No One Left to Tell (8 page)

‘On the charge of murder in the first degree, we the jury find the defendant guilty.’

‘
Yes
,’ Grayson breathed, indulging in a single hammer of his fist against the table.

Chatter broke out through the courtroom, celebration from the victim’s family and devastation from the defendant’s. An anguished scream had Grayson twisting left to where Donald Samson’s mother had thrown her arms around her son.

Ramon Muñoz’s mother had done the same. As had his wife.

But of course, every con in the joint had a mother or wife who swore six ways to Tuesday that they were innocent. Muñoz had been as guilty. There was DNA on the weapon found in his closet. And there was no alibi.
So put it out of your head
.

Grayson gave a nod to Daphne. She’d worked hard on this case. They both had. He turned to shake the hands of the victim’s family seated behind him.

Then froze. It was her.
Her
. The woman from the video. She stood on the back row, watching.
Me. She’s watching me. Why? What’s she doing here?

His heart began to race as he stared back. She was even more stunning in person than she’d been on the television screen, taller than he’d expected, her black hair longer. Her face was no longer stark white with shock, but a beautiful bronze, whether left over from a summer tan or a result of her parents’ genetics he couldn’t tell.

She was dressed in a way that was both professional and sensual all at once. The tailored black trousers couldn’t hide the fact that her legs were long, her hips curvy. The black sweater was one of those that draped at the neck, clinging to well-endowed breasts without actually showing a damn thing.

Her eyes were just as black as he’d remembered. And piercing in their careful scrutiny. She was watching him, all right. Why, he had no clue.

‘Thank you, Mr Smith.’ The quavering voice jerked Grayson’s focus away from the woman and into the face of the elderly woman who’d taken his hand. She was the grandmother of the newly convicted murderer’s victim. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she shook his hand. ‘Thank you,’ she said again.

‘You’re welcome,’ he said quietly. He covered her hand with his. ‘Are you all right?’

Her chin lifted. ‘Yes. My granddaughter can rest now. So can I.’

The other family members gathered. This was closure. While he could never bring their lost one back, he could give them this. When the last hand was shaken, he looked up. The woman was still there, still watching him, a red coat neatly draped over her arm.

He didn’t need a law degree to know this was all about Elena Muñoz. When he started toward her, she slipped out the doors at the back of the courtroom. By the time he made it into the hall, she was nowhere to be seen.

‘That woman from the video,’ Daphne said. ‘Do you know her?’

‘No,’ Grayson answered, troubled. ‘Do you?’

‘Nope. But I’d lay you dollars to donuts that you will. Are you gonna tell Bashears and Morton that she was here?’

‘No,’ he murmured and was happy she didn’t ask why not, because he didn’t know himself. ‘It’s showtime.’ Together they headed out to the sea of reporters.

‘Mr Smith! Mr Smith!’

Pushing the woman to the edge of his mind, Grayson gave his attention to the reporters. ‘This was a victory for the victims,’ he said. ‘And closure for their families. We’re satisfied with the jury’s decision. Justice was done here today.’

A flash of red caught his eye and he glanced left. She was standing alone, despite the people milling around her. She gave him the briefest of nods before she lifted the blood-red hood of her coat, hiding her face as she walked away.

He stepped around the cameras. ‘Any more has to come from the Public Affairs Office.’ He took the courthouse stairs two at time, heading in the direction she’d gone.

‘You’re going to talk to her?’ Daphne asked, her heels clicking on the pavement as she barely kept up with him.

‘If I can catch her,’ Grayson said grimly.
She must have already turned a corner
.

‘And if you can’t?’

Grayson thought of the sign behind Phin Radcliffe when he’d reported the story that morning.
Brae Brook Village Apartments
. ‘Then I know where she lives.’

‘As does everyone in the free world with an internet connection.’

He thought of Elena, of the bullet-hole in her head. ‘I know. Do me a favor. Go back to the office and find out everything you can about her.’

‘Starting with her name?’ Daphne asked.

‘Yeah. Start with that. Thanks, Daphne.’

