Suspicion of Vengeance (38 page)

As Gail went back to her seat, Jackie stared at Judge Willis's face, which had turned red. His white hair seemed to glow.

"Ms. Connor," he said slowly, "if I did not believe that you are under an emotional strain, I would hold you in contempt. The court would like to hear your apology."

She stood up again. Her voice was raspy. "Would it affect the ruling?"

"No, it would not."

Jackie's heart rate increased. Anthony Quintana stood up, ready to intervene.

Gail said, "If knowing my client is innocent, and trying to prevent his execution, have caused me to give any offense to the court, I am sorry."

The judge stared back at her, then swung toward the state attorney. "Ms. Krause, you don't want another minute too, do you?"

"No, judge."

"All right, then. The state attorney is right, I can't substitute my judgment for that of a jury. On the other hand, I will admit to you that if this evidence were presented to me now, today, and the jury voted to acquit, I wouldn't say they were unreasonable in doing so. But the fact is, the law is the law, and I am obliged to follow it. I can't go willy-nilly second-guessing the elected legislature of the people of the state of Florida or disregarding the legal precedents of the appellate courts."

Sonia Krause stood up with a piece of paper and walked to the bench. "Judge, we have prepared an order, if that would help."

Anthony Quintana walked around the table. "This is improper. We object to this. It is the function of the court to render a decision, not to receive the state's argument in the form of an order, then sign it."

Ms. Krause said, "Defense counsel is free to submit their own proposed order."

"Both of you, sit down." The judge scowled at them. "In view of the fact that it's nearly seven o'clock and the defendant's brief has to be filed tomorrow by noon in Tallahassee, I'm going to go ahead and issue a ruling from the bench. A written version will be faxed to your offices, along with portions of the transcript relevant thereto. Make sure the clerk has your fax numbers."

He looked down at his desk. Jackie didn't know if he was reading from his notes or was unwilling to look Gail and Anthony in the eye.

"This court finds that the two defense witnesses from Fort Pierce could have been and should have been discovered before trial, and therefore their testimony must be disregarded. This court finds the testimony of Vernon Byrd lacking in credibility. That leaves the testimony of Tina Hopwood, which this court finds does qualify as newly discovered evidence. However, under
Jones
v.
State,
the standard is that the evidence must be of such a nature that it would probably result in an acquittal on retrial. The defense has failed to carry its burden of proof. Therefore, the motion for postconviction relief is denied."

The courtroom broke into applause. Lacey Mayfield leaped up, hands over her head. "Thank you, God!"

The bailiff shouted, "Order! Quiet!"

"Court is adjourned." Judge Willis brought his gavel down on its block and went out through the side door to his chambers.

In the corridor, TV cameras closed in, and lights came on. Anthony Quintana spoke in clipped, angry tones, answering a reporter's question. "Of course we're going to appeal. This is an innocent man. We have no doubt of it. If Kenny Clark is killed by the state based on the testimony of one mistaken woman, then God help us all."

Briefcase in one hand, he took Gail's elbow in the other, and they made their way to the stairs. Gail motioned for Jackie to come with them. Having lost sight of Gary Dodson, Jackie gave up trying to find him and followed her cousin.

She had learned last night how eight copies of an appellate brief could get to Tallahassee so quickly. Gail had e-mailed most of it already. She had a friend with a major law firm up there. He would print it out, sign it as a courtesy, and take it over to the clerk's office before the noon deadline.

Their footsteps echoed on concrete until Anthony pushed open the door on the ground floor. They walked out into the space between the courthouse and the adjacent county office building. Night was falling. The lights in the courtyard had come on, and people were still milling about. A group of them had gathered on the long, landscaped walkway that led to the parking lot. TV lights were on.

"The self-congratulatory press conference," Anthony noted.

"Let's go the other way," Gail said. "Really, I'd rather. I can't stand looking at those people. I need to call Kenny, then I want to go talk to Ruby."

"No, amorcito,
you have done enough for today." Anthony touched her forehead. "You don't have a fever, but I think you should go to bed."

"You were wonderful," Jackie said, giving her a hug. "You both were."

