Legal Thriller: Michael Gresham: Secrets Girls Keep: A Courtroom Drama (Michael Gresham Legal Thriller Series Book 2) (12 page)

A sudden chill races up my spine. I feel like I'm being watched from behind. I spin around.

He's holding out the credit card and giving me a dumbfounded look: Jana.

"What the hell, Michael?" he says. "I thought this was off-limits, dude."

"Where's the high E string from this package, Jana? It's missing."

"It's on the guitar. I broke my E and replaced it."

He's good. He didn't miss a beat. That, or he's telling the truth and it came easy. Facile or truthful, what's your pick? I don't know. Discovering him behind me and his easy explanation for the errant string have me on the ropes, so to speak.

"So what the fuck, Michael? You changed my lock, man?"

"What are you doing home so early?"

"No gym class today. They're resurfacing the floor for basketball season. No gym for a week."

"So they sent you home?"

"Yeah. It's only an hour early. No big deal, man. But let me ask again. What the fuck?"

"We'll talk, Jana. As soon as Danny gets home. For now, I'm going to ask you to wait in your room until she gets here and we can sort this out."

"Sort what out, man? Are you investigating me?"

I blanch. He's got me.

"Yes. I was looking for mice."

"What the hell for? I don't have any mice. Leonard went back to Uncle Tim's. He buys a mouse from Petco every three days. No other mice besides that."

"Why did Leonard go back to Uncle Tim's?"

"He's gonna be a mother. He is actually a she. I knew you wouldn't put up with a nest of baby snakes, so Uncle Tim came by and we moved Leonard back to Uncle Tim's. He actually likes snakes. He's going to sell the babies to Petco."

I inwardly groan. Perfectly good, plausible explanations. And again, he's either facile or truthful. How do you ever know? How do you know if someone is simply hip, slick, and cool, or whether they're actually telling the truth? Simple. I'm a trial lawyer of thirty years. I know when witnesses are lying to me. Usually. This time, while I'm uneasy with the flow of answers, they are also perfectly innocent responses in their substance. Face it, Michael, the kid is telling you the truth. And you just let yourself down a full floor of trust by breaking into his room. I'm kicking myself when I hear the locksmith's brakes squeak as he's pulling out of my driveway.

"Let's get coffee," I tell Jana. "I owe you an apology."

"Don't bust a nut over it, dude. You don't know me yet. You've gotta be sure of stuff."

D
anny pulls
in thirty minutes later. She comes inside with a worried look plastered on her face and rushes in to check on Dania. Jana and I are sitting at the kitchen table, working on our second cups of coffee, as Danny flashes past. She returns moments later, holding our daughter and patting her on the back.

"She was sitting up in her crib, singing. Didn't Priscilla check on her before she left for class?"

Priscilla headed out to a late afternoon class thirty minutes ago.

"She did. She said Dania was sleeping."

"I wish you'd pay closer attention, Michael. This is our baby we're talking about."

I'm chastised and rightly so. I just got lost in talking to Jana. He's a pretty remarkable young man, I'm learning, with high hopes for a career in video journalism after college. He's talking podcasts, which I know very little about, and online video reportage for one of the networks like CNN. The technology escapes me but his enthusiasm is infectious and I'm happily hearing him out.

"So what happened with the mouse and the dead girl?"

Danny never beats around the bush. Plus, she's much more confrontational than I am.

Jana looks at me.

"Jana, I talked to the medical examiner who autopsied Amy Tanenbaum. He told me about a really disconcerting discovery."

"Okay, I'm listening," says our guest.

"Amy's mouth was glued shut. And there was a dead mouse inside her oral cavity. The mouse had evidently been alive when Amy's killer put it inside her mouth. That's why I was looking for your snake."

"Like I said, Leonard's been over at my Uncle Tim's. He hasn't lived here in weeks."

"How many weeks?" Danny asks. She pulls out a chair and sits on the other side of Jana. Now he's got one of us on either side.

"I was here about a week. Then Leonard went back when I figured out she was pregnant."

"Out of curiosity," I say, "how did you know she was pregnant?"

"She stopped eating. Someone told me female snakes stop eating when they're pregnant."

"That doesn't sound right to me," Danny says sharply. "She would need nourishment to feed her babies, like any other pregnant animal."

