Count on Me Page 7
“It’s only been a few hours, but so far I’ve gotten a lunch invitation out of it so I can’t complain.”
“We’re on our way to the courthouse. I figured I’d toss Caroline into the deep end and let her handle some bail hearings.”
Which was news to her, but okay then. She’d done bail hearings so many times that even in a new jurisdiction she should have no problems.
They headed up the front steps and into the large foyer of the courthouse. “We’re on the second floor. That’s where they bring over the non-flight risks from the jail. We’ll have hearings on the three cases I put on your desk this morning.”
This had been a test of her preparedness. She’d read those case files before he’d even arrived at the office. It was easy to forget that Edward Chase was an incredibly accomplished man because he was charming and jovial.
But beneath that exterior he was a little bit of a shark. It made her like him even more.
“Depending on the judge I think Reggie Miller and Marvin Wilson should be fine. Abel Carson though, this is his third arrest on receiving stolen goods. From what I understand of this judge, she doesn’t take too kindly to repeat offenders. Even when their daddy owns the car lot and the feed store in town.”
Edward grinned like she’d just won first prize.
She dived in and handled the hearings. Edward didn’t say much after he introduced her to the judge. She met with her clients, and maybe two of the three wouldn’t be back for a repeat performance if she could get them out of trouble.
After wrapping things up at the courthouse, they’d headed over to the Sands for lunch. Once they’d put in their orders and two tall glasses of iced tea had been set before them, Edward raised his in Caroline’s direction. “You did a good job today. Glad to have you on board.”
She snorted but raised her glass back. “Thanks.”
“So, tell me something, Caroline.”
“What’s that?”
“Your daddy was found guilty and he lost three appeals. Why do you still think he’s innocent?”
She preferred direct people in her life and Edward Chase was no exception. Better he ask than she try to figure out what she could talk about and in how much detail.
“Where was the motive? Why would a happily married man with no criminal history and not a single whisper of trouble in his marriage suddenly violently murder his wife? They had nothing. The only physical evidence was paper thin. His DNA at the scene? A diner he was in daily? He had no defensive wounds. If he’d have stabbed her forty-two times, how did he not nick himself a single one? Where was the murder weapon? There was so much evidence they just never followed up on. There were footprints outside the back door. Three sizes bigger than my father’s. There was blood, three drops of it, from my mother’s body to the back door. Not the same type as my father’s. They never even ran a DNA test.”
“So why arrest your daddy then? Why put him on trial? Why find him guilty?”
“Sure, because you and I both know people never ever get railroaded for stuff they didn’t do.”
“No shortcuts, Ms. Mendoza.” He wagged his finger.
“Look, here’s this guy, an outsider in a small town. The beautiful blonde former cheerleader and homecoming queen is horribly murdered.” Her jaw hardened for a moment as she thought about her mother, about how truly lovely her mom had been. Caroline had seen the crime-scene photos, the ones her father’s family had refused to let her look at until she’d turned eighteen and gotten the case file herself.
Her mother had been broken. Stabbed and bloodied. Hanks of her hair had been cut off with a knife, probably the same one that had killed her.
“They come in, she’s been horribly killed. My father is holding her and he’s in a fugue state. He can’t answer their questions. He’s covered in her blood. It’s a neat package, and while the sheriff you have now is certainly no slouch, the one Petal had then wasn’t going to turn away from an easy answer. A Mexican guy comes in, takes their golden beauty and kills her. He told the court during my dad’s trial that that’s what people like Enrique do. I’ll never forget that as long as I live.
“My father made an easy target. Add lazy police work and an overloaded system, and you got a conviction. He had a decent defense. Hell, his attorney even helped me appeal on inadequate defense. The other procedural stuff?” She shrugged her shoulders. “I used to think all I had to say was he didn’t do it and they’d let him go. It’s what drove me to law school. And then I learned that wasn’t enough. I have a sense that some evidence was withheld but not enough to actually build a case. I know for sure there’s evidence missing. Phone log pages from the days following the murder for one.”
Edward nodded as they paused when their lunch arrived.
“He didn’t do it. I knew my parents better than anyone else who testified. They argued, sure, but not in an abnormal way. She spoiled us and he spoiled her and they were good. My dad was a gentle person. And no one was more damaged by her murder than he was. He used to weep all the time that the real killer was out there. He worried over me and my siblings, for our safety.”
She shook her head. “This is a man who never even spanked us, how is that guy going to stab his wife forty-two times and hack off her hair? And why? Where did the hair go? Where did the weapon go? Whose blood was it at the scene? There was not enough to overcome reasonable doubt. At all.”