The Witness Series Bundle

by Rebecca Forster

  "Here you are. The D.A.'s having a field day." Jude greeted her as if she was just in time for cocktails. He motioned to a client chair.

  "Who's that with him?" Josie asked as she took a seat.

  "That's Sharon Flaggerty, the Pacific Park spokesperson."

  "Turn it up."

  Josie wiggled her fingers at the plasma screen embedded in the wall. Jude touched a button somewhere on the desk and the sound went up. It was a wonderful toy and the exquisite color and clarity did Sharon Flaggerty's blonde good looks justice. What was coming out of her mouth was equally slick. She was a well-spoken, businesslike young woman who seemed to have mastered the art of the spin, and it was spiraling toward the Daily Breeze reporter.

  "Of course it's been difficult for Pacific Park to remain silent and endure the charges of willful misconduct and negligence levied against us by Mr.Getts. We are a family owned, family oriented business and it hurts that some people think we participated in a cover-up. As you now know, we could not release information relevant to a civil trial while we were cooperating with the District Attorney on a criminal matter. Pacific Park was dedicated to getting justice for a young boy, even if our own reputation suffered."

  "Are you going to take any legal action against the judge who sanctioned you for withholding evidence?" someone called.

  "No, of course not." Sharon Flaggerty feigned shock with practiced grace. "There's no reason to affidavit the judge for doing his job. It is now clear to Judge Benson that we would have compromised the D.A.'s investigation by complying with Mr. Getts' request for information. The judge has rightly granted a motion to formally stay the civil case pending the outcome of this criminal action."

  "Damn!"

  Jude's hand hit the arm of his chair but a glance told Josie he wasn't as much upset at the ruling as he was getting a kick out of the park's strategy.

  "Shh," Josie admonished as the next reporter asked the question of the day.

  "If you knew it was murder, why not hand over the evidence two years ago?"

  "It wasn't until Mr. Getts brought the civil action that we re-examined the information we had on Tim's accident," she said with sincere regret. "Seeing the evidence in hindsight made us reevaluate our initial conclusion that Tim's death was an accident. Even after that re-evaluation, we weren't sure there had been any wrongdoing. That's why we relied so heavily on Mr. Cooper, the District Attorney. He followed up and it was his decision to pursue this as a criminal matter."

  There was a hue and cry as everyone asked the same questions. What tipped the balance? What made the DA sure he could get a conviction? Could she be more specific regarding the evidence against the suspect? No, Ms. Flaggerty said, but John Cooper could. Graciously, she stood down and John Cooper stepped up to the microphone. His wonderful voice, his seamless delivery, his perfect choice of words made John Cooper seem more intelligent than he was. He talked so long without saying anything that some of the reporters began to drift away. Jude Getts had the DA's number, too. He turned down the sound before John Cooper finished his first compound sentence.

  "So," Josie turned toward Jude. "What's she talking about? What evidence?"

  "Haven't got a clue. Pacific Park fought us tooth and nail for months and now they're holding themselves out to be conscientious citizens, saints no less. Incredible." He swiveled toward her, simultaneously turning off the television. Jude paused, then tossed the remote on the desk. "No problem. I'll get my PR guy on it. Archer's had a long, solid career as a detective. Who can hate a guy who cared so diligently for a sick wife? Those things will go a long way in the public's perception of Archer. We'll taint the jury pool with good thoughts. By the time they're seated we'll have them eating out of our hand."

  "And I think we're not going to do anything even remotely like that," Josie informed him. She had expected more than smoke and mirrors. I don't exploit my clients or their victims. It's not the way I work."

  "Well it is now, Josie. It is now."

  Jude rested his head against the back of his chair. A small spotlight in the ceiling was positioned so it created a halo of light around him. The connection Josie made was laughable.

  St. Jude.

  Funny.

  The saint of lost causes.

  That was rich.

  Archer was no more a lost cause than this runway model with a law degree was a savior.

  "So you've still got a little fire in the belly, do you Josie? That's good." Those fingers waggled and Josie wanted to rip them off. Instead she listened, taking her medicine so she could get the candy he had promised. "But my research department is as good as my public relations guy. That kid you defended recently – what was her name?"

  "Hannah Sheraton?"

  "Yes, of course. Hannah Sheraton," Jude murmured and unclasped his hands. "Wasn't that just a little fiasco? You actually lost that case. It was the mother's stupidity that let you save face and kept an innocent from a life sentence. You're rusty, my girl, and I don't think you want to polish up your skills on this particular matter. There's just a little too much at stake."

  "First," Josie said coolly, "I'm not your girl. Second, I didn't lose that case; I quit when Hannah asked me to. When I knew the truth, I took matters into my own hand."

  "Yes, you did. But that doesn't alter the fact that you were working with limited resources that kept you from knowing the truth sooner. This time around you're going to need more than a wing and a prayer. You're going to need me."

  With one hand he pushed a manila folder her way.

  "The few documents we managed to get out of Pacific Park before they started playing games do not look good for your client. There was nothing mechanically wrong with the Shock & Drop ride so blaming a technical problem for Tim's death is going to be iffy unless they're trying to bury something."