Anthony said, "In the courtroom, I thought I would have to bring her toothbrush to jail for her." With an arm around Gail, he said to Jackie, "We're going home in the morning. Hector will stay here, in case anything turns up on the investigation. You have his number. And ours."

They were both exhausted, Jackie thought. She said good-bye, then looked toward the crowd in the courtyard. "I'm going to see if Gary Dodson is still here."

He was. Lacey Mayfield had a grip on his arm, and though he leaned slightly away from her, his eyes on the ground, she wouldn't let go. The Mayfields were there, as well as another older couple beside Dodson, probably his parents. There were Ron Kemp, Tom Federsen, some other detectives, and a few uniforms. As she came closer, Jackie could see a Stetson hat. Her father usually stuck around for these things. Good PR, he'd told her. Palm trees on either side put the group in a frame.

The state attorney was speaking into the microphones held in her direction. Jackie didn't know what the question had been. Sonia Krause said, "The evidence just wasn't there. We're confident that the conviction will stand."

Someone asked what she thought of Gail Connor's last speech to the court. Ms. Krause smiled. "Well, Ms. Connor and I see things from a different perspective. I certainly don't like capital punishment, but it's necessary and appropriate in some cases. This is one of them. You will notice that the crime rate has dropped now that we're more serious about the death penalty in this country."

"Sheriff Bryce, do you see any chance Clark will get a new trial?"

He stepped forward and at the same time noticed Jackie standing among the crowd. "Chances of a new trial are pretty slim, and it would be a shame to put the victim's husband and all the relatives through that a second time, but we're ready."

"Did you ever have any doubt that Clark did it?"

His eyes rested on Jackie. "That isn't for us to decide. We turn the evidence over to the prosecutor, and they take it from there. But personally? I have no doubts. And I want to commend the state attorney's office for the fine job they did this afternoon."

There was some handshaking all around. Jackie stared off beyond the parking lot, past the City of Stuart water tower. She thought about what the prosecutor had said. Seeing things from a different perspective. They weren't out to get anybody. Just doing their job. Everybody sure of the truth.

When Jackie looked around again, she saw her father making his exit. More handshakes. A clap on the back for the detectives. He didn't glance her way as he left.

The lights were on Lacey Mayfield. She said this was the happiest day of her life. "No, I take that back. The happiest day will be when my sister's killer dies for what he did, and we can get on with our lives. Those fancy lawyers are clogging up the system with their little tricks and technicalities. A person should get one appeal, and that's it."

"Will you be a witness at the execution, Ms. Mayfield?"

"I'll be in the front row, holding up a picture of Amber. I want her face to be the last thing he sees on this earth, just like his face was the last thing she saw." Lacey Mayfield's parents, gray and old, stood behind her, leaning on each other.

As Lacey spoke, Gary Dodson, released from her grip, had sidled away through the crowd. Jackie spotted his dark gray suit and thinning hair. He embraced his mother, shook hands with his father, and then walked quickly in the gathering darkness toward the parking lot.

Jackie followed at a run, holding her shoulder bag against her side to keep it from swinging.

He was in his car with the engine running, reaching for the door, when she got there and held it open with a hand on the upper corner. He drove a dark green Oldsmobile sedan several years old. Jackie could feel the AC blasting out of the vents. The inside of the car smelled moldy.

Gary Dodson jumped a little in the seat. He squinted at her. "What do you want? I already said what I had to say."

"I'm not a reporter. My name's Jackie Bryce. I'm a City of Stuart police officer, in case you've seen me around, but I'm not on duty right now."

"Is your father the sheriff?" Dodson craned his neck to look at her. His scalp shone in the weak interior lights. "I heard the sheriff's daughter was a police officer."

"That's me. Listen, Mr. Dodson, could I ask you a question? It won't take too long." When he didn't immediately say no, Jackie went on, "My mother was Louise Bryce. She died in September of 1988 in a car wreck, so I can't ask her. There was a deed from Ignacio and Celestina Mendoza to the JWM Corporation. You lost your job because of the deed. My mother notarized it. Who asked her to do that? Was it you or Whit McGrath? I don't know who else to ask."

"Where did. you get this information?"

"Gail Connor. She talked to somebody at your old law firm. I'd appreciate it if you'd tell me."

