"But it is your opinion that the amount of Phenobarbital you found in the boy's system would have slowed his reactions," Josie insisted, wanting the doctor to be very clear.
"Oh, most definitely. Very much so. I'll view the copy of the tape you have brought me but, given my findings, I have no doubt Timothy was in a stupor. I can state fairly clearly that Timothy made some attempt to stop that fall and that is incredible given the amount of drugs in his system."
"How would you know that?" Josie asked.
"There is DNA material under his nails, Ms. Bates," the doctor answered. "I scraped him and sent the material out for matching as soon as the body was delivered to me. The nail on the middle finger was broken, the DNA material was only found under three nails on the right and left hands, so he was not grappling with someone as you would if you had hold of them. Rather, he was flailing as if to stop something, grasping without an equal amount of force."
The doctor motioned with his hands like a dog digging in the dirt.
"Timothy was doing this in a forward movement and it was reactive. There were varying amounts of material under each nail as if he had been grappling. If he was clutching onto someone and struggling with them, there would have been foreign matter found under the nail bed of the thumb and the other nails, also."
"Could you tell if someone was trying to stop Tim from doing something to his own harness?" Josie asked, knowing she was reaching.
"You mean was someone intervening as he tried to unlatch his safety harness?"
"Exactly," Josie said.
"There's no way to be certain, but I would say that is a doubtful scenario. If Tim had his hand on the metal latch there would have been some sort of scraping on the palm of the hand, some indication of swelling or bruising if someone tried to pull his hand forcibly away from the metal. I doubt I would have found any foreign matter under his nails if that was the case." Doctor Chow was using his hands again, pantomiming as he talked. "If Tim had grabbed onto the webbing material of the harness in order to keep himself erect or to save himself from falling, I might have noted some kind of burn, the type of which you get when rope is drawn through the hand. No, if I were to testify, I would say that Timothy was scratching at a person defensively before he died ." Doctor Chow took off his glasses and cleaned the lens with his lab coat as he continued. "Seems to me there are only two choices on who that person might be."
***
"No, Jude, I won't do it so don't ask again," Josie said under her breath.
Doctor Chow was gone after requesting a sample of Lexi's DNA and Archer's in order to complete his report. Josie made noises about getting the samples to him but was singing a different tune now.
"Don't be absurd, Josie. Just do the test."
"No, I don't have to be sure. If it is Archer's DNA. . ."
"Which it probably is unless the Angel Gabriel suddenly appeared beside Tim on that ride," Jude said.
"If it is Archer's DNA then Ruth is going to argue that Tim was making a defensive move to ward him off and that's as good as giving her the last nail in his coffin," Josie argued as she made to leave. "I'm not going to do that."
"Don't be afraid to find out, for God's sake. The strong position is the one with the knowledge. None of this happens in a vacuum. Ruth is going to find out exactly what went down here, and she's going to have a field day with it."
"I'll work around it. Give me some time to think about it." Josie tried to pull away but Jude held her tighter.
"You better think fast, Josie, because if you use anything you found out today, if you even mention the drugs in Tim's system, then no judge in the world is going to stop Ruth from using whatever she can get her hands on. Ruth will argue that Tim scratched at Archer because Archer was trying to hurt him. Ruth will argue that Archer could have given that kid the drugs."
"Tell me something I don't know, Jude," Josie snapped. She was already half way to the door when Jude called to her.
"If we know for sure, Josie, then we can plan." She looked back as he walked toward her. "We can get ten more doctors to argue statistical error and dilute the DNA information. Juries still aren't sure what to think about DNA. If you do that, then you can play up the drugs in Tim's system, the effect it would have on his body weight and his state of mind. Josie, think."
"I don't know what all this we stuff is, Jude. You opted out, remember? The only reason that you're here is because you thought there was an outside chance you'd find something that would convince Colin to move forward on the wrongful death suit. But you forgot that Doctor Chow could not release that information without my express agreement. I paid for the damned autopsy. Archer is protected."
