Presumed Guilty (31 page)

Dallas looked the investigator in the eye, willing him to relent, to move his hand from the door of the car.
“I’m sorry, Dallas. I can’t let you go.”
“You going to kill me?”
Harry’s face twitched slightly, like he’d taken offense. “I don’t want to.”
“Kill for Jeff?” She put her hand on his arm. “I can’t believe you’d do that.”
Harry said nothing.
“Stop now. You can still do what’s right.”
“And what? Go to prison?”
“You only work for Jeff, you — ” She stopped. “Did you kill Melinda Perry? Was it you?”
Harry’s eyes showed strain and just plain exhaustion. “Just come with me,” he said.
“I’m not going to,” she said. “And you won’t kill me.” Why she said it just that way, she wasn’t sure. But she was not scared.
“Dallas, please.”
“Your life is at stake.”
He shook his head.
“Do the right thing,” she said. “For your daughter. For yourself. Don’t — ”
“Is there a problem?” Jeff Waite had come up behind Harry.
Harry looked at Dallas.
“Get her out of here, Harry.”
Harry didn’t move.
“Harry!”
The investigator whirled around. “Do it yourself,” he said.
Jeff’s face went cold. Seeing his expression, Dallas thought she saw the real Jeff Waite for the first time in her life.
“Harry, you’re starting to make me nervous.”
Harry Stegman didn’t move. He was a human shield between Dallas and Jeff Waite.
Then a sound in the distance. Sirens.
Jeff’s head cocked a little, and his eyes burned into Harry. “Get out of the way!”
Harry said, “Don’t do it, Jeff.”
“Move!”
Dallas couldn’t see the lower half of Jeff’s body but got the distinct impression he was holding something.
Harry’s arm moved, as if he was reaching under his coat. It moved out again.
She heard three cracks, one after another. Harry’s body fell back against her, pinning her to the car. And then he went down.
Jeff Waite looked at her, shock all over his face. Red wetness spreading on his white shirt, just below the left shoulder.
He opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to curse her, but no sound came out.
And then he dropped straight down, thudding on the concrete. The sirens grew louder.
Harry’s body was on her feet. But he was moving. He rolled left, onto his side.
“Dallas . . . ,” he said.
“Hold on, Harry. Hold on.”

Detective Lacy called Dallas the next day. “Stegman’s going to be okay,” he said. “Waite died early this morning. I’m at the hospital now to get a statement from Stegman, but he says he wants you here.”