Dodson took hold of the steering wheel, and Jackie saw his nails. She'd gotten a description already from Gail. His hollow eyes closed for a moment. "Mr. McGrath delivered the deed to me. I sent it to the recorder's office. That's all."

"The deed was a forgery, wasn't it?" Jackie spoke as if she was sorry to have found this out. Dodson didn't reply. She squatted on one heel beside the open door. "What I wanted to ask you is, Did my mother know? Please, Mr. Dodson, I don't want to think the worst of her, but I'd like to have the truth."

"I believe . . . my impression is that she notarized the deed as a favor for Mr. McGrath. It's done, you know, sometimes. Notarizing documents like that, on someone's word. It's improper, but..."

"I'm aware of their relationship at the time," Jackie said. "Did you know my mother? Did you ever meet her?"

"Once. A lovely woman. Your mother asked me about the deed. She came to my office. That's when we met."

"When was that? Before she notarized it?"

"Oh, no, after. Several months after. It had been on her mind for some time. She was concerned that she'd acted improperly. I told her she hadn't."

"That wasn't exactly true."

"Yes, but she seemed so distressed. I tried to put her mind at ease. I hope I succeeded. I heard about her accident just a few days after that. My sympathies, Miss Bryce."

"Thank you." Cold air drifted through the door. The condensation from the air conditioner was leaking from under the car, running toward Jackie's foot, but she didn't want to move. "How did you find out it was a forgery?"

Dodson's teeth were bad, and the smile creased one side of his face and not the other. Softly he said, "You're working for Gail Connor. She's trying to free the man who murdered my wife."

"Yes, sir, I am, but the fact is, Kenny Clark didn't do it. Everything you heard in that courtroom today is the truth. I'm helping Gail because she's my cousin. Our mothers were sisters. I know Gail, and she wouldn't lie about anything. If we don't find out who really killed your wife, Mr. Clark is going to die for a crime somebody else committed. We believe it was Rusty Beck. Do you know who I mean?"

"My God." Dodson's hands slipped off the steering wheel into his lap.

Jackie said, "He knew your wife was home sick that day. When you called the office, Vivian Baker answered. She was Amber's boss, if you remember. McGrath was right there, and so was Rusty Beck, and they overheard the call. I could list the evidence we have against Beck, but what I need to ask you is ... and this is
real
important: Did Amber know about the Mendoza deed?"

Dodson laughed, a quick burst of sound, and his mouth remained open. "Did she know about the
deed
?”

Jackie stared up at him. "Yes, sir. Did you tell her about the forgery?"

"No."

"You didn't?"

“
No
. Tell her
that?
I wasn't exactly proud of falling so low, Miss Bryce. I loved Amber more than the world, and she worshipped me."

"Then how did you explain getting fired?" "I... I..."

Jackie shifted a little, getting closer. "Let me explain. We're looking for proof that Beck killed her. Anything you tell us might help. We've got twelve days. Less than that, actually, before they put Kenny Clark to death."

Gary Dodson sobbed. "Yes, I told her. I said, Amber darling, it was only a favor for Whit McGrath. You see, he and I were going to be partners in a land deal. It was all set, but then he wouldn't do it, and it was too late. He ruined me. He's capable of anything, Miss Bryce."

Jackie played with the strap of her shoulder bag, which she had set on the ground. "Sir, you're aware that the Mendozas are dead, aren't you?"

He went completely still. And then the fabric of his dark gray suit, which had stretched over his shoulders, fell loosely as he sat up and looked at her. It was ages old, she thought, and several sizes too big.

"They're all dead," said Jackie. "Ignacio, Celestina, Ramon, Jose. The whole family. Rusty Beck killed them with a shotgun, and then he got rid of their bodies. That's why Whit McGrath had to forge the deed. Were you aware of this, Mr. Dodson? Did Amber know about it too?"

Dodson's eyes seemed to burn in his face, and his skin had turned gray. Even with the AC rushing out of the vents, he was sweating. "I have to go now."

Jackie said, "We need your help. If we can lean on Whit McGrath, he might give up Rusty Beck for your wife's death. Will you help? You want to bring her true killer to justice, don't you?"