"Don't be a fool." Jude threw up his hands. "I don't care if there won't be a settlement on Colin. I am trying to help you by pointing out the obvious. In the first place, Ruth is a good lawyer and she'll find someway around that privilege. . ."
"And in the second place, I'll sign any thing the prosecution wants to make sure your client pays for what he did to Tim if that's his DNA under my son's fingernails."
Slowly Josie turned and looked into Colin Wren's red-rimmed eyes. She felt Jude move up behind her. It was as if they stood two against an avenging angel. They had been so involved in their discussion that neither was aware that Colin had come in and was listening to every word they said.
CHAPTER 32
"Don't give me that. You had your chance to be something to Tim. Hurting Archer isn't going to make you feel any better about losing that chance." Josie insisted.
"Don't push me, Ms. Bates," Colin warned. "All I want to know is who is responsible for killing my son. Now, you have a choice. You can provide a sample of that man's DNA, or I can ask the prosecutor to get it for me."
"So you can sink Archer because it's convenient?"
"So I can know," Colin answered. His voice was little more than a strangled scream. "And once I know, I will work to convict your client if that's the way it should be. I will then sue him for every last cent he's worth in civil court. I will try to make sure that he never sees the light of day, but, if he does, he will never have one penny to call his own for the rest of his life. I will make him wish he was as dead as Tim."
"That's not even a rock and a hard place, Mr. Wren. No matter which way it turns you've already got him convicted." Josie swung her head toward Jude. "So, tell me about your client now, Jude. Tell me how sensitive he is. Tell me how this is about grief and bonding and all that crap. I think you hate Archer because he had your woman, because he didn't want your son and neither did you. I think you'd do anything to ease all that misery inside of you, Mr. Wren."
Josie stepped away. One step, then two. Backwards toward the door.
"One way or another there's a payday coming for you, isn't there? But I'm not going to let it be on Archer's back because he didn't do anything. Understand me? He didn't do it."
Josie slammed through the door and didn't look back. The men watched until she roared off in the Wrangler. Jude took a deep breath. He was going to say something to Colin – he hadn't decided what – but found he could not. There were tears in Colin's eyes that kept the words from coming out.
Jude put his hand on his client's shoulder and walked him out the door. By the time he got to his own car Jude Getts felt strangely empty. Maybe the challenge wasn't as exciting as it used to be. Maybe it didn't matter that Colin wanted to drop the suit against Pacific Park and Jude was going to eat the bill. Maybe all this wasn't about winning but about knowing the truth and those thoughts made Jude Getts uncomfortable as hell.
***
Archer put his tray on the conveyor belt. Lunch sucked. He'd kill for one of Burt's burgers. He would give anything to be sitting with a beer on his deck. Instead, he was watching his back in the general population at the Men's Central Jail. No more special privileges. Archer was bound over for trial and the objective was to survive until his case worked its way through the system. To survive, he need
ed to make some decisions. Maybe he needed a new attorney. One who. . .
"Ar-ch-er."
The sound of his name rose like smoke and curled around his ear. No one had heard it except him and the man who tilted toward him as they shuffled toward the yard. Archer turned his head and got a general idea of who his playmate was.
Medium height, powerful build, head shaved bald, Hispanic. One hand was in sight. Archer shifted his head the other way. He couldn't see the man's other hand without turning around and that was not a good idea. He would be off balance. Steady on his feet meant he could dodge, weave, side step if that hidden hand held a weapon. So Archer toed the line, breathing in the smell of a hundred men, a thousand men, every man who had ever walked here since the place was built. He kept his senses tuned for a movement or a sound that would be the precursor to trouble.
"You Archer, right? Detective? West L.A., man. Right? Right? I think I know you, man." God it was an ugly sound, a whisper that wasn't a whisper at all.
"Who wants to know?" Archer kept his own voice steady. No fear, at least none the man behind him could hear.
