“We were sleeping together, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I grimaced. “It is most definitely not what I was asking.”
She grinned even more. “Same old Ben.”
“You know he’s with someone named Mina now?”
“Oh, yes.”
“But you weren’t involved in Oz’s politics, right? His . . . organization.”
“Have you ever known me to be political?”
“No. Have you met Mina?”
She pressed her fingers against her forehead. “Stuck-up bitch. Can’t stand the woman.”
“She’s been through a lot.”
“That’s what she says. That’s how she stole Oz, playing the poor-pitiful-me card.”
“Have you ever met this . . . Abdullah? The mysterious puppet master?”
“Never. Never want to, either.”
“Good. I think he’s bad news. But to be perfectly blunt, Julia—I kinda think they all are.”
“Even your client?”
“Just because he’s my client doesn’t mean I want him dating my sister.”
“Tell me the truth. Do you think Oz is guilty?”
“I have no idea.”
“You must have an opinion.”
“I think he has dangerous friends and makes dangerous choices.”
“I meant an opinion about his guilt or innocence.”
“It’s my job not to have opinions. I will represent my client with reasonable vigor to the best of my ability. Opinions have nothing to do with it.”
“But still .
“Nope. No clue.”
“I think Oz is innocent. In fact, I know he is.”
“How do you know? Were you at the press conference?”
“No.”
“Do you know something about it? Something you haven’t told me?”
“Nothing like that. I just know Oz. He wouldn’t kill someone, and even if he did, he wouldn’t do it like that.”
“If you only knew how many wives and girlfriends I’ve heard say something like that. And be wrong.”
“It wasn’t Oz. I’m certain.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Our table fell silent. We drank our coffee. We shifted our weight, checked out the view. We were done, basically, except we weren’t. Maybe we would never be done.
This time Julia broke the silence. “How can you live in that house?”
I searched for the right words. “It’s paid for. Might as well get some benefit out of it.”
“I can remember when you couldn’t wait to get out of there.”
“So can I.”
“And now you call it home.”
I shrugged. “Nice neighborhood to raise my girls.”
“If you want them to be doctor’s wives.” Her eyes locked on to mine. I could feel them bearing down on me. “I noticed you don’t use the bed and bath that used to be mine.”
“True.”
She gave me a deadeye glare. “You’re not over it any more than I am. Maybe we never will be. But living in that house, with all that history—that has to weigh on you.”
“I will admit . . . I was hesitant at first. But Christina thought it was a golden opportunity.”
“And you would do anything for that woman.”
“I would. Yes.”
“Even this.”
“Even this.”
“Lucky Christina.” She drained the last of her coffee. “Why couldn’t I find someone like you?”
“I can be pretty exasperating. Or so I’m told.”
“But she knows you love her. Unconditionally. Doesn’t get any better than—” Her voice broke off. “Ben. Look.”
My eyes drifted toward the street. I didn’t have to ask what caught her eye.
Mina was outside in the parking lot.
Watching us.
“How did she know we were here?” Julia asked.
“Only one way possible. She followed us.”
“Why?”
“You know the woman better than I do.”
“Probably stalking me because she thinks I want to take away her man.”
“You know . . . she was brutalized by Nazir, too.”
“So she says.”
“You doubt it?”
“I don’t know. It would explain her crazy behavior. I can only imagine what that kind of treatment might do to a person. To their mind. Plus, she’s Abdullah’s sister.” She almost smiled. “What relationship could be more screwed up than a brother and sister’s?”
I almost smiled back. “Except all of them.”
This time she did laugh. “Exactly.”
28
Christina helped me with my necktie. Tying ties has never been my strong suit.
“I should be coming with you,” Christina said, as she slid the Windsor knot into place.
“The guy specified only one attorney. If two show up, he’ll bolt.”
“Do I really seem that intimidating?”
“Not until you speak.”
“We can’t all get by with the shy-shuffling-bumbler bit.” She laid her hand against my cheek. “Maybe I could watch from a distance. With a pair of binoculars. Like a creeper.”
“Not necessary. I’m impressed Corwin was able to track him down. Now will you agree that he’s a good detective?”
She made a sniffing sound. “He’s no Loving.”
“He’s fine.”
“Loving would never let you meet someone like this alone.”
“He would if I told him to.”
“No. He’d lurk in the bushes and not tell you about it.”
Just like you probably will, I thought, but did not say aloud. “Enjoy some quality time with your daughters.”
“Or I could go shopping. Once the trial starts, I won’t have time. And I’m practically superfluous at home these days. Julia is doing a great job with the girls.”
“She is?”
She gave me a mock slug on the shoulder. “Don’t act so amazed. She is related to you, after all, and you’re a terrific dad. And she’s got prior child-rearing experience, unlike either of us.”
“And Emily?”
Her chin lowered. “Julia is terrific with Emily. Especially Emily.”
“Does Emily . . . respond to her?”
