“Who’ve you raped lately?” she asked. “Bastard-I’m gonna make sure you pay!”
Madison managed to keep his head as he walked out into the cold evening air of the parking lot, leaving her screaming behind him. Some emotional problems. Understatement of the year.
And Jeffrey thinks I need a shrink.
CHAPTER 28
Chandler finished his third cup of coffee and looked up at Madison, who had stopped talking. He was just staring at the table, the lack of sleep apparent on his face.
“Phil?”
Madison sat for another moment, seemingly mesmerized by the pattern of the wood grain on the butcher block table.
“Phil?” Chandler asked. “You okay?”
“Huh?” He looked up. “Yeah, fine.” He forced a smile. “That’s it. That’s the story. They came to my house a few days later and arrested me.”
“And here we are.”
“Here we are.”
“Did you ever speak to Leeza?”
He laughed bitterly. “A couple of days later she called to let me know she and the boys were okay. I told her what had happened, about the bogus evidence they had, and the settlement Jeffrey negotiated, and why we agreed to it. And of course I told her about the picture. She listened to what I had to say, but she didn’t really give much of a response. Said she’d have to think things over, let it all sink in. She wasn’t sure who to believe, if she should believe anyone at all. There was no trust, no common ground. It was very awkward.”
“When was that?”
“I don’t know, a couple weeks ago.”
“Have you spoken to her since then?”
“Yeah. I went by to see the kids. Took them to the park. Jonah wanted to know why they had to stay at his aunt’s house and why they couldn’t see me. It was terrible, Ryan.” He paused, staring at the table again. Tears filled his eyes, but he fought to retain control.
“I call them every other day. Lee doesn’t say much to me. When I was arrested, she drove out to help me with bail. We talked a little. She was still upset that I’d never told her that Harding was even at the house that night. She wanted to know why I didn’t tell her-she was really fixated on that. After all, if I couldn’t trust her, who could I trust? And then the kicker: if I lied about Harding being in the house, how could she know for sure that I didn’t lie about raping her?”
Madison shook his head. “I told her that I didn’t lie about the rape, and I told her that I didn’t kill those two people.” He laughed mockingly. “Said she believed me about the murders, because she knows I’m not a murderer. She wanted to be here for me, but she didn’t want to come back because of a crisis. Bottom line was that she needed to resolve things in her mind before we could move on and be together again.”
Both men were silent for a moment. Then, Madison nodded at the vase on the table. “Leeza used to buy fresh flowers every week. While she’s been gone, the flowers died. Just like everything else in my life. Me, my marriage. My family. My career.”
“Phil, come on. Enough of this negative talk.” Chandler tried to meet Madison’s downcast eyes. “Hey, are you there?”
Madison’s voice was low, almost as if he was talking to himself. “It’s so unlike her.”
Chandler grabbed a pad by the edge of the table. “We need a plan of attack. First, I want to make a list of all the people who have something to offer us in support of the assertion that it was Harding who was driving the car. And people who witnessed the public threats she made against you, the fabricated stories, the people who witnessed the erratic behavior-”
“For what?”
“We’re going to build a case against her, to show that it was her who committed the crime, not you. Didn’t you ever watch Perry Mason?”
“I guess I was too busy studying.”
Chandler laughed. That statement was probably all too true.
“Isn’t Jeffrey going to be doing this?”
Chandler pulled the cap off a gel pen. “You brought me here to help you. I don’t intend to just sit around on my ass examining physical evidence. Besides, it’ll be a few days before we’ll even know if I’ll be allowed access to it. Meantime, I want to make the most of my time-and my skills. And it gives me a chance to spend a few days with my first love-investigation.”
They made up a list of people for him to visit, a list that was sure to grow as Chandler spoke with those people Madison had identified. He was determined to clear Madison, and the best place to start was with the person who in all probability committed the crime. Chandler’s plan was simple: dig up a ton of evidence, build a strong and compelling enough case, and the jury would have to acquit on reasonable doubt.
But any seasoned investigator knew that simple plans often ran into complications.
CHAPTER 29
Prosecutor Timothy Denton was sitting at his desk with a small halogen light on. Files were piled high around him, almost haphazardly, even though he always professed to anyone who commented on its disarray that he knew where everything was. A half-filled cup of black coffee sat on his desk, left over from this morning.
Detective Bill Jennings walked in without acknowledgment-and sat down heavily on the thinly padded chair in front of Denton’s desk. “I’m exhausted,” he said, popping open a can of Barq’s and throwing his boots up on top of Denton’s desk. He moved a couple of files over with his heel so he had a spot to rest his feet comfortably.
“How’s the investigation going, Detective?”
“Why so formal?” Jennings asked, “You never call me ‘Detective’ unless there’s someone else in the room.”
Closing the law book he had been reading, Denton looked up at Jennings for the first time. “This is a big case, Bill; I’ve got to devote all of my time to it. If we screw this up, I’ll be hearing about it from now until the next election. So…if you have something of substance to say, please, regale me with it; otherwise, get your boots off my desk and your ass out of my office.”
Jennings, not one to mince words, took a swig of Barq’s. “I hear that Ryan Chandler is investigating this case for the defense.”
“Yeah, so, who the hell is Ryan Chandler?”
“Let’s just say that he’s not one of my favorite people.”
“And what possible relevance does this Chandler guy have to this case?”
“‘Relevance. Goddamn lawyer talk. Why’s everything gotta have relevance? Can’t it ever just be personal?” He paused, noticing that Denton was not following him. “It’s relevant because I hate the guy’s fucking guts.” He pulled his boots off the desk, leaned forward, put his Barq’s down.
“Fifteen years ago Ryan Chandler left the Sacramento PD and became an investigator for the DA. They had a suspect in custody in a serial murder case when, all of a sudden, there’s a killing that’s kind of similar in Stockton, where I was working at the time. The Stockton case was assigned to me. Chandler suggested we work together on it, because he thought it was the same killer. Said he was going to get pressure to drop the case against the guy they’d already charged. I didn’t agree. The MO was so different that I thought there’s no way this could be the same guy.
“Chandler said the MO had changed only because the killer was adapting to what he’d learned in the prior murders. He thought the guy was getting better at what he did and because of that the MO looked different. I
