All Rise

by Rosemarie Aquilina

  A stack of Visa gift cards were next. I checked each balance. Together they totaled just under twenty-three thousand dollars. When I started to replace Renee’s things, I noticed a lumpy bottom compartment and realized I’d not unleashed it. I flipped the bag over, unzipped the final zipper and freed its contents. A black clip clunked through. Folded tissue with dark smears inside. Blood? I rotated the clip with my pen tip. There were bullets inside. Damnation!

  The front doorbell rang. I froze, feeling like I’d been caught snooping. I shuffled everything back inside the purse, slung it over my shoulder, and locked the secret closet. I slid down to the first floor, then found Hollywood et al at my door beckoning to enter. I seated them at my kitchen table and busied myself making coffee and small talk, texting Sebastian every few minutes begging him to hurry and return.

  Nearly an hour passed before Sebastian returned with Renee. My text included a request to Velcro himself to her because I knew it would not be pleasant once she realized who was seated in the kitchen awaiting her.

  Detectives had parked down the street to avoid detection. Just as I’d anticipated, when Renee saw her purse and phone, the clip, and tissue-covered bullets spread out on my kitchen table in front of the Detectives, she wilted like a wintering desert rose.

  Sebastian steadied her, and the Detectives stood.

  Fredericks handed Renee a search warrant and an arrest warrant and read her rights, and Grayson cuffed her. Seeing the handcuffs and hearing them click together caused sympathy-ache to spawn from my brain into my wrists.

  Renee opened her mouth, but Sebastian was shaking his head, and she snapped her lips tightly. I waived any conflict with Sebastian, at least for now, if any arose in representing us both. I was betting that having as much information as possible would help sort everything out, even if I wasn’t yet clear about Renee’s role in all this. Knowing Donnettelli was involved made her a victim of his lunacy, just like me. Tears glistened in her eyes. I wanted to make her feel better but sharing my boyfriend lawyer felt generous enough.

  After the Detectives took Renee from my house, the place was subdued. Sebastian and I sat on the tall counter stools with the Plasti-gals, and I hung my legs over his. He gently massaged my calves. I rested my head against the thick of his arm.

  When Jimmy Jack jumped up and nestled in my lap, I finally asked the never-ending question. “Is this over?” I stretched my tethered ankle, and his fingers circled the tender skin and nerves under it.

  Sebastian’s silence didn’t reassure me of anything; it reminded me we weren’t close enough to the answers we needed.

  “Okay then.” I swallowed hard. “Let’s continue until there’s a dismissal of all charges against me.” I’d lost faith in the system I’d once trusted. “We still need to know Jurisa’s and Renee’s roles and who put which bullet in Donnettelli.”

  “Given their close relationship, and the way she watched her docket, Jurisa had to know Donnettelli was moving cases,” Sebastian said. “As his Judicial Assistant, Renee likely knew, as well.”

  “Exactly. And Jurisa might have been jealous of Renee, if she knew what was going on between them.” I thought out loud. “Or, was Renee the jealous woman, the shooter, and part of the whole conspiracy? Who gained what from setting me up?”

  Sebastian rubbed his cheek against mine, and his beard infused me with comfort. I wished it could deliver the answers we needed. “Working for the County, Renee had access to all three courts, the salon, the café, and my house.”

  “Her access doesn’t explain the two men-in-black.” Sebastian liked to think linearly. “And she didn’t have access to the house when Shadow the Snake visited.”

  “She could have had help,” I said.

  “But I don’t think she’s the ringleader. Her place was demolished.”

  “Could have paid someone to ransack it. She could be on Team Killer,” I said. “There are any number of options—”

  Judd texted me. A problem with the spreadsheets. I accidentally smacked Sebastian—my outrage leaking out. The second time my arm flew, Sebastian caught me by the wrist. He took my phone and shot Judd a text: Take care of it.

  Then Sebastian tossed the phone, directed me upstairs, and took care of other things. He was a master at relaxation. When we finally resumed our conversation about Renee, I summed up questions that had been floating through my brain.

