boy?”
“Your boy? Why, no,” he said. “How’d it go at the hearing?”
“I’ll tell you later.” She asked some more after Andrea, but the questions were pro forma and he knew it, so they kept the conversation short. Pouring herself a drink from a pitcher of iced tea she found in the refrigerator, she called Taylor Nordholm’s house and got stuck in a diatribe his mother launched about the high school. “Have you seen Bob?” she finally asked.
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