The Perfect Game

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The Perfect Game Page 10

by Leslie Dana Kirby


  “Dennis,” Lauren said. “Can’t we just let them finish it now so there won’t be a need to go through this again later?”

  Dennis chuckled heartily. “Isn’t she sweet?” he said to Wallace. And to Lauren, he added, “I know you don’t have anything to hide, but it would be unlawful for these officers to continue to search these premises without a valid warrant.”

  “Then let somebody stay until they can get the new warrant. I don’t want them to think I’m hiding anything.”

  “Why don’t you and I step into the other room for a mini-sidebar.”

  In the kitchen, Dennis whispered urgently, “Are you sure you don’t need some time to tidy up before they return with a new warrant?”

  “I’m not worried about anything they might find. I’m more concerned about what it would imply if I make them leave while we’re waiting for the new warrant.”

  Dennis pulled a device from his pocket. “This here device will incapacitate your hard drive and I assure you it’s perfectly legal. Your computer’s listed on the warrant. Are you sure you don’t want to scramble the hard drive before we turn it over?”

  “There’s no need to do that.”

  “Okay. We’ll allow them to stay if you’re sure you don’t need a little time to clean up?”

  “Not at all.”

  “You are a very unusual client.”

  “So you’ve said.” She stepped back into the dining area. “Gentlemen, you’re welcome to stay until you can correct the warrant. Can I offer either of you a Diet Coke? I’m afraid that’s all I have.” Both detectives politely declined. Wallace excused himself to go see the judge.

  Lauren’s cell phone had been placed in full view on the kitchen table. Under Boyd’s watchful eye, Lauren began copying down her most important phone contacts to a piece of paper.

  Once she was done, Dennis asked Lauren to step out to his car where they could talk in private. He asked Boyd to vacate the premises, allowing him to sit on the front stoop in front of the locked apartment.

  Reporters swarmed the parking lot, shoving microphones at them and shouting questions. Dennis offered smooth assurances that Lauren would be vindicated as they walked to his luxury Mercedes. Dennis turned on the air conditioning full-blast, both to cool the car and to mask their conversation from anybody who might try to eavesdrop from nearby.

  “Sorry, but I had to turn Boyd out of your apartment. Something stinks in this case and I don’t trust those bastards not to plant evidence. There must be some reason they are so intent on pursuing you, but I sure as hell can’t figure out what it is. They’ll be back with a new warrant in two shakes of a lamb’s tail and I want to review this search warrant with you, line by line before they return. The first thing on the list is all of your shoes.”

  “All my shoes? As in all of them?”

  “You’ll get ’em back eventually. I’m guessing they want to examine your shoes for blood evidence.”

  “Some of my tennis shoes might have some blood from the ER, but they shouldn’t find Liz’s blood.”

  “Next, they’re looking for anything that might be the murder weapon in this crime, which they are estimating to be a blunt object long enough to swing with momentum, approximately four inches wide at one end. Do you have any bloody two by fours lying around the house?”

  “No, I don’t have anything long enough to swing except my golf clubs.”

  “I hope you don’t have a lot of tee times lined up. They’re probably going to confiscate your clubs. They also plan to seize your computer. That’s standard. You’d be surprised how many people hang themselves with their Internet searches. A lot of folks don’t realize deleted items can be recovered by forensic computer experts.” He eyed her intently. “So, think hard before you answer this question. Have you done anything weird on your computer lately, any Internet searches, emails, funds transfers, that might incriminate you?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever done an Internet search on getting away with murder, the perfect crime, disposing of evidence, anything like that?”

  Lauren laughed out loud before catching sight of Dennis’ expression. “Oh, you’re serious?”

  He nodded soberly. “You’d be surprised what some people do.”

  “Not me.”

  “Okay. The next item, as you already know, calls for seizure of your cell phone. Cell phones are miniature computers these days so the same rules apply. Any incriminating web searches, phone calls, text messages, or the like, even if you deleted them?”

  Lauren hesitated.

  Dennis immediately picked up on it. “Look here, most people have some sort of secret. Unusual sexual practices, pornography habits, illicit drug use, adulterous affairs, and the like. You name it and I’ve had a client involved with it. I can assure you that I’m not here to judge you. But I am here to protect you from the people who will try to. Prosecutors have a field day with stuff like this. They’ll try to convince a jury that if you have one secret, then you probably killed somebody. You and I both know that isn’t true. Whatever it is that you’re mulling over in your mind, it’s in your best interest to share it with me.”

  “It’s about my sister’s husband.”

  “Uh huh. Do you have some sort of dirt on him?

  “What? No. It’s just that we’ve been spending a lot of time together since Liz died and…”

  “I see. And is there evidence of your relationship with Mr. Wakefield on your cell phone?”

  “Nothing explicit. Just phone calls back and forth and occasional text messages.”

  “Do the text messages imply the relationship has become more than friendly?”

  “No. We’ve been spending some time together and he’s gotten me tickets to several of his games, but we’ve been…” she struggled to find the right word, “…cautious.”

