BREAKING STEELE (A Sarah Steele Thriller) (3 page)

I was halfway through my interrogation, and had already pulled out a few tears from her as she recounted the experience. But she wasn’t as confident as she’d been when she was alone with me. Kathleen’s eyes were shifty, and she answered with, “probably,” “maybe,” and “kind of,” more often than I’d like. It was more than just jitters, too. I could tell. This was something different. Something had spooked my witness and I didn’t know what. I plowed ahead, though, ready to hear her witness that he was there the night Tracy died. And then I would get her out of here.

Cross-examining witnesses was always an adrenaline rush. There was no other feeling like an open conflict between two people with a silent audience.

“Now let’s jump to the night of the murder,” I said. “Did you see anything out of the ordinary at the barn?” I asked. I sneaked a sideways glance at the jury. They were listening with rapt attention.

“Yes. I saw a silver car in the driveway. You know, one of those nice ones that you see on TV a lot? I’d seen it in the driveway off and on for about a month.”

I walked back and took a photo Joshua was holding out for me. He always knew what I needed before I even asked. ““May I approach the witness with State’s Exhibit No. 65, your Honor?”

The Judge nodded.

I slid the picture of the defendant’s car toward Kathleen and her eyes lit up. “Yes, that’s the one. I remember the sticker in the back window. It looks like a snake or something. I remember thinking it was a little creepy.”

“Tell the Court what you heard coming from the farmhouse, if you can.” I leaned in and handed her a tissue. She took it and dabbed her eyes.

“Around eleven o’clock I went out for a smoke. It was a calm night. No wind at all. I noticed that car there by the barn. And I heard something. Screams … they sounded muffled, and almost like an animal. I thought it might be a wounded dog or something.” She said it so low that everyone in the courtroom leaned in to hear.

I asked my next questions in a calm voice. “Why didn’t you call the police?Why didn’t you try to get some help?”

She looked up at me with red, puffy eyes, and then looked around the room apologetically. “I didn’t believe it was really what it sounded like. We have such a peaceful, little place and I never imagined it was more than a tomcat, or maybe a wild animal. I should have called, but I just didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think that someone could be this cruel and heartless to a helpless little girl, did you?”

“Objection!” Sawyer stood so fast his chair tipped over.

I turned and walked to my desk. “No further questions, your Honor.” I made my point and the courtroom felt it just as I did. After a few more expert witnesses, and slide after slide of Tracy Mulligan’s broken body, everything would wrap up like a Christmas present. I looked over at Williams. Through it all, he looked calm and collected.

What was he hiding?

Sawyer picked up his chair, red faced, and walked over to Kathleen. I tensed as if I were the one on the stand.

“Have you ever been convicted of any felonies, Mrs. Perry?” He spoke her name crisply.

Kathleen gasped.

“Objection, your Honor,” I said evenly. “Irrelevant.”

“Lends to character, Judge,” Sawyer said.

“Overruled,” the judge said. “Please continue, Mr. Sawyer.”

Kathleen looked down and wrung her hands. She wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes and barely whispered, “Yes.”

“What were you charged with?” Sawyer asked. I couldn’t see his face but I was sure it was smug.

Kathleen shifted in her chair. I willed her to look up, speak confidently, and not look so darn guilty. “I was heavy into drugs. Got caught with possession. Served my time.” She looked up and said loudly. “It ruined my life, and my son’s life. I ain’t never gonna get a hold of that stuff again. We moved here and alls I do is smoke, nothin’ more. Everyday I’m sorry I ever introduced drugs to my family.”

“So there are no drugs in your family anymore?” Sawyer asked.

Kathleen took a shaky breath. “N-n-no,” she stuttered. Her rehearsed, clearlypronounced words slipped into her normal slang. I forced myself not to look down in defeat.

I glanced at the jury. Their eyes were distrustful. I tried to meet Kathleen’s gaze, but she wouldn’t look at me. This was going downhill, fast.

“So if I was to get the police to raid your house, we’d find no drugs at all?” Sawyer said. Kathleen’s eyes widened.

“Objection,” I said. “Threatening the witness.”