  Had Renee been in love with Donnettelli? Had she killed him when she realized she was trapped in a love-triangle? I began with the most revealing question. “Did Renee make a statement?”

  “Despite your waiver of conflict, I made sure she has a court-appointed lawyer. She’s pleading not guilty.”

  “She can have my spot in that club.”

  “In her interview with Detectives, Renee admitted that when she found Pete Dune, she saw the gun and accidently touched the clip. When she realized it contained her fingerprints—she decided to take it.”

  My mind was shifting pieces of the puzzle to determine if any of them fit better. “Is that really different than what we already knew?”

  “She said when she found him,” Sebastian said, “she got blood on her wrist and blouse and wiped it off on the tissue.”

  “That means when I questioned her, she intentionally omitted those details.” I huffed. “In fact, she tampered with evidence that could clear me.”

  “I’ll have a barney with her and her lawyer and press hard for the truth. A few nights in the clink will loosen her armor.”

  “Her failure to disclose information that might clear me, doesn’t ipso facto make her a cold-blooded killer.” Timid Renee pulling an angry trigger nagged at me like a crooked haircut.

  “A broken-hearted pull of the trigger would be a manslaughter charge.” Sebastian shrugged. “A charge that equally applies to Renee and Jurisa.”

  A cold chill tiptoed from my brain to my heart. I rolled up onto his chest and kissed him. “I’m betting Jurisa suspected Donnettelli and Renee’s sexual relationship. In a jealous fit, Jurisa fired that second bullet.”

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  The front doorbell chimed, and Sebastian returned with the Detectives in tow. Without invitation they sat at their usual kitchen-table seats. I hated that they had usual seats at my table. Sebastian and I sat on either side of them.

  Fredericks pulled out his damned notepad. “We do have a confession as to the second bullet. Not for public knowledge.” He clicked his pen.

  Damn him. “Judge Haddes?”

  Double nods. “Prosecutors and her defense counsel are meeting with her now,” Grayson said. “Those videos of her and Donnettelli. She doesn’t want her husband or the public to view them.”

  “Lovers’ spat, and she shot him?”

  Grayson interrupted. “Prosecutor isn’t charging her for shooting a corpse. Donnettelli was dead when she shot him.”

  “She says.” Were they being serious?

  “One more thing, before we get too far,” Grayson said. “We searched her residence and found a moveable floorboard.”

  “That revealed a nest she slept upside down in?” I couldn’t keep myself in check. I was confounded that she wasn’t going to be charged.

  “Better.” Grayson handed me a stack of photographs. “A bag she didn’t dispose of. It contained your Courthouse ID, wig, boots—the whole bank DVD outfit. A Nicoletta Kikkra look-alike Halloween costume.” He folded his arms and looked proud of himself, while I flipped though evidence that would help clear me. I was dumbfounded. Finally they’d done something right. I veered off that topic out of fear it wasn’t real and remained hopeful for her arrest. “How did you verify Jurisa fired the second shot?”

  Grayson looked exasperated, as if spelling it all out for the dimwitted woman took so much energy. “Unprompted, she admitted she shot him in the chest. Kill shot was in the left ear, through and through.”
>
  “Blimey, that tidbit wasn’t in the news.” Sebastian accepted the photos I passed to him.

  “The bullet and those photos are not for public dissemination.” Fredericks pointed at me with his pencil.

  “Claims she refused to get involved, and that’s why she landed beside your exploding dumpster,” Grayson said.

  “Refuted by the evidence she opened the 12 bank accounts,” I said.

  Grayson blew past me. “She blamed you. But we’re smarter than you think. We believe you were all in it together. She worked closely with Donnettelli.” His head jutted closer to me. “What did they do, try to cut you out?”

  I ignored him. “Jurisa played along, probably enjoyed setting me up. They played hardball with her because she delayed changing a newly filed case that would have resulted in a barrel of cash payoffs. I’m betting they wanted her in Donnettelli’s role. They needed a Judge in our Courthouse.”

  “You still need to tell us your role in Pete Dune’s death,” Grayson said.

