Joel Goldman - Chasing The Dead

Rossi gave her his flat cop street stare. “Don’t.”

Kalena leaned her head back a fraction. “Okay,” she said, drawing it out. “What’s your first reaction, Detective, when someone forgets to mention an important part of a story?”

“That they didn’t forget.”

“Alex said she met Woodrell at the courthouse on Wednesday, but she didn’t say anything about meeting him in Judge West’s chambers. Why do you suppose she left that out?”

“Because she didn’t want us to know she was having an ex parte conversation with the judge? So what? I thought you lawyers did that all the time.”

“I don’t.”

“Then what’s your point?”

“Something strange happened in a case I’ve got with Alex. She showed up today at the initial appearance and she already had a copy of the investigative report and the complaint.”

Rossi shrugged. “Why’s that so strange? Isn’t she entitled to that?”

“Sure, but our office never provides it until the initial appearance, not before. It’s just weird. I asked her how she got the file and she said Meg Adler gave it to her.”

“Who’s Meg Adler?”

“She’s filling in for Robin Norris.”

“Huh. Then why wasn’t Meg Adler talking to Judge West about getting more time instead of Alex?”

“Fair question. According to Alex, Meg Adler found the file on Robin’s desk. There was a Post-it note with Alex’s name on it so she assumed Robin wanted to assign the case to Alex.”

“Let me guess,” Rossi said. “It was the Jared Bell file?”

Kalena stared at him, openmouthed. “How’d you know?”

“It’s my case.”

“I know that, but how did you know it was also Alex’s case?”

Rossi filled her in on Robin’s last-second call to Alex, Wheeler’s reconstruction of the accident, and his visit at the scene with Alex.

“If Robin was going to call anyone,” Rossi said, “she would have called 911, but she called Alex instead. My working theory is that Robin knew the identity of her killer and called to warn Alex that the killer would come after her.”

“Did you tell Alex that?”

“No. I walked her through the accident scene and let her put it together. She came to the same conclusion I did.”

“What was her reaction?”

Rossi stroked his chin. “Shock, disbelief-at first.”

“Then what?”

“I asked her what was going on between her and Robin that would make someone want to kill both of them. She says there was nothing going on, says their relationship was strictly professional and that Robin left her alone unless she fucked something up.”

“So either she’s lying about their relationship or it’s one of their cases. Which do you think it is?”

“Maybe both, but when I asked her what the last case was that Robin assigned to her, she almost messed herself.”

Kalena nodded. “Jared Bell.”

“Jared Bell. And now you tell me that someone sent the file to Robin ahead of schedule. Not a big thing by itself.”

“But a lot of cases are about a bunch of little things that spin out of control.”

“So how did Jared’s file end up on Robin Norris’s desk?”

“I don’t know. My boss hung everyone in our office by the fingernails to find the leak, but no one knows how it happened.”

Rossi thought for a moment. “Would Judge West have had access to the file?”

“Of course. But why would he send it to Robin Norris?”

“Who knows? But that could be another one of those little things, and since there are no rules against me having an ex parte conversation with the judge, I think I’ll ask him.”

Kalena grinned. “He’s starting a trial on Monday. He’ll love it when you show up in his chambers.”

“Why not? Who wouldn’t be glad to see me?”

Alex had no doubt that Kalena and Rossi would talk to Judge West about Mathew Woodrell and use that pretext to get the judge’s version of his conversation with her. She picked up her cell phone as soon as she rounded the corner heading away from the jail, intending to call him so they could get their stories straight, dropping her phone in her lap when she realized making that call would leave an electronic trail leading back to her.

Heading south on Main Street, she pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store and bought a prepaid cell phone, worrying that she was becoming like one of her drug-dealer clients, glad to have learned a few of their lessons. Keeping her face down to avoid security cameras, she handed money to the cashier, pocketing the change and the phone.

Back in her car, she drove further south. Months ago, Judge West had given her his unlisted phone number, telling her that it rang only in his home office and instructing her to use it only in emergencies. She clicked on the burner phone and tapped in the number. A woman answered on the fourth ring.

“Who is this?”

Caught off guard because no one other than the judge had ever answered her calls, Alex hit the brakes and was almost rear-ended by the driver behind her, who hit her instead with a blast of his horn and a raised middle finger. Waving her apologies, she drove on. The woman was agitated, her voice sharp and demanding. Though Alex had never spoken with the judge’s wife, she had no trouble imagining that this was how Millie West would sound.

“Mrs. West?”

“Yes. This is a private number. Now, who is this? If you’re selling something I’m hanging up.”

“It’s Alex Stone. I’m calling for Judge West.”

Millie didn’t respond, her silence making Alex wonder whether the call had been dropped.

“Mrs. West? Are you still there?”

“Yes, but my husband isn’t.”

“Can you give me his cell phone number?”

“If he wanted you to have it, you already would,” she said and hung up.

Alex smacked her palm against the steering wheel, her attempt at clandestine communication an utter failure. She’d squandered the anonymity of her burner phone. Its number was now included in the call records of the judge’s phone, and his wife could identify her as its owner. She was reminded again how easy it was to make the stupid mistakes that landed her clients in prison.

Bonnie was waiting for Alex when she got home, dressed, pressed, and ready to go in a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans, a coral open-front blazer over a white silk blouse buttoned at the neck, the tail hanging over her jeans, and three-inch heels showing off her legs, as if they needed any help. Hands on her hips, she took one look at Alex and shook her head.

“I’m not going anywhere with you looking like that. Where have you been? Never mind,” Bonnie said, raising a palm. “I don’t want to know. Take a shower and put on something clean. We’ll pay our respects to Robin’s family and then we’ll get something to eat. I’m famished, so get moving. Chop, chop,” she added, clapping her hands.

Alex grinned, enjoying Bonnie’s dismay at her appearance. It was one of their rituals, Bonnie pretending to be annoyed, Alex pretending to be sorry, both of them keeping their tongues firmly in their cheeks.

“On my way. I’ll be ready sooner if you lotion my back when I get out of the shower.”

“Oh, no. If I do, the only thing we’ll be having for dinner is each other. Now, get moving, sister.”

Standing in the shower, hot water pulsating on the back of her neck, she thought about the little game they’d played when she walked in the house. Their relationship was made of such moments. They were familiar and easy, like muscle memory, only for lovers. But this one was so out of sync with the day she’d had that she didn’t know what to make of it or Bonnie or them. She was absent the day they taught how to integrate murder and death threats into a quiet home life.