“So what happens next? You do your job while I do mine and hope that Rossi does his?”
Bradshaw stood and opened the door. “I know what Rossi is going to do and I know what I’m going to do. As for you, well, I guess you’ve got a decision to make.”
Alex rose. “What are you’re saying? That I should tank my client’s case to get him off the street?”
“I’d never tell you to do that. The system sucks, but it isn’t broken beyond repair.”
“Then what?”
“I’ll knock the drug charge down to a Class C felony for simple possession. He does a minimum of three years.”
“That’s it?”
“No. He stays in jail, enters the plea tomorrow, and starts serving his sentence immediately. That’s how we’ll get him off the streets. Convince him to take it and we’ll all sleep a lot better.”
“What about the murders?”
“The investigations are ongoing, but tell him that if he confesses now I’ll drop the drug charge. He gets life for the murders, but I don’t mean the get-out-in-thirty-years life. I mean consecutive life sentences for each murder so that he never sees the outside again. If he says no, tell him that I’ll make it my life’s work to see that he’s convicted and sentenced to death.”
Alex sighed. His plan made sense.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah. Say hi to Bonnie,” he said.
Chapter Eighteen
Alex hurried back to the courtroom. Judge Upton had finished with the last case and returned to his chambers. Four sheriff’s deputies were leading the defendants out a side door and into a hallway. From there, the deputies would herd them back to the jail. Alex caught up to them in the hall, grateful that she recognized one of the deputies.
“Deputy Paulson, hang on,” she said.
Paulson had spent his career escorting prisoners back and forth from the jail to the courthouse. He had a slight, stoop-shouldered frame, a thin face, and arthritic hands, relying on his badge and the prisoners’ shackles to maintain order. Paulson turned toward her and smiled when she called his name.
“What can I do for you, Counselor?”
Alex pointed to Dwayne. “I need a moment with my client.”
“You can follow along. Talk to him back at the jail.”
“I wish I could, but I’ve got to be in court in fifteen minutes, and this won’t take long. I promise.”
Paulson looked at one of the other deputies. “Jerry, come with me. Tom and Ralph, you guys take the rest on back. We’ll be along in a minute.”
“Thanks,” Alex said. “I need some privacy. There’s a witness room right around the corner. You and the other deputy can wait outside the door.”
Paulson shook his head. “I don’t know about that.”
“Don’t worry. I’m his favorite lawyer and his arms and legs are shackled. I can handle him.”
She reassured Paulson without any of the sarcasm she heard in her head. The thought of being Dwayne’s favorite anything made her skin crawl.
Paulson held up one hand, fingers spread. “Five minutes. That’s it. You want more than that, you’ll have to come to the jail.”
Back in the witness room, Alex pointed to one of the plastic chairs. She wanted the advantage of Dwayne looking up at her. “Sit.”
Dwayne dropped into the chair, head angled to one side, disinterested and cocky. “What up?”
“The prosecutor is offering you a deal.”
Dwayne narrowed his eyes. “How come?”
“What do you mean, how come? This is good news.”
“Sounds like good news to him if I take it. How that make it good news for me?”
“You’re charged with a Class A felony for possession with intent to distribute. That carries a minimum of ten years and a maximum of thirty or life. Bradshaw is offering to knock it down to a Class C, simple possession. Maximum sentence is seven years. He’ll settle for three but you stay in jail today. You’ll enter the plea tomorrow and immediately start serving your sentence.”
“Why I agree to stay in jail when you got me out? That shit don’t make no sense.”
“You’re only out until your trial.”
“When that gonna be?”
“Six months, maybe sooner, maybe later.”
“Why I wanna take that deal when you gonna get me off?”
“You can’t count on that, not after the police found enough crack in your pockets to get everyone on your block high.”
He smiled. “Shit, girl. You got me off for killin’ Wilfred, you sure as shit get me off for havin’ my mama’s crack in my jeans, ’specially since I never smoked that shit one time in my whole fuckin’ life.”
“The prosecutor never offered you a deal in Wilfred’s case, so you had nothing to lose by going to trial. Now you’ve got a choice. Do three years instead of taking the chance of doing ten to life. If the crack really was your mother’s and if you were just keeping her from using it, all you had to do was flush it down the toilet. Since you didn’t, there’s a good chance the jury will think it was yours and that you intended to sell it, and if they do, you’re going away for a long, long time.”
Dwayne was silent, thinking about what Alex had said. She liked the way the conversation was going. No one could fault her for the advice she was giving him. It was realistic and in his best interests. She’d be home free, her soul intact, if Dwayne took the deal. Her heart sank when he shook his head.
“This shit ain’t right. Bradshaw wants my ass for them murders. That’s why he tol’ the judge not to let me out. All he doin’ is tryin’ to squeeze me, get me to roll on that other shit. You tell him to go fuck himself.”
“You’re right about that. He does want you for the murders. He’ll drop the drug charge if you confess to killing Kyrie Chapman and the Hendersons. Do that and he won’t ask for the death penalty. You’ll get consecutive life sentences. No parole. You’ll die in prison but it won’t be on a gurney with a needle in your arm.”
Dwayne slammed his hands on the table and bolted from his chair, banging into Alex and knocking her against the wall. She was stunned for an instant, her breath taken away at how fast and fierce he was when provoked.
“Man! That shit is fucked up!”
Deputy Paulson swung the door open, one hand on the baton strapped to his hip. Dwayne retreated to the far corner of the witness room as Alex straightened and ran her hands across her jacket and slacks.
“You okay, Counselor?”
Alex’s heart was pounding. It was the first time she’d seen Dwayne explode with such violence, making it easy to imagine him savaging the Henderson family and erasing any doubt she may have had about his threat against Bonnie. She took a deep breath, not wanting to let Dwayne see how badly he’d shaken her.
“Fine. I’m fine. We’re fine. My client got a little excited and accidentally bumped into me. Nothing to be concerned about.”
Paulson glared at Dwayne. “Let’s wrap this up.”
Alex put her hand on the door. “We’re almost done. I promise. Give me a few more minutes.”
Paulson waited a moment before nodding and closing the door. Alex turned to Dwayne. He was breathing hard, like he was pumping himself up, ready to go to war. She hoped he’d calm down, but the fire in his eyes didn’t fade and his jaw was clenched so tight that the muscles in his face were twitching, convincing her that he was a bomb that would blow up if she made one wrong move.
“Let’s at least talk about this, okay?”
“I said, tell that muthafucker to go fuck himself.”