The woman lived on the outskirts of the city. If she’d driven in, she had to park somewhere. There was a parking garage a block ahead.
Be there. Let me catch you
.

Tuesday, April 5, 11.50
A.M
.

Well, that was useless
. Paige walked back to her truck, her step as brisk as her stiff knees would allow.
I’ll know if I can trust him
, she thought sardonically.
I’m an idiot
.

She came, she saw, she left more conflicted than before. All she could honestly say was that Grayson Smith’s photographs didn’t do him justice. He was broodingly handsome in the newspaper photos, but in person he . . . dominated. It was his physical size, true. The man could have been a linebacker, but it was more than that. He had a presence. Like . . .
Don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll fix everything
.

The people who’d gathered to shake his hand had felt it too. It was written all over their grateful faces as they thanked him for getting justice for their murdered loved one.

She could say he was a successful prosecutor with a passion for his work, but she’d known that already. What she suspected by watching him was that he had a passion for a great many other things, most of which she hadn’t done in way too many months.

She might admit, in a weak moment, that he’d fascinated her. And that she had been entirely too attracted for her own good.

What she still didn’t know was if she could trust him. Damned if she didn’t want to, though. But she’d been taken in by a pretty face too many times in the past to succumb.

She’d wanted to trust every man she’d let into her life. Too many times. Too many men. But ‘in the past’ was key. There’d been a time when she hadn’t let a week go by between breaking up with one disappointment, only to fly to the next one.

Looking for love in all the wrong places, hating myself for being so pathetic
.

No more. It had been eighteen months since she’d allowed herself to succumb. Eighteen months since she’d watched her best friend find the real thing. What Olivia had with David made every one of Paige’s relationships pale in comparison.

She wanted what Olivia and David had. She wanted to find the one who’d be her happy ever after. And so she’d gone cold turkey on her man habit, waiting until she found the right one.

Which meant she’d gone cold turkey on sex, too. Eighteen fucking months.

Or . . . non-fucking months, as Olivia would always say.

Olivia. Hell. I should have called her. She’ll be so worried
. All of her friends would be worried. The light turned red and Paige halted at the corner. Checking her phone, she was chagrined to find her voicemail full, mostly numbers she didn’t recognize. Apparently the press had obtained her number. Not too hard if they were any good at their job.

The Minneapolis numbers she did recognize. Olivia had called six times. Paige hit speed dial one and prepared for a tirade. She wasn’t disappointed.

‘Oh. My. God. David and I were so worried.’

‘I’m okay, Olivia,’ Paige said calmly. ‘I wasn’t hurt and I’m fine.’

‘You were almost
shot
. What the hell were you
thinking
?’

‘That somebody needed help? Hello? Pot calling the kettle much? Like you guys wouldn’t have done the same?’

Olivia was a homicide detective, her husband a firefighter. They made their living putting themselves in danger for people who needed help.

‘Well, yeah,’ Olivia admitted grumpily. ‘But you should have called us. I had to get the news from David, who had to get it from one of the guys at the firehouse who saw you on YouTube.’

‘It’s been an . . . eventful morning.’

‘I guess so. Are you really all right? You looked like you took a hard fall.’

‘I’m okay,’ she said again. ‘Shaken, but okay.’

There was a moment of silence, then Olivia sighed. ‘That’s not what I’m really worried about,’ she confessed. ‘Paige, you’ve seen two women gunned down in front of you, in less than a year. You can’t be okay. I was just thinking that maybe you’d want to see someone.’

‘Like a shrink?’

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t need a shrink,’ Paige said decisively.

‘I never thought I would either. Seeing all the death creeps up on you, though. I found talking to someone really helped. At least I can sleep at night. Can you?’

‘No,’ Paige murmured.

‘The same dream?’

Paige swallowed hard. ‘Yes.’

‘What happened today can’t make that any better. Promise me you’ll consider finding a counselor. Do it for me. Please.’

‘I promise.’

‘Which? That you’ll consider it or that you’ll do it?’

‘At least the first one,’ Paige hedged.

Olivia sighed. ‘I didn’t expect any more than that.’ There was muted conversation in the background. ‘David says to tell you he posted pictures of his belt ceremony on Facebook. He missed having you there last night. We all missed you.’