“No more than anyone else. But Julia is patient. She doesn’t mind repeating instructions, if that’s what it takes.”
“I suppose that comes from working with Joey. She’s an expert in—”
“Stop. Stop right now.”
“Christina .
“You heard me.”
“We have to be realistic.”
“Your daughter has never been diagnosed by anyone as autistic.”
“Because she hasn’t seen anyone.”
“And it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she were autistic.”
I withheld my judgment. “We’re going to have to take her to a specialist.”
“And on that subject, Julia knows someone.”
“She does?”
“Perhaps you’re not aware of this, but your little sister is well connected. Particularly in the medical field.”
“Maybe she can set up an appointment.”
“Already done.”
I picked up my briefcase and started toward the door. “Why am I starting to feel like there’s a lot going on I know nothing about?”
“Just paranoid.” She opened the door and pushed me through it. “Go get ’em, tiger.”
***
Once upon a time, Oklahoma was as dry as it was possible to be, but thanks to the efforts of legendary lawmaker Robert S. Kerr and others, we legislated our way into becoming a lake state (even if most of them are completely man-made.)
Lake Hefner is a good example. Maybe God didn’t want water there, but a lot of well-heeled people did. So they expanded the water supply and created a tourist attraction. The area surrounding the lake is perfect for jogging and playing with the kids, flying kite
s, and racing the dog. You can catch surfers and sea kiters in the cove, and when the time comes for grub, you have your choice of a wide array of upscale restaurants.
My favorite part is the lighthouse, out on a finger peninsula jutting into the lake. Purely decorative, of course. Not many ships lost on this completely landlocked reservoir. But there is a park bench beneath the lighthouse, and since it is isolated from everything else, and you can see anyone approaching long before they arrive, it’s the perfect place to meet a potential witness you don’t know anything about.
Corwin had located only one person at the scene of the shooting he thought might be helpful. He was not sure the man would be willing to testify, especially given the outpouring of enmity currently directed toward anyone associated with my client. But getting him to testify was my job. After I determined whether he knew anything useful.
“So you were at the press conference? At the time Nazir was killed?” His name was Emory Walters. White, bearded, on the short side. He managed a downtown Walgreens. Spent most of his time behind the cash register. He wasn’t exactly nervous, but I did detect a sense of unease. Maybe he didn’t like sitting on a park bench with another guy. Especially one he didn’t know.
“I was.” He had a slight accent, not the clipped city sound or the Western Oklahoma drawl.
“What brought you there?”
“Curiosity, mostly. I follow the news. I believe we’re at a crossroads in American history.”
“A crossroads between what and what?”
“Between a powerful nation that becomes more so, and a powerful nation that goes into decline. The Roman Empire in the first century or the Roman Empire in the fourth.”
I’d heard enough comparisons between America and the Roman Empire to fill an almanac, but I rarely thought much of them. Seemed like anytime someone needed proof of the unprovable, they retreated to the Roman Empire. Or Nazi Germany. “We may be having some economic issues, but I don’t think the Huns are going to overrun us anytime soon.”
“But then, neither did the Romans.”
“We also don’t have a culture based on slavery—”
“Not anymore.”
“Or dominated by the military.”
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
“We have a representative democracy.”
“Which is entirely controlled by big money and big business.”
“The Cold War is over.”
“And replaced by hot threats from terrorists, Russia, and North Korea.”
This guy was all over the place. I wasn’t sure if he was ultraliberal, ultraconservative, or ultra nuts. But I wasn’t getting a strong desire to put him on the witness stand. “So I gather it was your interest in politics that brought you to the press conference.”
“I’m a huge fan of the work Nazir did for us. He held back the Huns. Which of course is the Middle East.”
“Some Middle Eastern nations are friendly to the US.”
“Don’t be fooled. They’d take everything we have if we gave them the chance. They’re on a mission to spread sharia law from one end of the globe to the other.”
“Some say that, but there’s no proof.”
“That kind of thinking led to putting a secret Muslim in the Oval Office.”
My Spidey-senses were tingling. “Mind if I ask where you get your information?”
“I’m extremely well read.”
I nodded. “FOX News?”
“Actually, I get most of my facts from the Internet.”
“Ah. Then they must be true.”
“You might be surprised. During the Middle Ages, Europe didn’t realize the threat to the Holy Land until much too late.”
“You’re referring to the Crusades? Europeans who attempted to conquer the Holy Land six times?”
“Seven, actually.”
“And you’re thinking we should do it again?”
“I believe we should stop reacting and start acting. We know they’re coming for us. Much better if we strike first.”
“Invade the Middle East. Take over?”
“What would be the downside?”
“Do we take Israel, too?”
“It would save a lot of lives if we did.”
Walters was a ticking time bomb, and Thrillkill could make him look like a fool. I couldn’t possibly put him on the stand—unless he saw something valuable that I couldn’t get from anyone else. “So you were at the conference because you admired Nazir?”