  “Zilch. I had no part in Pete’s death.”

  Fredericks kept his head down, appeared to be writing, and mumbled, “There was the grand inquisition in the café.”

  Against my express instructions, my face heated up, close to the point of glowing red. What could I say? I had pushed Pete, and I’d been wrong. I had to keep moving forward. “What about the attacks on Laurel, and Noel, and Hunter’s truck?” It came out like a whisper. I guessed my voice was too ashamed to join in.

  “Scare tactics to keep you in line. You’ve pissed off a lot of people,” Grayson said. “Warnings not to tell us what you’ve done.”

  “Guess again.” Now I folded my arms.

  Fredericks pointed at me. “Haddes will testify that you and Donnettelli being at odds was a great cover for your financial scheme.”

  “She says the fake ID—and her posing as you at the bank—was your idea, and you and Donnettelli forced her to do it.” Grayson sounded bored.

  Damn. Her hair color had leached in and further demented her substandard personality.

  Fredericks flipped back to the beginning pages of his notepad. “You were the only Circuit Judge who financially benefited in cold, hard tax-free—twelve bank account—cash.”

  If he only knew how true that was. Picturing the cash pile in the hollow of my bed caused me a momentary hot flash.

  Grayson couldn’t seem to help himself. “Your co-conspirators gave you a cash muzzle.”

  “Jurisa—” My skin prickled.

  “Jilted girlfriend—not the same.” Fredericks grunted. “Forced to help you hide your payoff.”

  Grayson liked the double team. “Fess up to the accomplice charges? Easy enough to buy with your kind of dough.”

  Fredericks snapped his notebook shut.

  It felt like the whole world was against me.

  “Nice rack, Jack.” Squawk. “Ranger coming.”

  Shazam could keep his feathers a while longer. I stroked his feathery back.

  Chapter Eighty

  As the front door slammed behind the ousted Detectives, Dinkie-Do and Carlye plodded in.

  I pulled Dinkie-Do into the far end of the family room and heard Hunter quietly enter from the garage. I took a minute to admonish Dinkie-Do for getting his blue eyeshadow on my towels and advised him to bring salon towels to use next time. He protested and denied disturbing or decorating my towels. I shrugged it off; saving my towels wasn’t a high priority.

  Sebastian was already busy in the kitchen. The coffeemaker sounded, and the refrigerator opened and closed a few times. Finally, he presented me a tall cup of coffee with scoops of coffee ice cream, dollops of whipped cream a maraschino stemmed cherry, complete with cloth napkin, tall spoon and wide straw. I felt fifteen.

  “My Last Supper drink?” I sucked down the longest drink I could only stopping when I needed to breathe. Sebastian led me into the kitchen.

  At the far end of my table, Jose Alvarez sat handcuffed to Hunter.

  Hunter raised their linked arms. “My man found him in your office, and he wasn’t cleaning.”

  “Jose, my friend.”

  “Madam Judge. Many years you treated my wife and me very well. I pay you back, but I had to be secret.”

  “You left me the notes!” I pointed to the handcuffs, gave Hunter the stink-eye, and he removed them.

  Jose rubbed his wrists and handed me an envelope from inside his jacket.

  I slit it open. Fourteen one-hundred-dollar bills. “My recipe box?”

  “I hoped you be scared, think someone break in. Make you more careful. I’m sorry.”

  I’d given the money so little thought. I’ve been busy trying to exonerate myself. I finally saw some of the pieces clicking together. “You figured out what Donnettelli was up to.”

  “In time. Si.” Jose’s face was dark, eyes and brows low.

  “How?”

  He sat, one hand on the table, one in his lap, and said he would tell me everything as soon as he saw a lawyer.

  Jose said, “I need what you call immunity—”

  Sebastian raised a hand to interrupt him. “Why do you think you need immunity?”

  “I be clear.” Jose wiped his brow on his sleeve. “These past half-dozen years, I been listening to Judges. I—my family, we poor. My mother, so ill—”

  “Stop right there,” Sebastian said. To me, he added, “Jose and I are going down to my office. I’d like to record this. I’m not sure it’s in your best interest to hear any more.”