  “Thank you for sharing that. I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong, but the cops might interpret your relationship with Mr. Wakefield as a motive to kill your sister.”

  “But there was nothing between us until after she died.”

  “I believe that’s true, but a jury might not. I’m going to advise you to cool things off with Mr. Wakefield for the time being.”

  Tears welled in Lauren’s eyes. Jake was her primary source of support.

  Dennis patted her consolingly. “It’s not forever. If he really cares about you, he’ll be waiting for you on the other end of this. All righty now, the next thing on the list is your financial statements. Do you anticipate any surprises there?”

  “I had to take out loans to pay for medical school.”

  “No other big debts or big purchases?”

  “My old car crapped out a few weeks ago so I bought a new car.”

  Dennis nodded again.

  “And I wrote another huge check recently.”

  Dennis looked apprehensive. “What was that for?”

  “Your retainer.”

  “Ah, yes. And that’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Okay, the final thing on the list says jewelry items. Anything to worry about there.”

  “Not really.”

  “Not really?”

  “Jake did give me one of Liz’s rings. He thought she would want me to have it.”

  Dennis pursed his lips. “And where is that ring now?”

  “In my jewelry box.”

  “And Jake will confirm he gave the ring to you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay. That’s everything.”

  As if on cue, Detective Wallace drove back into the parking lot. Lauren and Dennis returned to watch as the police turned her apartment upside down.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  (Saturday, October 1)

  The search officers filed out shortly after noon, lugging Lauren’s computer, cel
l phone, all of her shoes and jewelry, and her golf clubs, providing Lauren with a few evidence receipts in exchange. Wallace even confiscated the flip-flops Lauren had been wearing, leaving her with no footwear other than a gaudy pair of fluffy white bunny slippers friends had once given her as a joke.

  Lauren still hoped to make it to Chase Field before the 4:10 start time. Despite Dennis’ admonitions, she longed to call Jake in the worst way.

  It took her well over an hour to put things back where they belonged. Then she headed out in her Acura. Spotting a pay phone at a gas station, she fed it coins and dialed Jake’s cell number. He would already be at the stadium, but she hoped to catch him before his warm up. Instead, she got his voice mail.

  “Hey, it’s me. Umm…” Lauren started before remembering that she didn’t have a number to leave for him. “I don’t have my phone right now. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you when I see you.”

  Lauren’s shopping excursion to Kohl’s in her white bunny slippers attracted quite a few bemused glances and at least one out-loud snicker, but she was able to purchase tennis shoes and a pair of flip-flops in less than fifteen minutes.

  As soon as she entered the AT&T store, she was bum-rushed by an employee. “Hey, my name is Cody. How can I help you today?” His eyes widened in surprise. “The Wakefield case, right? I recognize you from the news.” He was tall and gangly, about twenty years old. He might have been cute if not for the bizarre piercing protruding from his lower lip.

  “Don’t believe everything you hear on TV.”

  “No worries. I don’t think you offed your own sister.”

  Lauren attempted a polite smile. “Ummm, so I need a new phone.”

  Cody seemed overly eager to help her out. She wasn’t sure if it was because he felt sorry for her, was impressed by her infamy, or was on commission.

  When the transaction was complete, Cody gave her the new phone, accessories, and his phone number. “Call me some time. We could grab a pizza and hook up.”

  Lauren’s mouth fell open.

  “What, you don’t like pizza?” he grinned.

  Lauren bolted from the store, interpreting the curious stares of all the other customers as accusations boring into her back as she fled.

  She headed straight for the stadium. The four teams in the National League divisional playoffs from best to worst records were the Atlanta Braves, the Arizona Diamondbacks, and the Chicago Cubs, with the Cincinnati Reds as the wild card team. The Diamondbacks were hosting the Cubs at Chase Field. Jake was slated to pitch, so Lauren had arranged to swap this evening’s shift with Ritesh.

  As a matter of discretion, she no longer parked in the VIP lot. She impatiently waited in line for public parking, then hurried to Will Call to pick up her ticket. She was still in the long line when the game started.

  “Lauren Rose,” she told the Will Call clerk.

  The older woman searched the R tickets twice. “Is Rose the last name or the first name?”

  “Last, but people do reverse it sometimes. Maybe it’s under the L’s.”

  “Sorry, it’s not there either. We can search for it using the credit card you bought it with.”

  “A friend bought it for me.”

  “It probably got filed under her name. What’s that?”

  Lauren hesitated. Discretion was paramount, but she was already missing the game. She could hear the crowd cheering periodically. “Wakefield.”

  “Like the pitcher?”

  “Exactly like the pitcher,” Lauren said with a straight face.

  But the clerk still couldn’t locate the ticket. Lauren gave up and approached the sales booth. “Sorry, but we’re all sold out. Everybody wants to see Jake Wakefield pitch now that he’s back on the market.” The gum-chewing girl in the ticket booth giggled.

  Of course it was now impossible to call Jake to ask about her ticket. Why did the cops choose today of all days? She might not get another chance to see Jake pitch again this season. If they lost this series to the Cubs, the Diamondbacks would be done for the year.