So this was what it was all about. Kathleen wasn’t nervous for herself. I knew people on drugs and she didn’t have the look of it on her. But she was protecting her son. I held my breath. How much would she do to protect him?

“Sustained,” the judge said, and I let out my breath.

But Sawyer had already done what he needed to. Kathleen looked like a cornered rabbit.

“So on those nights when you saw the defendant’s car at the barn, and you heard those screams, you were in no way inebriated?”

She opened her mouth to say something, and stopped. Sawyer continued.

“You’re absolutely sure, without a shadow of a doubt, that you saw that car parked at the barn and heard those sounds at eleven o’clock on May 14th?”

Kathleen swallowed. I could see what she was thinking. She was wondering if she said yes, a raid would be ordered on her house. So wrapped up in the moment, I nodded for her, as if it would help.

“Would you swear—” Sawyer pointed at Williams,“—on his life that you are absolutely sure you saw what you described?”

If anyone looked unsure at the moment, it was Kathleen. I internally groaned. The jury looked gone already, as if they didn’t need to hear anymore.

Giving up, she shook her head. No. She wasn’t sure.

Sometimes I wished I were a defense attorney … all they had to do was just show reasonable doubt. So much for my eyewitness.

Chapter 6

I SIPPED ON A glass of ice water as the courtroom started to clear out for the day. I listened to the murmurs and whispers of the audience as they filed out to go print or publish the events of the day. They spoke of the defendant in strident terms. “Monster … heartless creep.” It was all good as far as I was concerned. But they also had their doubts. And more than a shadow of them. “With no DNA, and an unclear witness statement, it’ll come down to the fingerprints, the cops finding him at the scene of the crime, and defendant’s testimony.”

Dan stood and stuffed papers into his leather briefcase. His tall frame looked good in a suit, but he was currently wearing a large frown that ruined his features. “That was a debacle,” he said, glaring at me. “I thought you said we had a strong witness.”

Taking another sip of water, I hesitated. “You know as well as I that you never know how good a witness is until after they’ve testified.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but underneath I was a jumble of fear and anger over this case.

“We still have a strong case,” I said, hoping he’d keep it in my hands. “We have the police testimony of finding him on the scene with the murder weapon … it doesn’t get much more clear than that.”

Dan pursed his lips. “It was a lot clearer eight hours ago.”

Joshua, the intern, was caught in between the fireworks between Dan and me. He looked like he wanted to disappear, which would be impossible considering his 300 lb. Samoan build. He had a shaved head, trendy black-framed glasses, and was fresh out of law school. He was born and raised in Hawaii, and despite what people say about the laid-back nature of the Samoans, he was as driven as they come. He’d logged in just as much time on this case as I had, worked tirelessly, and he had a vision and understanding about things that I respected. He watched the people file out of the room, but he was listening intently as I argued for our case.

I looked down at my case notes. It represented months of research and testimonies and long hours at the office. I not only knew everything I could about the murder, I also learned everything I could about Hank Williams and Tracy Mulligan.

“No one can handle this better than me,” I said quietly, with conviction.

Dan took in my statement. I stared back at him. After a moment, I saw acceptance wash across his face.

“What are you going to do about this?” he asked.

That was the thing I liked about Dan—he was direct. And I knew exactly what I was going to do.

“I’m going to go to the scene of the crime to wrap my head around what happened that night.” I took a breath. “And then I’m going to get an appointment with Williams’ daughter, Hannah, and see if I can’t get her to testify. I’m sure she knows more than what she’s let on. Then I’m going to follow up on a twelve-yearold abuse claim one of his employees filed on him. I couldn’t find her, and I didn’t pursue it since we had enough on Williams.”

Dan frowned. “Things have changed.”

“I know,” I said. “We need more on him.”

He nodded. His forehead was wrinkled, he looked stressed. “All right, then. Get on it.” He picked up his briefcase and turned to leave. “Meet you back at the office.” Joshua followed him.

I stayed seated. It had been a long day. And it would turn out to be an even longer night. I needed a moment.

Dan turned. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. His dark eyes glanced me over. “I’ll order dinner for us to share. My treat. And then you can sleep over at my place.”