  I understood why he didn’t object to Hunter’s handcuffing. I needed to be able to provide clean testimony if—when—the time arrived. I held up a finger to Sebastian. “Jose, which of these Judges were at the meetings you listened to?” I read my list. Sebastian stared at me like Jimmy Jack ready to pounce if I moved too far.

  “All. But never all at same time.”

  “Did I miss anyone?”

  Jose shook his head. “They meet after hours. I see them when I clean the Chief Judge’s floors in courthouses.”

  “In Court of Appeals Chief Judge Maverick John Young’s Office? And in Chief Judge Donnettelli’s Office?”

  He nodded. “But I don’t hear who do what,” Jose said.

  “Did they ever mention my name?”

  “No.” Jose made a sour face. “If so, I don’t hear it.”

  “Did they ever see you?” I’d slid into Judge-questioning mode. Someone had to. Hit-slap to wide-eyed Hunter and Sebastian.

  “I work in shadows. Look at me, easy to hide. I learn as a small child.” He gave me a wide grin. “I talk to no one. After you charged, I focused to help you.” Jose sulked. “I don’t do so good. Others got hurt and died.” He signed the Cross.

  “Were any court staff inside any meeting with the Judges?” My staff were as loyal as hairspray.

  Jose shrugged. “Law clerks stay late sometimes. They carry files. Not inside with the Judges. They play cards or tap with their phones outside chambers when meetings went late.”

  “Did you overhear any reason why someone would want Donnettelli out of the way?” Sebastian pushed away his chair and walked around the kitchen and sat a glass of water in front of Jose.

  “I never hear bad words about Donnettelli.” Jose gulped half the water. “They talk about bringing different cases or moving cases, maybe that is the term. Donnettelli say no. Voices loud. Firm.

  “Judge Donnettelli voice stern. He say they get caught. Say they should start fresh in the new year. Then two weeks later he is dead.” Jose finished his water.

  “And the next day I opened my salon.” I thought back to what happened when and to all the headlines.

  “I think so,” Jose said. “Si—yes.”

  “How did that meeting where they argued end?” I felt lightheaded.

  “I see door crac
k open; they shake hands. Like ghost, I flee down hall.” Jose shrugged. “I think, all good.”

  I confirmed the obvious. “Until he’s murdered.”

  “Until you arrested,” Jose said.

  “You left her cryptic messages—why not just tell her?” Sebastian asked.

  “They killers. They’ll kill me, my family, if they know I tell,” Jose said. “Besides, Miss Judge has very good memory. I think soon she remember the birthday card I make her when she first elected.” He turned toward me. “You so smart. You would figure it—find a way to ask me and keep us safe.”

  Jose and Wanda had keys. I’d forgotten to count the cleaning crew’s key to the salon. Damn my math.

  Jose looked away. “If Judge go to prison, I promise, I would have tell everything.” He paused again. “I only want Miss Judge to be careful, to understand bad people want her to get blame.”

  “I understand.” Bullied people make different decisions than they might otherwise make. My gut knew things were not right in that Courthouse. “When, I mean how, did you get Judge Donnettelli’s gavel?”

  “I got the idea when I see Miss Renee packing his things. The night she finish, I open box and take it out. She not notice me watching which box she put it in.”

  “But having Donnettelli’s gavel helped place Nic, Judge Kikkra, there,” Hunter said.

  “I figured Judge recognize it. I did not think Judge get in more trouble.”

  I had to ask the question that loomed. “Did you see who shot Judge Donnettelli?”

  “Miss Judge,” Jose sighed and hung his head. “I don’t know who pulled the trigger. Am I under arrest for not telling what I know?”

  “No.” I tapped the handcuffs that lay in front of Hunter. “Whose bright idea were the cuffs?”

  In unison, Dinkie-Do and Carlye pointed toward Hunter.

  “I wanted to guarantee he showed up.” Hunter pulled out a roll of bills and pushed them at Jose, leaving the bundle directly in front of him.