  Jude let that little bombshell explode at Josie's feet. She stared at the folder, fearful that if she looked inside she would find herself out flanked before she even got to the battlefield.

  Jude gave the folder one last nudge. He never took his eyes off her as he opened it and slid documents her way in long, sensual movements. He teased her and that tease proved so seductive Josie couldn't resist the invitation. One by one Josie looked at the documents, getting a feel for the overview, ignoring the detail for now. Spread in front of her were engineering schematics, diagrams and reports. Jude provided the voice over.

  "The three of them were strapped into the proper position. Archer was on the right, Lexi on the left, Tim in the middle."

  Jude pushed another schematic her way.

  "The locking mechanism on the harness was in the middle of Tim's chest."

  He pushed another at her.

  "The ride went up slow. It was designed to have a hesitation of one and a half seconds before releasing and dropping the riders to the ground at twenty miles an hour. There's a slowing curve about four stories up. Tim Wren fell from his station to the ground before they hit the slowing curve. Whatever happened, it was perfectly timed. He was catapulted to the ground because of the speed. Had he fallen even two seconds later there might have been a chance for survival."

  Josie's eyes moved in clicks, resting on each piece of paper as Jude slipped one past her line of sight and replaced it with another. She didn't want to touch them. She was already second-guessing herself. Maybe Jude had been right. Hannah's acquittal had been a fluke, a mistake on the part of Hannah's mother instead of the brilliance of Josie's advocacy. Maybe Josie was rusty and Archer's defense would suffer because of it. Could she risk that? Could she live with herself if hubris kept her from following Jude Getts' advice?

  Not a chance. She was up to defending Archer and it was time Jude Getts knew it.

  "The ride could have hit something just before that curve," she said. "Something unexpected may have been on the rail: bird droppings, something airborne that nicked the steel, something that caused the mechanism to hesitate or skid."

  "
You're quick. That's nice," Jude said smoothly. "But the inspection reports are all in order. . ."

  Jude stopped talking long enough to eye a stunning woman who came into the office as if it were her own. Her hair was chin length and as dark as her eyes. Her suit fit like a glove. Josie nodded as she served coffee, took a report from under her arm and handed it to Jude. When she left, Josie's eyes followed and Jude read her mind.

  "She's an associate; top of her class at Yale. Someday she's going to be earning this firm a lot of money, and I want to say that I was the one who saw past her obvious attractions." Jude was smiling when he looked up from the papers at Josie. "And, just so you know, I'd bring her coffee if she needed it."

  "That's democratic," Josie mumbled. Chagrined to find her thoughts had been so transparent, she reached for her coffee cup and held it in both hands. "Those documents could have been doctored. I'll have them looked at by experts."

  "That's what Amelia was doing." He held up another sheaf of paper. "This is the last report and it has been authenticated. This inspection was completed right after the accident."

  He tucked that one away in the folder and gathered up the rest.

  "If you don't mind, I'll have them rechecked." Josie put her coffee back on his desk. "But I don't want to jump ahead of myself. Right now I'd like to take a look at the files from the first civil trial. Who handled Lexi's claim?"

  "Well, there you have hit on an amazing thing." Jude looked like a kid who had just stumbled across twenty bucks lying on a long, lonely road, no chance of getting it back to its rightful owner. "There was no settlement on Lexi for Tim's death. If she had collected, it would have been near impossible for me to settle on Colin's behalf. Not that I couldn't have pulled it off eventually, mind you. It's just that a wrongful death claim two years after one parent was compensated would have been an uphill battle."

  Expressionless, Josie looked at Jude without really seeing him. She didn't see the lush greenery in the atrium behind him or notice his smile or the gleam in his eye. Josie's visual field had shrunk to focus on a pinpoint of color on the collar of his shirt, a hatch print of delicate navy, beige and grey lines intersecting on a white background. Desperately she tried to make the bits and pieces of information fit into a pattern as neatly as the Tattersall boxes separating the white background of that shirt. No mechanical problem. No civil action after the accident. No reason for Archer to commit a crime. No evidence that a crime had been committed.

  "I don't get it," she mused. "Even if there wasn't a mechanical error, a case could have been made for operator error. If that didn't fly, Pacific Park would have paid out if Lexi made the right noises just to keep her from talking publicly about what happened. Sidestepping any appearance of wrong-doing would be worth a bundle."

  "Maybe you should ask your client why his wife didn't file," Getts suggested. "But for now it's all a great mystery. If we work together we'll solve it sooner than later. I think you know that, Josie."

  Josie cast him a harsh glance.

  "Do you think patronizing me is going to get your hands in Pacific Park's pockets any sooner?"

  "Do you think insulting me is going to make me change my mind?" Jude laughed back. "Look, let's get something straight. I'm not ashamed of what I do. Believe it or not, this isn't all about money. I help people who need my help and Colin Wren needs it."

  "You've got to be kidding? A man who ignored his son for ten of his thirteen years? He's the kind of client you want to help?" Josie demanded.

  "You only have Archer's word that Colin was a creep," Jude reminded her.

  "That's good enough," Josie assured him.