  Disheartened, Lauren was trudging back to her car when a scalper offered her a ticket. The seat was terrible, especially compared to those she had become accustomed to, and he was asking three times face value for the ticket, but Lauren leapt at it. When she finally settled into her seat in the middle of the second inning, the Diamondbacks were winning one to zero.

  She indulged in a bag of peanuts and the game allowed her to forget her worries of the day. The crowd was chanting Jake’s name. More than one female fan held up “Marry Me, Jake!” signs. He pitched a great game before he was pulled in the eighth inning to allow a fresh-armed replacement to close the game. The jumbotron showed a close-up of Jake waving as he jogged off the field. Lauren felt uplifted when the Diamondbacks won the game, three to two.

  After the game, Lauren headed to Jake’s house where they had agreed to meet for a late meal and post-game discussion. She sat alone at the dining table where she had placed a Chick-Fil-A bag with a salad (his) and chicken nuggets (hers). A long hour passed and she began to worry that he had forgotten that they were meeting tonight. Her work schedule only allowed for erratic attendance at his games.

  Suddenly, Jake was hugging her from behind, whispering in her hair, “I’ve been worried sick about you. When I got that voice mail from you, I thought you had been arrested. I tried to call back and there was no answer. I called the detectives, but those bastards wouldn’t tell me anything. I almost pulled myself from the game. I’ve been so worried.”

  Lauren filled him in on the day’s events. He laughed appreciatively when she told him about the mistake on the search warrant. “Those detectives are so dumb, blondes tell jokes about them.”

  “Dennis said you’re going to need to confirm you gave me that ring.”

  “Happy to. I’ll give Detective Walrus a call first thing in the morning and let them know it was a gift. I gave them an inventory of the missing jewelry so it shouldn’t be a problem anyway. I keep telling those jerks they’re barking up the wrong tree, but they seem to enjoy chasing their tails.”

  “Dennis asked me to stop spending time with you,” Lauren said, her eyes filling with tears.

  He nodded. “My lawyer called last night when all those news stories about you started going viral. He told me the same thing. It sucks, but we’ll survive it.”

  “Your lawyer?”

  “The family lawyer. The guy my dad keeps bugging me about. My parents are paranoid. They go on and on about how husbands always get accused. Of course, this might be a good thing. They won’t find anything suspicious in your apartment. After they figure that out, maybe they’ll finally change direction on this thing. Then we can get back to our usual lives. In the meantime, we just have to be careful.”

  Lauren swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded.

  “On a happier note, did you enjoy the game?”

  Lauren explained how she hadn’t been able to retrieve her ticket from Will Call and he swore under his breath. “Damn it. I bought an awesome seat for you. I can’t believe they lost it.”

  Lauren joked about her nosebleed seat in the third tier. They analyzed the game in great detail as they always enjoyed doing. Jake was exalted about the win. This was the best year he had ever had.

  That is, the best year in baseball.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  (Sunday, October 2–Friday, October 7)

  The other interns rallied around Lauren, recognizing her life had become a hurricane and she was in a sinking rowboat struggling to bail water. Practical jokes were rampant in an effort to lighten the mood. For one shift, Lauren had opened her locker to discover that Ritesh had adorned her stethoscope with Mickey Mouse stickers. More patients than ever before had questioned Lauren’s age and credentials. In return, Lauren and LaRhonda stuffed Ritesh’s locker full of free handouts from the public he
alth department. When Ritesh opened the door, hundreds of condoms rained down on him.

  New media stories about Lauren were released nearly every day. Dennis’ team was reviewing each of them and he had promised to file legal action against any news outlet reporting slanderous information. However, most of the news stories skated on the edge of deception, combining factual information (such as the search of her apartment) with salacious “allegations” that Lauren had killed Liz.

  Dennis capitalized on every opportunity to address the media on Lauren’s behalf. “I implore the Scottsdale Police Department to stop these prejudicial leaks which falsely implicate Lauren Rose. Such breaches are unethical and unprofessional. Any member of the investigative team releasing information outside of their chain of command is acting in direct violation of procedure and undermining public confidence. It is unconscionable to try Dr. Rose in the press when she has never been charged with any crime.”

  The Scottsdale Police public affairs officer was also frequently featured, emphatically denying that leaks were emanating from the department.

  Jake remained a beacon of hope in Lauren’s stormy world. Despite the risks, they maintained telephone contact and he convincingly reassured her everything would turn out fine. However, she had not seen him for the entire week. Between her work hours, his trips to Chicago, and reporters following them both, it had been impossible to get together.

  Jake contacted Lauren after each of his games so they could discuss the plays, coaching calls, and pitching decisions. Debating game strategy allowed them both to tune out the outside world for a short time. Jake called from Chicago shortly after the Diamondbacks won their third game against the Cubs. “Now if we can just get past the Braves, I’m going to the World Series. Can you believe it?”

  “Of course I believe it. You deserve it. And you guys are definitely going to get past the Braves. Have you seen their batting averages? They couldn’t hit a pitch thrown by a Little Leaguer.”

 

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