Nothing But the Truth (22 page)

Ryan shrugged. Though the subject intrigued her, she had long ago resigned herself to the realization that the internal workings of the criminal mind would often elude her. In this case, it was probably something as simple as Edwards had figured Kenneth would serve his purpose merely by providing reasonable doubt. His lawyer would be entitled to know if someone else had come forth confessing to the crime, even if the prosecution team didn’t plan to offer that testimony at trial. The defense attorney could then offer the evidence about that confession and try to convince the jury that the mere fact of another confession, however lame, should shed some doubt on Edwards’s guilt. After all, why would someone confess to doing something, especially something as heinous as murder, if they hadn’t actually committed the crime?

Ryan winced at the thought of a defense attorney using one of the most common arguments of prosecutors. Usually, it was the other way around, with defense making arguments about false confessions.
My client may have said he did it, whatever it was, but he didn’t mean it. He was coerced or threatened.
When the prosecutors got their turn, they invariably countered with the simplistic, but believable notion—innocent people don’t confess to bad acts. Ryan had made that argument plenty of times in the past. She wondered how many times she’d been wrong.

She was full of feeling wrong today. Time to focus on what was right with this case since it was the only thing she had going for her right now. On her way home from Brett’s, Leonard had called, cheering through the phone line. He was ecstatic about the break in the case.
Seal this case up, and you’ll be the next DA. No doubt.
This case. This election. These things were her future, and Ryan knew her future was where her focus should be.

“I need to talk to you two.”

The voice was Brett’s. Ryan was instantly stripped of her resolve, and her focus blurred from the facts of the case to her memories of Brett, pliant and willing, in her arms. She wanted to pull Brett aside, talk to her, size up her reaction to last night, but she didn’t trust herself to limit the bounds of such an encounter. Right now, all she could focus on was her desire to kiss Brett’s lips, feel her smooth skin, and take what Brett had been so willing to offer. She made a snap decision to act as if nothing had happened between them.

“We need to talk to you too. Jeff’s going to want to meet with you and Kenneth about your testimony since he’ll take you both on direct.” She ignored Jeff’s shocked look at her uncharacteristic selflessness. She knew he assumed she would hog the star witnesses for herself. She hated to admit it, but if last night hadn’t happened, she probably would have.

Brett didn’t respond directly. She had her own concerns. “I understand you may want me as a witness, but Kenneth’s going to need a new attorney. I wanted to give you a heads up. I’m headed to talk to Judge Langston about it now.” Brett hadn’t slept the night before either, but she’d put the time to good use. After considering all the angles, she had come to the conclusion she needed to withdraw from representing Kenneth.

 “What?” Jeff and Ryan spoke at the same time.

Ryan shot Jeff a look that said she would respond. She took a deep breath. “Ms. Logan, if you’re concerned about a conflict, we’re willing to extend full use immunity to Kenneth. Of course that is dependent on his waiver of attorney-client privilege.”

“Ms. Logan?” Brett let a smile slip into the corners of her mouth. Was Ryan really trying to act like nothing had happened between them? If nothing else, the shared experience of revelations during Kenneth’s debrief should have swept away such formalities between them. The woman was unbelievable, but Brett was willing to play along. To a certain extent. “I think you should call me Brett.”

Ryan tried to ignore Brett’s pointed look, but the hint of a smile was contagious. “Sorry.
Brett
.”

“Thanks. Full use immunity is great, but it doesn’t cover him if he lies to you. He needs to have another attorney advise him about what can happen if he doesn’t hold up his end of the bargain.” Brett paused, as if considering her next move. “I’m headed to chambers now if you want to come with.”

Ryan stood. “Great idea.” She motioned for Jeff to stay behind. She didn’t need his help for the maneuver she had planned, plus she was gambling she might catch a moment alone with Brett. She needed to set things straight between them.

*

“Ms. Logan, Ms. Foster, good to see you both.”

Brett hadn’t expected to run into the judge in the hallway, and she didn’t want to have this discussion out in the open. “Good morning, Judge. We were actually on our way to see you. May we have a few minutes?”