“Waived the right. But he won’t talk without you. Are you up for it?”
“I’ll be right there,” she said.
They had Harry Stegman in post-op at the Reseda Medical Center. A uniformed officer stood outside his room on the third floor.
The detective motioned Dallas to come in.
Harry Stegman lay in a bed by the window, the only patient in the room. A tube dripped fluid into one of his arms. His other arm was shackled to the bed by handcuffs. He looked pitiful, and even though he’d been two-faced to her, Dallas couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. That he should have come to this.
“Hello, Dallas,” he said, weak but determined. “Thank you for coming.”
She nodded.
“I’m ready,” Harry told Lacy.
Lacy took out a notebook and pen.
“It started out innocently enough,” Harry said. “Vic Lu came to Jeff and told him about this idea he had for boosting campaign contributions. He wanted to know if it was legal. What he was really doing was setting himself up to grease the palm of whoever the city councilman happened to be. He wanted his life in the porn business to be as hassle free as possible, and buying politicians has been the best guarantee.
“He also promised Jeff considerable legal fees for his trouble in heading up the DatJam/Gentri Land scheme. So he was buying Jeff too. Once he got Jeff to be the front man, Lu had him hooked. Not that Jeff resisted him. It was Lu who suggested Jeff get involved in your church. A perfect cover for someone involved in, shall we say, less than upright dealings.”
Dallas shook her head. “It’s hard to believe.”
“People do strange things when they get paid for it. Lu gave Jeff more than money. He also gave him Melinda Perry.”
“Jeff was having an affair with her?”
“That’s a nice way of putting it. Jeff was using her. Well, there came a time when she decided she wasn’t willing to be used anymore. She wanted Jeff to get her out of the business and make her Mrs. Waite. When he said no, she threatened to go to the police and spill her guts about Gentri Land.”
“She knew about it?”
“She was a very clever little girl. She knew how to get information from people in return for her favors. That’s why she was perfect for the little plan to stop your husband. When Jeff told Vic Lu about Melinda’s threats, Lu saw a great opportunity to use her seductive power. One thing about Lu, he casts himself as a visionary. Well, he is. And he can see some pretty grand things for himself.”
Detective Lacy grunted and continued to take notes.
“What he wanted to do was kill two birds, so to speak. You and your husband were making trouble with Halstrom. Your husband was becoming too popular a voice for cleaning up the community, shutting down people like Vic Lu. So Lu came up with an idea to trap your husband in a sleazy murder situation.”
“Why didn’t he just kill Ron and be done with it?”
“Number one, that would have been too obvious. He didn’t want people asking questions about who Ron’s enemies might be. But the more important reason was Lu’s ego. He saw this as an elaborate screenplay, a testimony to his genius. The guy is nuts.”
“Did Jeff kill Melinda?” Dallas asked.
Harry nodded. “That was all part of it. Vic Lu wasn’t about to get his own hands dirty. He had Jeff and Halstrom both across a barrel. He played his hand perfectly. That’s how he got McKenzie involved. McKenzie shows up at Jeff’s office, says he has some information he ought to know about. About you, Dallas. He wanted money to keep it quiet. The sap didn’t know Jeff couldn’t have cared less. So instead of kicking him out, Jeff recruited him. One thing Jeff could do was size people up. That’s why he was so good in court.”
“Unbelievable,” Dallas muttered.
“Jeff was into control, so how convenient was it for him to be handling Ron’s defense? He wasn’t interested in getting Ron off. He wanted the whole thing disposed of as quickly as possible, and so he leaked the evidence about the porn on Ron’s computer to the press to help things along.”
Now Dallas couldn’t even mutter. The depth of betrayal was fathomless. But wasn’t that the way of the ancient enemy of God? Go after the families. Well, this time the plan hadn’t succeeded. Her family was not what it once was, but God would knit it together again. She had to hang onto that.
“McKenzie killed a guy named Rafe Bryan,” Lacy said to Harry. “Now that they’re both dead, it’s a little hard to figure. You know anything?”
“Not much, except that this guy Bryan may have been looking for your son, Dallas.”
“I think he was,” Dallas said. “My son and Bryan’s girlfriend started seeing each other.”
“When two sweeties like McKenzie and Bryan get together, something’s going to pop. Bryan probably wanted in on McKenzie’s cut.”
“There’s someone who can confirm,” Dallas said.
Harry waited.
“Gilda.”
“You know where she is?” Detective Lacy said, his eyes virtually lighting up.
“I know. And she can give you a bunch on Vic Lu.”
“When we catch up with him,” he said. “He has taken what they used to call a powder.”
“Maybe Bernie Halstrom knows where he is.”
The detective nodded, looked at his watch. “And right about now Deputy DA Freton is paying Halstrom a little call.”
Harry seemed to relax a little, like he was finally glad to get all this off his chest. Then he said, “I’m sorry, Dallas. I really am.”
“I know, Harry.”
“I’m not a bad man. I just . . . forgot.”
“Has anyone called your daughter?”
“No.”
“You want me to?”
“I don’t know.” He looked nervous.
Dallas put her hand on his arm. “Now’s the time for family, Harry. Let me make the call.”
After a pause, Harry nodded.
“I guess that’s it for now,” Lacy said. “Your cooperation will be duly noted, Mr. Stegman.”

Jamaal looked up at him, the roller in his hand almost as big as he was. White spots dotted his face, and his T-shirt and overalls were spattered as well. The roller was dripping with paint.

“Hold it over the pan.” Jared pointed.
Jamaal complied. The wet roller almost pulled him over. “Let me show you how to smooth it out,” Jared said. “If you’re

gonna work for me you got to do it right.”
“Okay.” Jamaal was nothing if not excited about his new posi
tion in Jared’s business.
They were in a house, a fixer on Plummer that was the first contract job for Jared and the fledgling house-painting business he’d
started four months ago, a business consisting of himself and two
employees — Jamaal, who was quite affordable, and Tiana, who was
the head of the design team. She would make everything pretty.
She’d started attending night classes in design at Valley Community College.
Jared got Jamaal squared away on the paint, then showed him
how to make an
X
on the wall and roll the rest of the paint across
the surface with easy strokes. Jared put on the finishing touches so
Jamaal could watch. This process would take a little more time, but
time was something Jared had a whole lot of.
Time with people he loved.
Jared handed the roller back to Jamaal. “Okay, now do it
again.”
Jamaal didn’t move.
“What’s wrong?”
“You gonna be my dad?”
“You want me to?”
Jamaal nodded.