That’s what I disliked about Dan—he was
too
direct. His place was an apartment above our office building. He was married, but it was known that he slept around. He had me on his list of subjects to bed. I pretended not to have any idea what a creep he was, and blew him off.

“Can’t. Besides, your wife might like to have a nice family dinner with you every now and again.”

He winced and walked toward the door. I’d probably suffer one way or another for that slight on his ego. Either that, or he’d take it as a challenge. Either way, he wasn’t getting what he was after. I’d rather kiss a few more frogs than give in to him.

Looking over the empty courtroom, I noticed a marble statue of Lady Justice standing over the witness stand like an angel of hope. Her blindfold promised equality, but so many times it was nothing but a chance for those in front of her to try tricks and games.

Come on, Miss Sentimental, time to get to work.
As I hit the main lobby I was bombarded by the media with a thousand questions. I pushed through them and got into a black Ford. It was a company car, and most of the time we didn’t get them, but for this case I requested it because of the media pressure.

“Ninth and Idaho, please.”

The driver looked me over in the rearview mirror, and nodded. The unshaven, tan chauffeur took a bite from a large red apple, and then pulled into the road. He said nothing more as we drove through traffic. I did not remember seeing this driver, but they frequently changed.

I called Joshua and gave him a list of things to do: make an appointment with Hannah Williams, preferably by tomorrow morning; and find out any information he could on Heather Dade … the employee who had filed an abuse claim on Hank years ago.

I looked up and suddenly noticed The Pour House, a pub that was nowhere near the office. Where was the driver going? My heart sped. The driver wasn’t looking my way. I quietly grabbed my purse and retrieved my phone. With bated breath, I dialed 9-1-1, and looked up as I pressed the send button.

I stared down the barrel of a gun. “Give me your phone, Miss Steele.” My heart froze and the driver smiled.

I handed him the phone, and my heart sunk when he disconnected the call.

“Time to sleep, Miss Steele.”

He fired. A dart plunged into my chest. A cold rush flowed through my body. I screamed but only a whimper came out. The world started to spin. Reaching for the door handle, I yanked but there was no strength behind my grip. I was blacking out and I knew it. My head slumped forward and I felt the back of the front seat smash into my jaw.

Then nothing.

Chapter 7

I SAT UP WITH a start. My head pounded like a hammer. I tried to pull my hands free but they were bound with zip-tie behind my back, strapped to a chair. I blinked a few times and tested the gag jammed in my mouth. It tasted like mothballs and rum. Not a good combo.

Think, Sarah, find the markers. Windows, sounds, anything to track this place down later, but I couldn’t see because they had a hood over my head.
The sound of footsteps on the concrete floor made me turn my head.
Heels. Not a woman’s. Expensive dress shoes.

“Take the hood off.” The male voice was commanding, yet soft. Like the voice of someone who didn’t fear anything or anyone. The hood was pulled off and a burst of light hit my eyes. A lamp pointed straight at my face so all I could see was a few shadows standing around. They surrounded me like I was some kind of attraction at the zoo.

I tried to collect my bearings. My legs were untied. My hands were bound tight to the arms of a metal office chair. By the acoustics of the place, and the dampness in the air, I thought we had to be in a basement. There was a strong paint fume in the air.

The same man spoke again. “Hello, Miss Steele. I am … well, I am against you. We need the Williams case to go away.” It sounded as if I’d heard his voice before. As if it was a voice in a commercial or something. I couldn’t place it.

I didn’t pull or struggle on my restraints. I wasn’t even sweating. My vision had cleared and I studied the ground. There was yellowed carpet glue in thin lines on the concrete floor. I saw green carpet lint littering the floor.

I could feel the monster within me trying to get out. But I wouldn’t let it. Not yet, not again.

“What are you going to do?” I asked in a dark voice. “Bribe me? Rough me up and threaten my family? Or whatever you saw in the latest show of Law & Order.”

“No, miss,” the man said. I heard him take a step forward. “It’s not as if we could mess up your family any more than it already is. Your mother’s in jail for murdering your father.”

No matter how many times I’d heard it, the fact still sent a searing pain through my chest. It hadn’t dulled over the years. He was right, the situation couldn’t get any worse. And he didn’t even know the half of it.