  "And I have Colin's word that he wasn't," Jude replied. "And to me that's good enough."

  "Keep talking. You'll convince someone that Colin Wren deserves to profit from Tim's death."

  Jude shook his head and ran his hand down the arms of his chair. Fun and games were over.

  "You're obviously a good lawyer, Josie, but buying into your client's point of view so wholeheartedly isn't all that smart. You don't know Colin Wren, you don't know me, and none of us knows what this case is really about. If you take everything your client says at face value then he has a fool for a lawyer. Argue his point of view but don't own it until you know it's the right one."

  "Thanks for the advice." Insulted by the lecture she pointed to the file. "Is that for me?"

  "Copies of everything we have. Xeroxed just for you." He handed it over with a smile.

  "Thanks." She took the folder and held it against her chest. "I'll take it from here and you can get back to whatever other business you have on your calendar."

  "I don't think so, Josie. You and I are going to be joined at the hip for a few months so you might as well relax." Jude's expression was mischievous and his cavalier attitude was not making her happy.

  "In your dreams, Jude. I don't like the way you work."

  "I think I've been fairly efficient so far." He feigned hurt before his expression melted into resolve and he crossed his arms over his chest. He was tired of sparring. "Without me, your boy would still be in jail. Without me, you wouldn't be one step ahead now. Without me, you'd be running just to catch up. And without Colin, Archer would be an ex-cop in jail. Not a pretty place for him to be."

  "Okay, I'm impressed with the theatrics and your secretarial staff and Colin Wren's deep pockets," Josie agreed. "But I'm having a real hard time with you. This isn't funny, and money is secondary to the fact that a boy is dead and a good man is accused of killing him. You seem to think this was all conjured up to amuse you."

  "Believe me, I know this is no joke," Jude insisted and Josie saw the steel of Jude Getts behind the polish. "But I won't apologize for thriving on the challenge. When I smile it means I'm revved. I smile because without some levity I would fall into a black hole of despair when I realize how many wrongs I can't right. But most of all, my attitude is just reflective of the fact that I love what I do." He leaned forward, picked up a pen and pulled it through his fingers. "And I'm anxious to do it with you."

  "Double entendre not intended," Josie shot back, unimpressed.

  Jude laughed outright and tossed the pen away.

  "You're not my type. Love the legs but I prefer a little more hair to run my fingers through. Blond, not brunette."

  "Fine. I'm not your type. You're not mine professionally or personally. So, let me get on with my work because I work better alone."

  "And I don't intend to work at cross purposes," Jude warned. "We want the same thing, just for different reasons. It doesn't make sense not to put our incredibly smart heads together on this."

  Josie opened her mouth to object just as her phone rang. A half turn afforded her some semblance of privacy while she took the call that would finish her conversation with Jude Getts.

  "That was Ruth Alcott's office. She's the deputy DA who caught this case and she's got time to see me now." Josie raised the file in her hand. "So thanks for the information. I'll handle it from here. I don't need any more of your help."

  While Josie filled him in, Jude rolled down his shirtsleeves, grabbed his coat and rounded his massive desk. With a friendly pat on her back as he passed, Jude said:

  "Don't be ridiculous. Of course you do."

  ***

  It wasn't just the way he looked that made people on the Strand give Archer a wide berth, it was the way he moved. He walked with his arms by his side and his chin thrust out. His powerful body was propelled forward like a missile seeking a target. Archer moved as if he would not, could not, stop for anything or anyone. He moved dangerously, and people watched him pass with more than a little curiosity and a great deal of relief that he had not stopped to notice them.

  His pace did not change when he turned into his building and took the stairs two at a time. Ignoring the pain that shot through his ribs and the incessant pounding in his head, Archer made it up three flights in sixty seconds flat.

  The key ca
ught, the lock gave. He slammed the door open and walked straight to the deck. He went back in. And back out again. Three times he did this. Once he hesitated near the tripod. For a millisecond he thought about screwing the camera on, refracting his rage through the lens, calming himself by framing the ocean, the sky, the birds, the beachgoers.

  Crap.

  The notion of being calm shredded in his mind like a past due bill he couldn't pay. What was the use of trying to feel better about any of this? Archer stormed inside and outside and in again. There would be nothing to see through that lens that he couldn't see without it. It was a grey day, a doomed day. There was nothing to recommend it, just as there was nothing to recommend him anymore. The district attorney and that woman from Pacific Park had seen to that.

  The newspaper accounts had been bad enough, but the voices speaking against him, using his name in the same sentence as murder, were unconscionable. He was defenseless against the impact of that news conference. Archer had seen his future in the faces of the two men having coffee at Burt's. They kept their eyes North West like the pointer on a faulty compass but couldn't help flicking his way, to check him out. There had been doubt in Burt's eyes, too. Burt who never gave anyone shit was suddenly cautious, wondering if it was good for business to have Archer sitting alone looking so damned scary in the back of the place. So Archer left. He paid his bill and he left and as he passed Billy Zuni, Archer wondered if he had been a coward not to stop and look the kid in the eye when he called. But Archer couldn't stop because a kid alive and well was the last thing he wanted to see.