Jana nods his head. "I thought it was weird when I heard it. It was some guy at school who told me that."

"All right. Amy was found murdered three weeks ago, give or take," Danny remarks. "So your timing is good."

"What's that mean?" asks Jana. "My timing is good?"

"We're ruling you out as someone who had a mouse that might have wound up in Amy's mouth. Unless you bought one at Petco, but I’m going to give you that point."

"Well, that's nice to know. I'm ruled out. Holy shit! You people are making me very uncomfortable here. I'm thinking it might be better if I move back to my uncle's."

"Not possible," I remind him. "The judge released you into our custody. You're stuck with us."

"And vice-versa," Danny says. Her eyes are sad and her voice barely audible as she says this. It's unclear whether she means for Jana to hear her negative comment or not, but he does.

"You really hate me, don't you?" Jana says to Danny.

"I don't know. Sometimes yes, most of the time no. I'm just trying to understand why you were arrested for killing Amy and why you're living with us. There are moments--lots of moments--when I feel like we've made a huge mistake bringing you into our home. There are lots of times when I think you're guilty--more times when I think you are than when I think you're innocent. Sorry, but that's just how I feel."

"Can you go back and ask the judge to let me stay with Uncle Tim?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Probably. But I don't know that he'd allow it."

"Why not?"

"Because you were living with Uncle Tim when you were arrested. Judges are usually careful about putting minors--or adults, even--back into questionable situations."

"So I'm stuck here with two people who think I'm probably a killer. That's a
good
way to live. Shit!"

"We're all stuck," Danny says. "It's not all about you, Jana. We're stuck, too."

The talk fades away. I get up and make another cup of coffee. Danny declines my offer to make her one. So does Jana.

"If it's okay, if we're finished, I'm going back to my room. Don't call me for supper. I'm not hungry."

"All right, if that's the way you feel," Danny says. "But if you change your mind, I'll make up a plate and leave it in the refrigerator for you."

"Don't bother."

Then he is gone and we are left staring at each other. She hands the baby to me.

"I'm having a cup," says Danny. "Then we need to have a real talk, so don't go away."

"I wasn't. I'm here to the finish."

"I want him out of our house. I don't trust him for a second."

I tell her about the missing guitar string. Her face colors up and her eyes blink rapidly.

"You must be kidding! She was strangled and her carotids cut and Tsung thinks it might have been something like a guitar string and our houseguest is missing a string out of his pack? Are you serious? I want him out, Michael! Now! Tonight!"

"We can't do that, Danny. There's a court order. There was no secondary placement made for this eventuality."

"Whose fault is that?"

I cringe. "Mine, I guess. Father Bjorn was with me and I knew he wouldn't be a good second choice. Truth is, I didn't have any other options that I could think of on the spur of the moment."

She hangs her head then reaches out and takes Dania back from me.

"Shit, Michael. Call the judge by phone tonight if you have to. I want this kid gone!"

"I can't. But I'll go see the judge and take the prosecutor with me. First thing in the morning."

"Then I won't sleep tonight. And Dania will be sleeping in our bed. I'm not closing my eyes while this monster inhabits our house."

"We don't know he's a monster. That's kind of harsh, isn't it?"

She gives me a mean, questioning look. "Really? How would you have said it?"

"I don't know."

"I rest my case, counselor. Now you’d better trot off to your computer and come up with a motion to revise conditions of release. Figure out where he can be put and ask the judge to put him there. I'm waiting and I want to see it."

"Will do."

"Good."

J
udge Winifred Lancer
-Burgess refused to change the conditions of Jana's release on bail. Her ruling was perfunctory, as was the in-chambers conference I requested with the judge and State's Attorney. Looking back, what I was able to reveal to the judge sounded rather superficial given that I, as the boy's lawyer, couldn't talk about mice and guitar strings. To do so would of course have given the SA fuel for the fire and they would have brought down a search warrant on my house and probably Uncle Tim's in order to look for mice and wires.

When we were finished, the State's Attorney pulled me aside in the hallway. He's a low-key man, modest in dress and speech, a lifer who has always played straight with me in prior cases and has never had an axe to grind. Anton Melendez is average height, black hair, dark skin, and wears two small diamond earrings in his left ear--which you would have thought would be anathema to the straight arrow image prosecutors always like to present, but Melendez somehow got away with it and, given his laid-back demeanor, it seemed to fit him naturally. He says, laconically, "Have you thought about a plea in this case?"

