Killer Ambition - [70]

Seeing his reaction, Eric added, “We’d certainly file if it were anyone else, Bill. And if we don’t, you can expect there’ll be victims’ rights groups who’ll accuse you of playing favorites.”

Predictably, the possibility of public backlash was what got Vanderhorn’s attention. Hollywood was powerful, but he couldn’t win an election if everyone outside of Hollywood hated him. Vanderputz was on the horns of what was, in his world, a true dilemma.

“I want to see those reports. I’ll make my decision then.”

That concluded the proceedings, and Eric and I headed back to our humble neck of the woods.

“Now I’m praying the evidence doesn’t come back to Powers. If I have to keep dealing with crap like that, I’ll go postal.”

Eric shook his head sadly. “Now you did it. The gods of trial are sure to punish you. The minute you say you don’t want it, that’s when you get it.”

I laughed. “Thanks, Eric, I needed that.”

“I wasn’t kidding.”

“Neither was I.” I waved to him and walked back down the hall to my office.

Ten minutes later, I got a call from Bailey.

“Put on your flak vest. We’ve got Ian’s prints and hair in Averly’s Mustang and Ian’s thumb and index print on the trunk of Brian’s car. And we’ve got Averly’s prints on the interior driver’s door handle of Brian’s car-”

“So how do you see it?” I asked. “Averly drove Brian’s car to the airport with Hayley’s body in the trunk, and Ian drove Averly’s car?”

“Possibly, but here’s the best part: Remember that bloodstain on the trunk of Brian’s car?”

“Of course.”

“Well, it’s a mixture of Hayley’s and Ian Powers’s-”

“Holy shit-”

“Wait, it gets better: that bloodstain is right next to Ian’s thumbprint.”

I sucked in a lungful of air. “No kidding?” That was one hell of a lot of circumstantial evidence. But it all hinged on the blood. Prints were great, but we’d never be able to say when they got there. Same with Ian’s hair. But a mixture of Ian’s and Hayley’s blood. That was undeniable. Then why was I nervous? Would I feel this way if the defendant was just an Average Joe? Probably not. The thought rankled.

“Right? One hell of a case. But I gotta run. Got to bring the brass up to speed and get them ready for an arrest. I’ll have the reports walked over to you so you can start filing.”

Bailey sounded stoked, so I didn’t want to be a buzzkill and tell her that I wasn’t flying solo on this one, that Vanderhorn would make the final call on whether to file-and that his approval was by no means a foregone conclusion. “I’m on it.”

Of course, this meant I’d have to go back to Vanderhorn immediately. Two meetings in one day. Talk about cruel and unusual punishment.

43

I called Eric and gave him the news. His response?

“Told you so.” I had a feeling there were a lot more “told you so’s” in my near future. “Call me back when you have the reports in hand. I’ll set up the meeting with Vanderhorn.”

I couldn’t sit still, so I went down the hall to see Melia. I had a question for her, and I wanted to ask it in person. I moved back up the hallway and found her chattering excitedly on the phone. When she saw me in the doorway, she quickly said, “Call you later,” and hung up.

“Hi, Rachel!”

“Hi, Melia!” Another secretary might’ve caught the note of sarcasm, but that secretary would not be Melia. “I was just wondering, who’ve you given my cell phone number to? I just need to know what to expect.” I’d deliberately framed the question to assume she’d given out my number in the hope that it’d lull her into admitting it.

“No one.” She stared off for a moment, mouth partially open, as she considered the question further. “Nuh-uh, I’m sure I didn’t give it out to anyone. Why, is there someone you want me to give it to?”

No nervousness, no embarrassment. She was telling the truth.

“No, not that I can think of right now. But I expect there’ll be calls from the press and the tabs if we file the case, and I don’t want them to be able to reach me on my cell. You know how much I hate the press-”

“I’d never give your number to the press. Eric told me never to give out deputies’ cell phone numbers a long time ago.”

Then how did that tabloid reporter, Andrew Chatham, get my cell phone number?

“Uh, excuse me, I have something to deliver to Ms. Knight,” said a male voice behind me. I turned to see a uni holding a manila envelope. The reports from Bailey.

I told him I was the one he was looking for and he started to ask me for ID, but Melia interceded.

“It’s her.”

Why that was sufficient to allay his concern I have no idea, but he handed me the envelope and I thanked him. As I walked back to my office, I noticed it was taped closed. It was unusual to seal reports this way-let alone have them hand-delivered, but this case required extraordinary measures. I reviewed all the reports, just to make sure there were no hidden surprises. I didn’t see any, but I was about to go in and do battle with the Meathead, so I decided to call Dorian and make sure there were no caveats to be wary of.

“Dorian, I read everything, but I have to go and sell this case to Vanderhorn. Is there anything I should know that isn’t in these reports?”