“Certainly. I have to take care of something in Judge Hall’s court. I’ll be back on the bench in about five minutes.”

“We’d like to talk to you in chambers if you don’t mind.”

Judge Langston glanced at Ryan who affirmed Brett’s request with a nod. “Very well. Go on back. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Brett led the way and seconds later, she and Ryan were seated on the loveseat directly across from Judge Langston’s desk. Ryan was acting like Brett had a dreaded disease, and she sat with her legs tucked off to the side, as far away from Brett as possible. Brett stared at Ryan. Ryan stared back. Ryan spoke first.

“I’m sorry about last night.”

“Me too, but I suspect we have different motivations for our apologies.”

Ryan was confused. She wanted to know more, but she was wary of going down a path from which there would be no easy return. Curiosity won. “And you’re apologizing because…”

“Because I wanted something you are clearly not ready or willing to give.” There, thought Brett, I said it and I’m glad I did. Ryan just sat there, apparently flummoxed. She opened her mouth several times as if to say something, but no words came out. Brett watched the process, determined not to bail Ryan out.

“Brett, I—“

“Sorry, ladies, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” Judge Langston sailed into the room and sat behind the desk. Brett followed her eyes to the crystal framed clock on her desk, nine thirty. Thank goodness they weren’t going to be captive for teatime.

Ryan moved to the edge of her seat and started speaking first. “Thanks for seeing us, Judge. We have a situation—“ Ryan felt a light touch near her knee and caught Brett’s hand making the subtle motion. She caught the hint. She reluctantly ceded the conversation to Brett. “Brett, I mean, Ms. Logan, can explain.”

Brett nodded in Ryan’s direction, but focused her attention on the judge as she explained the situation with Kenneth. “Judge, you remember the conversation we had the other day, about the person you appointed me to represent? Pre-indictment confession to a capital murder?”

“Yes.”

“Some things have come up on that case. I need to go ahead and divulge this person’s identity and ask you to appoint new counsel.”

Judge Langston turned to Ryan. “Is this information in relation to the search warrant I signed for you last night?” At Ryan’s nod, she turned back to face Brett. “I know the basics, but fill me in on the points relevant to your request to be removed from the case.”

As Brett outlined the circumstances of the debrief session with her client, Judge Langston listened intently, and then summed up what she had heard.

“The young man wanted to confess, but not because he did the murder, but to get out of trouble on another case?”

“That’s correct, Judge.”

Judge Langston directed her next question to Ryan. “And you have evidence to support that the defendant in the Dinelli case, Ross Edwards, arranged this faux confession?”

“Yes, Your Honor. Strong evidence,” Ryan replied.

“And you believe that he’s telling the truth? Not about the murder confession, but about being persuaded to tell a lie?”

“We obtained credible evidence in response to the search warrant we executed yesterday.”

“Do you intend to list Ms. Logan as a witness in your case?”

Ryan hesitated, for several reasons. One, she found it strange to be talking about Brett as if she weren’t in the room. Second, it felt decidedly weird to be talking about Brett at all when their proximity conjured up sexy images of her hands in Brett’s pants. Ryan’s breathing became shallow, and she willed herself to concentrate on the judge’s question.

“Based on what we found last night…” Ryan paused and flicked a glance in Brett’s direction. “Pardon me, Ms. Logan, we haven’t had a chance to share this information with you yet, but we were able to obtain copies of cell phone records for a phone registered to Edwards. It appears that he called you on your cell and at your office several times over the past week, and based on the length of the calls, he either left lengthy messages on your voice mail or actually talked to you or someone in your office.” Turning back to the judge, Ryan answered the question she’d been asked. “Yes, we intend to list Ms. Logan on the witness list. I don’t have a good idea at this point if we will need to actually call her as a witness. We will introduce phone records and, perhaps, with the testimony of Kenneth Phillips, we will not need her testimony.”

Brett knew the final decision to call her as a witness at trial was a decision that would be made on the fly, during the trial itself, and totally dependent on how the rest of the testimony was shaping up. The judge wasn’t asking Ryan for a firm commitment, only an assessment of the likelihood. Ryan had given Brett her opening.

