“Hey, how are things between you and Shoe Guy?” Corbin asked. He wanted to change the topic before something happened to talk Molly out of accepting a ride from him.
Molly shrugged her shoulders and frowned. She leaned back away from Corbin. “I don’t know, I guess they’re ok. It wouldn’t surprise me if things ended pretty soon.” She rubbed her neck through her jacket as she spoke. She didn’t mention he had already dumped her.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Anyone else lined up?”
Molly sneered at Corbin. “What am I? A bus stop?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“Now you need to wait for the ride to hear more.” She picked up her newspaper again. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
Corbin phoned Alvarez after he left Molly’s office. Alvarez was not happy to hear the news Corbin gave him.
“Shit! What are you going to do?”
“I’ve already done it. I got her to ask me for a ride to Philly.”
“How does that help? That sounds like you’re delivering the noose to the hangman.”
“Think about it. When she gives me the date she needs to be in Philly, then we’ll have a better idea if she’s coming up as a witness or if this is something innocent. If it’s innocent, then I just have to put up with her in the car for two hours. No big deal.”
“What if it isn’t?” His voice was jittery.
Corbin paused. “Then I have a two-hour drive to find out what she’s up to.”
“What if she’s coming to testify?”
“Then I have two hours to talk her out of going.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“What if you can’t?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when the time comes. No matter what, we need to know if the prosecution is doing something with her. We can’t have her come waltzing into the courtroom unexpectedly.”
“Are you going to tell Beckett?”
“No way. Telling him would only complicate this.”
Alvarez took a deep breath. “I hope you know what you’re doing. I have the feeling this is spinning out of control.”
“It only looks that way. Have faith.”
Corbin met Penny for lunch. He felt sick the moment he saw her. She sat by herself with her legs tightly crossed beneath her and her arms tightly folded. She hadn’t removed her heavy winter coat. She even had the coat’s collar up around her neck, buttoned to the top. An untouched cup of coffee sat before her, but no food. She scowled.
“Hello,” Corbin said, as he slid into the chair opposite her. “Before you say anything, let me say that I am truly sorry.”
Penny’s jaw dropped. “What happened to you?! You look horrible?” Her entire expression instantly changed. The angry scowl and the squinting eyes vanished. In their place was deep concern, soft eyes and almost-quivering lips. This was unexpected.
“What do you mean?” Corbin asked.
“I mean, look at you! You’re all pale, like you’re sick. You look five years older and worn out.” She reached over and touched his forehead. “You’ve even got some gray hairs.” She brushed the back of her fingers against his cheeks. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No, no trouble.”
“What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you sick?”
“No. Just tired.”
“You look more than tired. Have you seen a doctor?”
“No, I’m fine. It’s just been stressful.”
“What’s happening, Alex? You really don’t look good.”
Corbin took a deep breath. “It’s just the people I’m dealing with, and my aunt’s getting sicker.” His mouth went dry. “I don’t think she’s going to make it.”
“Oh no!”
Corbin looked at Penny. Oddly, the more sympathetic she became, the more uncomfortable he became. His eyes shifted around. “It’s not that big of a deal,” he said, trying to defuse her sympathy.
“Of course it is!” she protested. Penny moved her chair next to his and threw her arms around him. Corbin hugged her back, though he felt strangely detached. Indeed, his thoughts were elsewhere. He wondered what he might have to do about Molly.
Chapter 34
Monday morning was overcast. It remained bitterly cold, except in the courthouse, which was oppressively hot. Stepping onto the elevator, Corbin and Beckett ran straight into Paul Webb. Beckett greeted Webb, but Webb didn’t respond. Corbin and Beckett slipped in behind Webb and rode to the second floor in silence. When the door opened, they saw Russell and Morales huddled together at the end of the hallway. They were arguing. Beckett noticed Webb pause momentarily when he recognized Morales.
As they watched Webb slip into the courtroom, avoiding Russell and Morales, Beckett whispered to Corbin: “Now there’s a man who wants to talk.”
“Yeah, I got that feeling from the way he blew you off.”
“Trust me, I have a feeling on this one.”
Before Corbin could respond a reporter jumped into their path. She held a tape recorder in Beckett’s face. “Mr. Beckett, Rebecca Sturmer from Channel Nine, can I get an interview?”
“We don’t really have anything to say,” Beckett responded, as he maneuvered around her.
“Are you saying your client is guilty?” she asked, trying to block his path.
“Not at all. I’m saying the facts will come out at trial. In the meantime, I hope you’ll recall that under our Constitution a defendant is presumed innocent until proven guilty.” Beckett escaped around her to the left.
“That’s not a bad quote.”
“You can thank Mr. Jefferson,” Beckett replied, as he and Corbin slipped into the courtroom.
Judge Sutherlin’s bench was stacked high with files. Beaumont’s case was just one of many today. Nevertheless, they were called quickly and Beaumont was brought to the table, shackled and in his orange jumpsuit.
“What the fuck we doing here now? When they gonna dismiss my case?” Beaumont asked loudly.
“We’re here to talk about their experts,” Beckett replied.
“Whenever you’re ready, counselors,” Sutherlin said.
“Good morning, Your Honor,” Beckett began. “The defendant moves for an order requiring the prosecution to produce their fingerprint expert at trial.”
“Wait a minute,” Sutherlin commanded, setting down his pen. “You
“Your Honor, we understand the state attempted to fingerprint the gun and the various checkbooks, but found no fingerprints, certainly not Mr. Beaumont’s.”
Pierce rose to his feet. “Your Honor, we never ran fingerprint tests. Our expert, Dr. Clyde, looked at the items in question and advised us it would not be possible to fingerprint those items, so we ordered no tests.”
“But Your Honor,” Beckett retorted, “the fact they found no fingerprints is proof that may tend to exonerate Mr. Beaumont and it should be made available and should be admissible.”