"Nobody in particular. Just asking. Word has it you did a kid. Not a good thing, man. My boys don't like that kind of action. 'Specially from a cop. You suppose to protect and serve, man. Ain't that right, Ar-ch-er."
The man was so close his breath licked the back of Archer's neck. Archer steeled himself. His hands were loose by his side. He was ready for anything. He picked his feet up and put them down deliberately.
How had it come to this?
He flexed his fingers.
He had done everything right. Almost everything.
Up with the right foot and down.
Balance. Balance.
Archer thought the word until it became a part of his backbone. Moving his head ever so slightly, he checked out the line. Eleven. He counted eleven men in front of him, God knew how many behind and not a one who would help him if he needed it. But if he could make it to the door and the guard. If that could happen . . .
"So, Ar-ch-er."
The man behind him was closer still, his pelvis pushing into Archer's ass. Still no hands on him; still nothing tearing through his skin and ripping up his insides. Archer whipped his head to the side only to catch himself. No fast moves, nothing to draw attention until he was closer to the door, the guard and help.
"Oh, sorry, man. Sorry I got kind of personal there," his friend chuckled and then it came.
The jab. There was a sharp pressure near his kidney. It was a pressure that seemed unbearable. Archer stiffened and started to crumble and succumb to the fear that grabbed his gut before he realized it was a joke. His friend sniggered.
"Sorry, man. Gotta watch that. Gotta keep in my personal space."
Archer righted himself. Seven men ahead of him and he was there. He would be safe. He would ask to see Josie who would ask for protective custody. Josie would. . .
Again. The jab.
God he was scared.
Strong fingers, long nails.
Something in the hand? A shank?
Archer tried to move away but the man in front turned with a look of such utter, soulless antipathy that Archer backed off.
God help me.
"It's nothing, man." That breathy whisper again. "Nothing but a little love tap. Nothing but me telling you how it is, man. Nothing but. . ."
God save me.
"You."
A guard barked. Archer's head snapped toward the call along with every other man in the cafeteria. Archer was weak with relief. The guard was looking at him.
Thank you, God.
It was over for now. The Man picked him out of the line, ordered him toward another door, away from the yard, away from the guy who recognized him, toyed with him, waited for him. He was saved for another hour and maybe that was all he needed because the guard brought news.
"Your lawyer wants to see you."
Some things were still going his way.
***
Archer opened his mouth. A lady in a white coat swabbed his cheek. Josie looked on with eyes as dark blue as a rough sea and a face as hard as a sheared cliff. Archer kept his eyes averted from both of them. He was angry with Josie for insisting on this humiliation, insisting on proof of a guilt he swore he didn't own. So Archer closed his eyes and let the technician work. The woman did so with little interest, eventually packaged the swabs and was let out of the interview room. Josie waited until the door closed.
"I told Colin and Jude I wasn't going to have you tested."
"Then why are you?" Archer still would not look at her.
"Because I want to be sure that you were the one he was reaching for, Archer. I want to know that you were the last person Tim Wren touched." Josie's gaze was glued to Archer. She looked for any little tick of guilt, a tremor that followed a lie.
"I probably was."
"Were you scratched?"
"I don't remember. Even if it is my DNA, it won't prove that Tim was trying to stop me from unlatching his harness. It won't prove he scratched me on the ride. All you're going to do is give the prosecution the chance to make this seem like proof. Is that what you want?" Arched slid his eyes toward her.
"I'm paying for the test. These results can't be released without my permission. You would have to approve releasing anything with Lexi's DNA on it. None of this is going to get into court," Josie said and Archer found that as reassuring as Jude had.
"There's always a way around everything. There are ways to make the smallest, most insignificant thing seem big and important. Ruth Alcott is a master at that. I thought you were better than Ruth Alcott." Archer swung his head away only to look back at a silent Josie. There it was, the final brick in the wall between them. Josie had no assurance to offer. Archer stood up. "I guess we're done?"