“Judge, I don’t think I should assume dual roles at this trial. If Ms. Foster wants me on the witness list, my client needs new counsel.” Brett knew it wasn’t as simple as that, but she wanted it to be. Her hope was that either the judge would agree and appoint someone new to advise Kenneth, or Ryan would agree not to call her as a witness. She could tell by the expressions on the faces of both of the other women that they were engaged in complex thought. Not a good sign.

Ryan spoke first. “Judge, I’m prepared to offer full use immunity to Mr. Phillips if he will agree to waive attorney-client privilege and testify truthfully at trial. I think that alleviates any concern about a potential conflict.”

Brett didn’t wait for the judge’s reply. “It doesn’t, Judge. Who is going to review the waiver and immunity offer with Mr. Phillips? I’m supposed to advise my client how to proceed and be willing to testify that he was complicit in a scheme to obstruct justice at the same time? And what if he gets on the stand and tells a decidedly different story than the one he told the prosecutor? There won’t be any immunity then. What if he wants to seek counsel prior to answering questions from either the state or the defense? If I’m a witness, I won’t be in the courtroom while he’s testifying.”

Brett took a long, deep breath while she waited for her onslaught of words to wash over the judge and Ryan. She wondered how much she harped on the issues just to get off the case. While she should have been relieved the case wasn’t turning out to be the capital murder nightmare she’d initially envisioned, the situation was still fraught with its own complex circumstances, even without factoring in the strong pull of attraction between her and Ryan. She knew when the waves receded, all of her professional concerns could be allayed, but she wasn’t sure the personal ones could withstand the light of day. Ryan had practically run from her house after their encounter, and Brett could imagine a dozen reasons why she did. In fact, it surprised her Ryan was arguing in favor of her remaining on the case. Maybe it was a means to erect a barrier between them.

Brett couldn’t deny she had her own motivations to be off the case. She felt betrayed. Kenneth Phillips had started out a sad, lost soul, but he was really just a punk kid, willing to do whatever it took to avoid taking responsibility for his crimes. She knew many of her clients were no different, but she was finally forced to face in stark relief the reality she usually managed to gloss over. When it came down to it, Brett could only hope the mere appearance of impropriety would relieve her of any further responsibilities to young Kenneth Phillips.

Judge Langston had different ideas.

“I think we can handle these issues with a minimum of fuss. It is my opinion we will just make things more complicated by introducing new counsel.” She addressed Brett. “If defense counsel waives the rule just for your testimony, you can be present in the courtroom when Kenneth testifies. If they won’t, then perhaps Ms. Foster will adjust her strategy so you can testify first. If you don’t feel your new position as witness comports with your ability to properly advise your client about his rights as to waiver and immunity, then I would be happy to assess his understanding and advise him myself.”

That’s a lot of ifs, Judge.
Brett didn’t bother speaking the words, since Judge Langston had clearly made up her mind. She saw the judge sneak a look at her watch, and she looked at Ryan who she could tell was thinking the same thing. It was getting dangerously close to teatime and they both had better things to do. Brett resigned herself to continued involvement with Kenneth Phillips, the Edwards case, and with Ryan Foster.

*

Ryan spent the rest of the day working on the case. She enjoyed the fast pace just before a trial. The new developments only made things more exciting. Kenneth Phillips, his revelations, and the evidence the detectives had discovered at Edwards’s home meant hours of additional preparation, but Ryan welcomed the challenge of reworking their strategy. And having a smoking gun was nice too. She and Jeff still had the issue of no direct evidence—no one had seen Ross Edwards pull the trigger that snuffed Mary Dinelli’s life, but she knew Ross Edwards had been involved with Mary Dinelli before she died, he had hired a punk ex-con John Rodriguez to torch Dinelli’s home, he had been seen with the woman who posed as Dinelli as she cashed Dinelli’s veteran’s benefits. Now, she had solid proof Edwards had scammed someone else into confessing in his stead. The circle of circumstantial evidence was drawing close to a single center point: Ross Edwards arranged the murder of Mary Dinelli, then defiled her memory by stealing every last dime she had and having her home burned to the ground.