Greg Iles - Turning Angel

Annie leaps to her feet. “What kind of dancing?”

“Cheer dancing!”

Annie claps and hugs Mia’s waist. She’s practically jumping out of her skin with excitement. This type of giddiness a father simply cannot generate-not in my experience, anyway.

“Run inside and put this on your boom box,” Mia says, cutting her eyes at me. “I’ll be right there.”

“Hurry!” Annie says, taking the disk and disappearing into the house.

“What is it?” I ask quickly. “What do you know?”

Mia’s smile vanishes. “Do you know about the grand jury?”

“Tell me.”

“This afternoon, four girls in my class got subpoenas to appear before the grand jury.”

My chest tightens. “Appear when?”

“This afternoon. It already happened.”

“Damn! Did they tell you what they were asked?”

“I haven’t talked to them myself, but I heard they got questioned by the district attorney, the black guy who ran for mayor last time.”

“Shad Johnson.”

“Right. All I know is that it was about Kate and Dr. Elliott.”

“This is unbelievable. Shad actually used Drew’s name?”

“I don’t know for sure. I can try to find out.”

“Please. No one’s supposed to talk about what happens in the grand jury room, but that’s probably all those girls are talking about.” Along with half the grand jury members, I add silently.

“Oh, definitely. They’re major mouths.”

“Do you think they knew anything intimate about Kate?”

“No. I don’t even know why those four got subpoenas.”

“Shad’s taking potshots. That’s all he knows to do. And he’s abusing the hell out of the grand jury system.”

“How?”

I click the button on my key ring, opening my car door. “A grand jury isn’t an investigative body. It’s constituted to decide whether people should be tried for a crime or not, based on evidence uncovered by law enforcement. Shad’s using the grand jury to bypass some important legal protections.”

“Like?”

“Like not questioning juveniles without their parents present. Police officers can’t do that. Shad could also call Drew in there and question him without an attorney present. But he has no grounds whatever to do that. Drew hasn’t even been charged with murder. If Shad brought his name up to the grand jury, the only justifiable reason would be in connection with the fight this afternoon. But Drew hasn’t even been arraigned on that charge.”

“Everybody’s talking about that fight,” Mia says. “I heard Dr. Elliott busted Steve up pretty bad. I saw the other two guys myself, Ray and Jimmy. They looked like they’d been hit by a truck.”

“The fight happened at lunchtime. Why weren’t those guys in school?”

“They ditched. Most of the seniors ditched today. A lot of them were scheduled to be questioned by the police or by sheriff’s deputies, and the rest just used that as an excuse.”

“What are people saying about Drew?”

“The word is mixed, believe it or not.”

“Really?” I want to ask more, but something tells me that Ellen Elliott can’t wait. “I’ve got to run, Mia. But I want to hear about this when I get back. And please find out all you can about what happened in the grand jury room.”

She holds up her cell phone. “No problem. See you when you get back.”

The front lawn of Drew’s house looks like a garage sale from hell. The grass is littered with tennis rackets, golf clubs, water skis, guns, cameras, and assorted furniture. Books and clothing lie strewn around the yard, most notably a tuxedo draped over a weight bench and a formal gown hanging from a low oak limb. I have to steer around a shattered flat-screen TV to negotiate the pebbled driveway.

As I get out of the car, the front door of the massive Victorian bangs open and Ellen staggers into the yard carrying a compound bow. I hold up both hands to show I’m not a threat. Ellen has killed more than a few deer with that bow, and she’s quite capable of taking me out with a razor-tipped broadhead.

“Ellen!” I call. “It’s Penn Cage.”

“You’re not welcome,” she says in a flat voice. “You’re the wrong kind of lawyer. Go home.”

She’s wearing some sort of floral housecoat that’s falling open from the waist up. Her usually well-coiffed hair hangs in limp strings around her face, and her eyes are puffy and red. Only her dark tan communicates any impression of health, but that’s an illusion purchased at the local spa.

“I’d really like to talk to you, Ellen.”

“So would half the town. My so-called friends, especially. They want to express their sympathy. Right. Those jealous bitches are so giddy with glee they could just shit. ”

Ellen is clearly drunk. Maybe not on alcohol, though. Maybe it’s hydrocodone, as Drew warned me last night. Or maybe both. She flings an arm toward the street.

“Look at them! Vultures, every one.”

Across the street, the porch lights of two houses are burning brightly. Looking closer, I see neighbors standing in little knots in the yards, staring unabashedly at Ellen and me. I can’t make out Walter Hunt, but he must be there.

Ellen tosses the bow into the yard, takes two steps toward me, and gives me a withering glare. “Well? Is it true? Are you representing Drew?”

“I’m just trying to be a friend, Ellen.”

“A friend,” she says skeptically. “Yeah, I’ll bet. I know how you guys stick together. You probably knew about it all along, didn’t you?”

“About what?”

“Little Katie-poo, of course. The backstabbing slut.”

“Absolutely not.”

She gives me a knowing gaze. “Be honest, Penn. You didn’t sit around over a couple of scotches while Drew told you how great it is to squeeze a pair of seventeen-year-old tits again?”

“I had no idea anything like that was going on, Ellen. That’s God’s truth.”

She waves her hand dismissively and turns away from me. “Whatever. You’re probably doing Mia over at your place every chance you get.”

“What?” My face heats with anger. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Come on,” she says, looking back over her shoulder. “As much as Caitlin is out of town? I know these girls, Penn. I hear them talk. They’re nothing like the girls I went to school with. No guilt, no repression. Those days are gone, honey. These girls are the lucky ones.”

“How so?”

She gives me an intoxicated smile. “You know what the difference is between then and now, babe?”

“What?”

“These days, good girls do. ”

I hold up my hands in a beseeching gesture. “Ellen, I’m just here to offer any kind of help I can.”

She swings her head around and belly-laughs as though I’ve just told a dirty joke. “Get real, Penn! You’re here for damage control. Admit it. You want to know what I’ve told the cops, or what I might tell them tomorrow.”

Is that really the reason I’ve come? I wonder. I’d like to think I’m the gentleman that Jenny Townsend believes I am, but maybe Ellen is right. “I won’t deny I’d like to know that. It could have great impact on Drew’s future.”

Ellen grins slyly. “You bet your ass it could. He’s sweating it over there in jail, isn’t he?”

“Have you seen him?”

Another preening smile. “Yes, I have. And it was pretty goddamn satisfying. It’s a new experience for him, I’ll tell you that. Jail is about the last place our golden boy ever thought he’d wind up. But that’s where he belongs, if you ask me. It’ll give him a little perspective. Remind him of what’s important in life.”

“Which is?”

“Family. Sacrifice. That’s what it comes down to in the end. You can do what you want to do, or you can do what’s right. And the two aren’t ever quite the same.”