time to make amends with his father. But that was an issue he would have to deal with some other time.
The five-dollar “witness fee” that Johnny thought would carry weight became a fifty-dollar advance, paid by Chandler. He had travel expenses to cover, he explained. Once Chandler peeled off the bills and placed them in his witness’s hand, Ronald Norling’s memory became instantly more acute. It was obviously not the first time he had played this game. Chandler wondered about Ronald’s background: where he came from, what trouble he’d been in, whether or not he had a record…things that would become credibility issues were he to testify. But that was all information he could glean from the computer at the precinct.
Right now, he had to find out exactly what Ronald saw that night in the supermarket, and how well he remembered it. He had brought a picture of Harding along, as well as a picture of Denise and Denise’s sister, Shari Moore. Before committing Hellman to a witness, he wanted to be absolutely sure that this cocky twenty-year-old could at least identify the suspect from a photo.
“As I explained to you on the phone, I need information regarding an incident that occurred while you were employed at Food amp; More.” Chandler pulled out his phone and poked and scrolled his way to the voice-recording app.
“Whoa,” Ronald said. “What are you doing?”
“Recording what we talk about. It’s for my boss, to prove that I was here and did what he’s paying me to do. This way, he can also listen to what you said so you don’t have to go through all of it again. You okay with this?”
“Yeah,” Ronald said with a shrug. “But if I don’t like what we say, I want you to delete it.”
Chandler nodded. “I can live with that.” He tapped the screen and started recording. “This is Ryan Chandler and I’m in Rhode Island at the rest stop along Interstate Ninety-five, near Hope Valley. I’m interviewing Ronald Norling, a former clerk for Food amp; More in Sacramento, California. This is being recorded on Saturday, January 9, at nine-fifteen in the morning.” He looked up at Ronald. “Ronald, you understand that we’re recording this, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And so far all we’ve discussed is the need to record this, and the fact that we’re going to talk about an incident you may have witnessed while employed at Food amp; More, is that correct?”
“Right again.”
“Do you remember a shouting match that occurred in the market between a man and a woman in late November?”
“The market’s in a real nice neighborhood, so we didn’t get much problems. But late November…yeah, I remember some crazy lady. She was screaming at this guy. She was real nasty, like out of her mind. Just screaming at him. I felt bad for him.”
“I have pictures of three women here,” he said, handing him the photos. “Do you see the woman from the store in any of them?”
“Yeah, that’s her,” Ronald said, popping gum between his teeth. “A real piece. I won’t forget that face. Or that body,” he said with a smile that rose slightly from the corners of his mouth.
“Ronald, can you turn that picture over, the one of the lady you said was in the store? And read me the name that’s written on the back.”
“Brittany Harding.”
“Now turn the other pictures over and read me the names.”
“Denise Chandler…and Shari Moore.”
“Do you remember what the lady in the picture-Miss Harding-said when she was screaming in the market?”
“Yeah, something about getting even. Like ‘You’ll pay for this. I’ll make you pay for this.’ She said he raped her or something. But you look at this guy, and you think he’s not the kind of guy who goes out and rapes someone.”
“You remember anything about what she bought that night?” The second most important question…and Chandler needed a home run on this one.
Ronald stood there and thought for a moment. “Not really. Just some food. There weren’t too many things. It was a cash-only fifteen-item limit line. Oh, she had beer. A six-pack. That black and gold label, what the hell’s the name of it?” he asked, gazing off at the freeway. “Not Miller, but-Millstone. That’s it. I thought like, what’s a lady like this drinking a dark beer like that? I even asked her about it. You know, just to calm her down, take the edge off. She was pretty wound up.” He laughed. “She nearly took my head off. Told me to mind my own fucking business. Said she has a right to drink anything she wants. She’s got a real mouth on her, for a lady, I mean.”
“What did you say to that?”
He laughed. “I didn’t argue with her. I just wanted her off my line. She gave me the creeps. She’s like the kind of person you worry about pulling a gun out of her purse and blowing your head off.”
Chandler thanked him and ended the recording.
He told Ronald that he might need to ask him some more questions, took down his address, and gave him his card. Ronald studied it, seemingly intrigued by the title of forensic investigator.
“Maybe you can come by my lab one day when you’re in town. I’ll show you around, what we do.”
“Hey, that’d be cool. You’d do that?”
“Sure. Just call me so I know you’re coming. I’ll need to get clearance.” Chandler suspected that there weren’t too many people in Ronald’s life who took an interest in him simply for Ronald’s sake.
They shook hands and Chandler left. He phoned Jeffrey Hellman once he got back in his car and gave him the good news. That night, he emailed Hellman the audio file.
CHAPTER 51
The remainder of the three weeks passed quickly for Chandler. He became engulfed in his cases again, working with Nick on the flood-tainted evidence to see if there was some way he could salvage the state’s case against Bobby Lee Walker. He went back to the crime scene, the victim’s apartment, and was able to secure an intact latent print from the underside of the coffee table near where the victim was found. With this sole piece of evidence, the prosecutor was going to go to the grand jury to try to secure an indictment. There was motive, and all they had to do was place the suspect at the murder scene.
The indictment came down, and again Chandler’s back was patted for his fine work. Hennessy growled and grumbled at Chandler’s luck, at the same time marveling at his natural talent for finding a way to fix whatever went awry.
Denise’s pregnancy test was positive, elating both of them as they began discussing the changes a new child would bring to their lives. But despite the numerous diversions, as the days passed, Madison’s case returned to the forefront of Chandler’s thoughts. Although he had marked the date on his calendar as a reminder to call about the DNA test results, his internal clock was ticking way, poised to notify him like an alarm chronograph to beep at a predetermined time.
It had been nearly two weeks since the Madisons had seen Hellman when Leeza called to invite him over for dinner. He arrived early, with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a medium-sized box in the other. “I know how much you love dark chocolate. I saw this tort in the market when I was picking out the flowers and couldn’t resist.”
“A tort,” Leeza said. “Is that a little lawyer joke?”
“Apparently, very little.”
Leeza laughed, then took the flowers and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Maybe we’ll skip dinner and go right to the dessert.”
“No word yet,” Hellman said. “But we should be hearing soon.” Hellman removed his suit coat and tossed it over the back of the couch. “My stomach has more knots than a roomful of men wearing ties.”
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
Madison walked into the room and gave Hellman a pat on the back. “Any news?”
“Nothing yet.”