“I have to talk to your mom about it.”
“She wants you to be.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Then we could even live in the same house!”
“That sounds good to me.”
Jamaal smiled like the morning sun. Jared knelt and put his

hands on the boy’s shoulders. He still couldn’t believe how such a great kid could have had such a lowlife father, nor how Jamaal could have come out so fresh despite what he’d been through.

What a world it was. What a place Jamaal was being handed. That’s why Jared wanted to be part of it with Jamaal. Help him make it through.

He looked the boy in the eye and said, “You can always trust your mom and me, okay?”
Jamaal looked totally serious as he nodded.
“Trust me about what?” Tiana had come in through the front door. She held a plastic bag from Subway in her hand.
Jamaal ran to her. “He said yes!”
The confusion on Tiana’s face gave way to realization. She looked at Jared and smiled.
She was beautiful.

The Wednesday night chapel service at the minimum-security men’s colony just north of Lancaster always starts at seven o’clock sharp. That’s one thing I make sure of. I know from my stint on the inside that these guys calibrate their lives by the minute. They look forward to any break from routine. I’m going to give them that break, and do it on time.

About twenty came tonight, almost double the number from last week. I’ve been coming each Wednesday for two months now. It’s volunteer work, but it’s the work God has called me to. Talking to the guys in the prisons.

And if I could interest Ernesto, I figured God had arranged it so I could interest others.
That’s the way it’s going to be.
The big news this past month is that Vic Lu has been arrested for conspiracy to commit murder, and Bernie Halstrom has been indicted on that and several other counts. The two of them are now blaming each other through their lawyers.
But it is a stake through the heart of porn and corruption in Los Angeles, and it’s nationwide news. That’s why I got a call from my former agent, saying I was “hot” again, and how about a new book?
I politely said no.
I will not go back to celebrity, or the paid ministry, unless God picks me up and literally throws me there.
Until that time, I will go into the prisons.

After church, Ron and Dallas drove down to the pier at Santa Monica, just to be together and look at the ocean. They spoke very little on the way. For some reason, a reason Dallas couldn’t quite fathom, words would have diluted the moment. It had something to do with the church service that morning. They’d sung one of Dallas’s favorite old hymns,
Blessed Assurance
. When they got to
glory divine
Dallas thought that described perfectly the congregation, this body of Christ she and Ron called home.

After all the scandal, after Ron’s fall and the resignation of Bob Benson over Lisa’s duplicity — even after all that, Hillside had hung together. Sure, there was fallout. Several people left in disillusionment. But in the last few weeks others had come, filling the seats to hear the “new” preacher, the one unanimously called until a permanent pastor could be found.

Roger Vernon looked great up there, eighty years young and full of life, the kind that could only come from believing in the Word of God with every fiber of his being, and preaching it with utter conviction.

There was not one trace of discomfort for Ron in Roger’s presence. Shortly after his release from prison, Ron had come forward to ask the congregation for forgiveness. It was given in an overwhelming wave of grace.

Now he was content to sit under Roger’s teaching and let God deal with him as he would.
This morning, Roger asked the people to turn in their Bibles to the first chapter of 2 Corinthians. He read aloud, “‘Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.’”
Ron had reached over then and taken her hand. She heard him whisper, “Amen.”
Now, strolling along the pier, amidst the hustle of tourists and bustle of commerce, Ron took her hand again. They walked until they reached a place where they could gaze down at the blue-green water. It swirled and broke around the pilings. White foam churned then dissipated as it melted back into the sea.
Dallas realized then that in the very place where her spirit had been torn by Ron’s betrayal, a healing had already occurred. This broken place had carried a scar, but it was stronger now and more resilient. That was God’s way, she supposed. He didn’t spare the scars, he transformed them. They melted into him, and that’s how he made all things new.
“Let’s go down there,” Dallas said.
“Where?”
“The water. Let’s take our shoes off and get wet.”
Ron smiled at her. His eyes danced in the sunlight that flickered off the ocean. Then he put his arm around her shoulder and, in silent communion, they walked back along the pier to the stairs that led down to the beach.