“And his fight against Abdullah. That man is a butcher.”
“Do you have any proof of this charge?”
“If you want to get all legal about it, there’s no proof Osama bin Laden was behind 9/11. He could never have been convicted in a court of law. So we didn’t waste time bringing him to trial. Abdullah is a determined terrorist tool. It’s just a matter of time until one of his plots succeeds. When he gets the right weapon in his hands, we’ll be toast.” He paused. “Unless we allow people like Nazir to do what they need to do to keep us safe.”
I did my best to steer the discussion back to the press conference. “Did you hear the gunshot?”
“Of course. Everyone did.”
“But no one seems to be sure where it came from. Are you?”
“The sound echoed all around us.”
“The shooter had to be somewhere.”
“Yeah, but acoustics and ballistics can go seriously wonky. Particularly when there’s a lot of concrete around.”
“There were hundreds of people watching. How can it be a mystery where the bullet came from? Someone must have seen a gun.”
He gave me a long look. “Two words. Grassy knoll.”
Point taken. “Did you see my client there?”
“Saw him racing across the plaza like a roadrunner.”
“Did you notice if he held anything?”
“No.”
“Let me put it more directly. Was he holding a gun?”
“Not that I saw.”
Well, that was something.
“Of course, everyone was running every which way at once,” Walters continued. “I only noticed your client because he ran right in front of me. Almost knocked me over. And then he got flattened.”
My head tilted to one side. “Now what?”
“He got tackled. Knocked down like a linebacker. The first of several.”
“Wait. The first of several?”
“Right. One guy knocked him over. Then two others piled on top a second or so later.”
“Like they were working together?”
“I don’t know about that. It all happened quickly, and the plaza was crowded and everyone was running. Two guys on the asphalt created an obstacle. It’s possible the latter two tripped over them. But the end result was a massive pileup. And your guy was on the bottom.”
Which could possibly explain him being knocked unconscious. And having memory problems. “How long did this pileup last?”
“Not that long. The latter two got up fairly quickly and raced away. But the other guy—the first to tackle—took longer. Something was going on, but I was too far away to make it out.”
“Something like . . . maybe . . . the planting of a gun?”
“Like I said, I couldn’t tell.”
“Okay.” Best not to push. He gave me something valuable. I didn’t want to shove him out of his comfort zone. “But that guy, the tackler, did leave eventually.”
“Oh yeah. Then your guy tried to run. And the cops got him.”
I had to put Walters on the stand. Even if Thrillkill did have a heyday with his outlier politics. “I want to thank you for coming forward,” I said. “I appreciate your honesty.”
“Every citizen’s duty,” he replied. “If we don’t stand together, we have no chance against the coming threat. It’s us against them. The American way versus the sharia way. The true America, and the traitors.”
That should have been enough to make me realize he was too dangerous to put on the s
tand. But of course, I didn’t get it. Not till it was too late.
29
Days became weeks, and weeks became months. Life passes with an almost surreal fluidity when you’re trapped in the clutches of an all-consuming case. One moment I was handling the preliminary hearing, and before I even had a chance to come up for air, I was strapping myself into the same suit and staring at a calendar that had but a single notation: TDB.
I didn’t book anything else because there was no way of knowing how long I might be occupied. I didn’t pick a suit I liked much, because I knew that by the end of the day I would be a sweaty, dripping, shaking wreck. I didn’t bring Christina, though she would’ve provided much comfort, because I saw no reason why both parents needed to be completely miserable.
TDB stood for “The Day Before.” Meaning “The Day Before Trial.”
This is why we don’t keep antidepressants in the house. Much too tempting.
All defendants handled it differently, usually depending upon their temperament, whether they were incarcerated, and the gravity of the charges against them. In this case, Oz had remained reasonably restrained throughout the pretrial period, so I had every reason to think a meltdown was imminent. His life was literally on the line, and that would unnerve even the calmest soul. Which Oz wasn’t.
Some of today’s tasks were practical matters that could probably be handled by a competent legal assistant, if I were willing to curse anyone with such work. Making sure Oz had a sufficient clean wardrobe for a trial that would likely go on for many days. They wouldn’t let him keep his clothes in his cell, but they would be made available to him at the appropriate time. Proper grooming. Clean shave. Nails. They didn’t have to glisten, but we didn’t want him coming out looking like Fu Manchu, either. There was no telling what some wacko juror might go off on, and it took only one juror to sway the rest. You could not be too careful.
To give credit where due, Oz looked good when they led him into the small conference room and unshackled him. But I knew it wouldn’t last.
“Would you like a guard to remain present?” That came from Frank Gorman. He knew what I would say. He was just going through the motions.
“No thank you.”
“You have the right to confidentiality, but I have to advise you that if you are subjected to some sort of injury or affront, the government will not be liable. You are on your own.”
Justice Returns (Ben Kincaid series Book 19) Page 15