"Not really," I say. "We're still at the very edges of our investigation."

"I hear your investigator, Marcel, has been talking to anyone and everyone. Sounds like you're covering all the bases."

"Yes, we're putting some time in on the case. The defendant is my priest's son. That's a long story. So I feel a sort of inevitability about the dues I need to pay since the priest all but raised me when I was young."

"Got it. I had the same kind of influence in my life growing up in Mexico City. We were the lucky ones. So, why don't you wrap it up and then give me a call. Let's see if we can dispose of this one without trial."

I am taken aback. I am startled, in fact.

"This is the mayor's daughter. I would have thought there would no plea offer ever. What happened?"

"The mayor's legal staff has been privy to all our discovery. The facts aren't a hundred percent in the State's favor, Michael. But you already know that and I'm not telling you anything you don't know."

"My thinking, too. You can't actually place my guy with the dead girl."

"Well, there is the muffler. Turns out, your guy's DNA is all over it."

The DNA testing on the muffler is back. He's right about it containing Jana's DNA.

"True. For what it's worth."

"That's part of it. When you see our discovery, you'll learn more too."

"Well, let me finish up and I'll give you a holler."

"What's the nitty gritty on your request to change his living situation? Can you elucidate for me?"

I shake my head. "Not really. It's just uncomfortable for my wife, having him live with us. Not much else to say, in fact."

"Wives can be like that."

I can't mention the snake and the guitar strings, so I don't. Instead I come off sounding vague and ambiguous and that's fine. We both know there's more; he just doesn't know what else there is and it's my job now to keep him in the dark.

I head back to my office, three blocks on foot.

S
itting in my office
, at my desk, I finish studying Marcel's file memos and set them aside. Then I buzz him into my office.

"This kid," I begin.

He lifts a ham-sized hand.

"I know," he says. "Damned if he does, damned if he doesn't."

"Let's take them one at a time and see what we have," I say. "Catch that door."

Marcel goes over and shuts the door to my office while I buzz Mrs. Lingscheit and tell her no interruptions.

"Let me get Danny in here, too."

I buzz Danny and she comes in and takes a seat in a client chair moments later.

"How's Dania doing in her new digs?" I ask Danny. We've taken a spare office that connects to Danny’s office and outfitted it with baby gear. We did this on the spur of the moment because Danny refuses to leave the baby alone in the house when there's a chance Jana might be there with her. Priscilla now comes to our office and performs her nanny duties.

"Sleeping. It's quiet in there and Priscilla's done wonders. Dania has everything she could need or even want."

"Good, good."

"Yes. But we need to talk about long-term. He's got to go, Michael."

Marcel says, "Do you want me to go out while you discuss this?"

"No, stay put," I tell him. "You're in on our protection all the way. Speaking of which, do you have any ideas how we might dislodge Jana from our home without sending him back to jail?"

"Whoa, what am I missing here?" Marcel says. "Why the sudden antipathy toward the kid?"

We explain to Marcel what we've found out. I show him the M.E.'s report.

"I hope she was already dead when he placed the mouse."

"You're saying maybe she was alive when he put the mouse in her mouth?" I reply.

Marcel shrugs. "Do you have any proof she wasn't?"

Danny and I look at each other.

"I guess not. I guess the thought was so revolting that I just didn't go there," Danny says.

"Me too," I add.

"Well, there you are. Weird is weird. I prefer not to rule out any possibilities when I'm approaching an investigation. It only gets as weird as the human imagination can manufacture. You both know by now that that particular dynamic is without limit. Until a few minutes ago, I thought I'd seen it all. Now I know--again--that I haven't."

Marcel is thoughtful for several moments. He rubs his eyes. Then he gets down to the issue.

"Do you have a guest house?"

"No."

"What about getting him his own apartment?"

Danny and I look at each other.

"I like that," Danny immediately says. "That works for me."

"But the judge won't go for it, I don't think," I reply. "He's not in our custody if we do, and having him in our custody was the whole point."

"Let me think about it," Marcel says. "I'll bet my devious little brain can come up with something."