Paige stared up at the light, willing it to turn green. ‘I wanted to be there for him. Second dan black belt.’ It was an honor. An achievement. She should have been there. But she’d been doing something important – saving Zachary Davis. ‘Tell him I’m proud of him.’

‘Have you found a
dojo
?’ Olivia asked, in a way that said she knew the answer.

‘No, not yet. I’ve been working out at the gym. Practicing on my own.’

‘You said that the last time I asked you.’

And I’ll say it the next time too
. Her karate
dojo
had once been like her second home, her family. But after what happened last summer, Paige hadn’t been able to walk through a
dojo
door.

There were bloodstains on her
gi
that she’d never get out. A few months after the attack she’d bought a new
gi
, brightly white, but she’d never put it on. She simply couldn’t. She’d tried. Many times. Finally she’d packed the
gi
s away.

Someday she’d be ready to go back. She’d kept her body toned, her skills sharp. But the
dojo
with its sense of family . . . Yes, someday she’d go back.
Soon
.

The light finally turned green and Paige took off like a rocket. Her other coat pocket started to buzz, startling her until she realized it was her disposable phone. Clay was the only one who called her on the disposable. ‘I have to go, Liv. Give everyone my love. I’ll call you later.’ She hung up before Olivia could protest and flipped the disposable open. ‘What’s up?’

‘Where are you?’ Clay asked tersely.

‘Still downtown. Why? What’s happened?’

‘Maria Muñoz is in the ER,’ Clay told her.

‘
What?
Why?’

‘Heart attack. Her younger son said it wasn’t the first one she’d had. She collapsed when the cops came to tell them about Elena. She’s conscious now and her son told me she’d said nothing about the case or you to the cops. None of them have.’

‘Dear God. Did you tell them about the flash drive?’

‘No. I figured the fewer people who knew, the better. From what I can tell, Elena didn’t tell anyone in her family that she had it. They knew she was going to the bar and all of them had begged her not to go, but she was determined to get proof.’

‘We need to find out how she got the drive to start with. She just didn’t walk into the bar and find it in a bowl of nuts.’

‘I think I can guess.’ Clay sighed. ‘Elena looked different six years ago.’

‘I know. She said she lost almost a hundred pounds after Ramon was jailed.’ The family business was a physically taxing one. ‘Why is that important?’

‘Because Ramon’s little brother said Elena told everyone in their circle that she was tired of cleaning toilets and sweeping floors because Ramon couldn’t keep it in his pants six years ago. She wanted out of the family business. The brother said the family knew it was a ruse, but they all played along. Elena got hired at the bar.’

‘Ramon’s alibi bar? I told her to stay away from that place. That I’d check it out.’

‘Yeah, well, she didn’t listen.’

‘How long was she working there?’

‘For the last two weeks. She wanted to get close to the owner. Find out why he lied on the stand. Apparently she laid it on thick and followed through with . . . action.’

Paige grimaced. ‘Oh God. Tell me she didn’t have sex with that skeazy slime.’

‘Apparently she did. At least that’s the story Ramon got inside. Denny Sandoval was pretty satisfied with himself, bedding Ramon’s wife – and he made sure Ramon heard about it. News like that travels damn fast. Ramon blew a gasket. His brother said he lit into some big guys in the yard during recess. They were riding him about it.’

Paige felt sick. ‘Is Ramon alive?’

‘He’s in the clinic. He’ll live, but one of the guys he pummeled might not make it.’

‘And then he’ll be a killer for real. That’s not fair,’ she hissed fiercely.

‘None of this is fair. Ramon told Elena he wanted a divorce when she went to see him in the clinic on Saturday.’

‘You can’t blame him, I suppose, based on what he’d heard. I guess Elena’s taking such a huge risk to get those pictures makes sense. I guess she didn’t feel like she had anything to lose.’ Paige headed into the parking garage where she’d left her truck.

‘That’s my take, too. What did you decide to do about the prosecutor?’

‘I don’t know yet. I didn’t actually talk to him.’