"No, we're not," Josie said and motioned him down again. "I have a few more questions. Did you medicate Tim the day of the accident?"
"No." Archer answered simply.
"Did Lexi?"
"No, and I was with them every minute of that day." Archer straightened his shoulders. "That's the truth, Jo."
"Who took Tim to the bathroom, Archer?" Josie was unmoved by the protestation.
"I did. Twice."
"Tim had Phenobarbital in his blood," Josie told him. "Someone gave it to him."
Archer's dark brown eyes narrowed as he took a good look at Josie. She looked parched, as if all the moisture that made her skin glow and her hair shine had been sucked out of her. Those blue eyes of hers were shadowed and haunted, sinking into a face that was slashed into harsh planes of cheekbones, chin and brow. Her hands shook and she wasn't even aware of it. When Josie tired of waiting for him to speak, she did and she sounded exhausted.
"Someone gave it to him," Josie said again as she got up to leave.
At the door, Josie rapped twice. It opened. She looked a minute longer at Archer, waiting for the words that would make everything right.
"I already told you everything you need to know, Jo."
"What about the things I should know, Archer?" she asked with a trace of resignation in her voice.
"I've told you that, too. Believe whatever you want."
It was the last thing Archer said. He didn't even try to stop her from walking out the door.
***
"What do you think? Can you come down anymore?" Roger McEntyre knew he was asking the impossible.
"Sorry, Roger, that's as close as I can shave it. Twenty-grand is going to get the Rotater up and running like new. If I cut any corners on that thing, you're going to have problems. You don't want any more problems, do you?"
Roger looked out the window of the small office and almost laughed. Blackstone Engineering had been holding the attractions at Pacific Park together for more than ten years and they knew what another problem meant to the park. They also knew the shape the Rotater was in and they had just given Roger the bad news bill
to fix it. Of course, Roger wouldn't have to worry about any of this if Colin Wren made it official that he was withdrawing his suit against Pacific Park. Roger had expected notification by now, but nothing. Still, he wasn't surprised. Jude Getts wouldn't let a wrongful death plum like Colin slip away so easily. So, until they were officially off the hook for Timothy Wren, Roger had to watch the pennies even with Blackstone Engineering.
They had always talked straight about the tradeoff between cost and safety. Now that Pacific Park was under Greater United Park's microscope a huge repair fee for a major attraction would just be one more red flag. Isaac expected Rotater repairs to come in between eight and ten grand. Twenty was going to give the old guy apoplexy.
"Roger?" Mike Blackstone was waiting. "Roger? I've got to know if you want us to go ahead? We're starting to book out for the end of the year and I can't hold you a spot indefinitely."
Roger took a deep breath and put a hand to his eyes. He felt up against it as he never had before. It seemed there was a whole army in his way: Colin Wren, Josie Bates, Jude Getts, the fat guy with the engineering friend. Even the dead kid seemed real these days. But he'd been up against armies before and he would do what he had always done.
"No problem. Let's book this and get you guys started." Roger reached into the inside pocket of his coat, found his checkbook and a pen. "Just make it look good for GUP okay? They're coming back out end of the month."
"You got it, my friend." Mike watched Roger scribble out a check. He took it. His brow knit. "A personal check for ten grand?"
"I'm good for it."
"It's not that. It's just unusual. Is there something you want to tell me, Roger?" Mike asked.
"I want to tell you that this is between you and me. You give Isaac a bid for ten, cash my check for the other ten and we're good to go. Can you do that?"
"I can, if you say."
Mike put the check in his drawer. Together they decided on a date to start the refurbishment. When Roger left, he had one more stop to make – drinks with a VP at Greater United Parks who hit the bottle a little too hard. A few choice words and that VP would go back to the office swearing that Archer was already convicted of murdering Tim Wren, that Colin Wren knew it and was dropping his suit any day and that Pacific Park was the buy of the century.
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