"Do that," Danny smiles at him. "But please hurry."

He reaches over and squeezes her arm and nods. "Sure, that."

I'm anxious to get into the case proper. I say, "All right. We've got Amy Tanenbaum, who has been murdered. We've got Jana at the football game that night, but his Uncle Tim says it ain't so. Whatever."

"What's Jana say?" asks Danny.

"He told me he was there," I reply. "He said he wasn't with Amy. He said he didn't kill her, either."

"Told me the same thing," says Marcel.

"That's nice," says Danny, "given that he's staying in our guest bedroom."

"Touché," I tell her. She's not going to leave it alone.

"So. Aren't you going to tell me how it went this morning? What exactly did Winny say when you asked her for different accommodations for our little houseguest?"

I sigh. "Winny wouldn't hear of him moving out. She said that she made her original placement with us based on many factors. And that she specifically ruled out Uncle Tim as a possible placement option."

"Did you ask about him moving in with this dad?"

"Moving into the priests' apartments? That wouldn't work."

"Why on earth not? I'm sure Father Bjorn has an extra room. If not, he damn sure has a couch where Jana could flop."

"Okay, I'll talk to him."

"And ask the judge again," Danny says. It isn't a request, it's a demand.

"Okay, moving right along. We've also received the DNA study. Jana's DNA is all over the red muffler they found near Amy's body."

"Which means one of two things," says Marcel. "Either it dropped down through the bleachers or Jana was under the bleachers at some point."

"Maybe he was under the bleachers before Amy was murdered," says Danny.

"Why would that be?" I ask.

"I don't know. Maybe someone else dropped something and he went under looking for it? I don't know. I'm just saying it's a possibility."

"It is a possibility," I agree, "but we don't want to go there, not ever. We can't have Jana under the bleachers."

"You didn't tell me about the DNA," Danny blurts out. "How long have you known?"

"A couple, three days, maybe."

"Were you keeping it from me?"

"I don't think he was doing that," Marcel begins.

"I'm talking to my husband!" Danny snaps. "Let him answer, please."

"No one was keeping anything from anyone else. It just hadn't come up yet."

"Don't you think I would have wanted to know? That's our
baby
we're talking about, two doors down from that guest bedroom! You know what? I'm going to take Dania and move into a hotel until this gets sorted out. I'm done with all this."

I look at her and her look back at me is a pure challenge. The glove has been thrown down. And, wouldn't you know it, I can't argue with her. In fact, in a way I'm relieved that my females will be away from Jana.

"I like that idea," I say slowly. "You might not think I do, but I do."

She sniffs and finger-combs her blond hair. "See? All I want to do is get the baby away from Jana. It will work better if I move her out."

Then I'm depressed at what that means. We'll be living separately and apart.

We'll be separated.

"Before you use a credit card," I say, "let me talk to Father Bjorn. Maybe he can step up."

"Fine, you do that. But until you have Jana dislodged, Dania and I aren't coming home. Pure and simple, so you do what you need to do, Michael."

A
n hour later
, I've spoken with Father Bjorn on the telephone. The church absolutely doesn't allow any priest to have a roommate or guest living with him in the priests' quarters. It just isn't done. So that's out.

"Is it that bad?" Father Bjorn asks me.

I tell him about the mouse and the missing guitar string.

"Michael, I would never have involved you in this if I'd known. Please, I apologize to you and Danny. And Dania. I'm truly sorry. Maybe the best thing is to let him go back to jail. I don't want to see you and Danny living apart because of my son. That just isn't right."

"I'm leaning more that way," I say and I am surprised to hear myself say that. It's the first time I've actually considered letting him return to jail. "I'm going to reach out to his mom first. I'm going to see if I can arrange something with her and then ask the judge if that works."

"Naomi will be very difficult to work with. I've spoken with her twice since the arrest. She simply cannot handle our son. He refuses to listen to her and tells her to go to hell."

"I wish I'd known that going in," I say. "That puts him in a whole different light."

"Yes, I think it's time for him to return to jail. Naomi isn't a solution."

"All right. I'll have a talk with him. Wish me luck."

"No, but I'll say a prayer for you. A good prayer."

"I need it. We all need it, Father."

"Yes, we do."