'He's dead,' Casey heard herself say tiredly.
'Dead? Come in here,' Bolinger instructed. 'Can you row in?'
Sales lay gasping for air in the bottom of the boat. Casey climbed over him and fitted her oar back into its oarlock. With a dozen hard strokes they were bumping back up against the dock.
'What happened?' Bolinger demanded of Casey. 'I heard the shot. What happened?'
Casey looked up at him and then at Sales, whose pale, wet face plastered with long strands of his black hair showed no emotion whatsoever.
'I can't talk to you about it, Detective,' she said reflexively, then added, 'and neither can he.'
'What? Why the hell not?' Unger snapped, stepping forward, his body posture brazenly challenging her.
'Because,' she said, looking from the two irritated police to Sales, 'this man is invoking his Fifth Amendment rights and I can't say anything to you at this time… I'm his lawyer.'
EPILOGUE
Casey stood before the jury with the power and majesty of a Celtic princess, her deep red hair twisted high up on her head like a crown, her eyes afire with conviction. Her forest green closely tailored suit showed off the strength of her body as well. For the final time, she had presented her argument and it was a good one. Now, all she needed was to close the deal, lock them in.
'To convict my client of murder, I want you to remember this: The law requires that such a crime be an intentional act, proved by the prosecution beyond a reasonable doubt. Furthermore, and just as important, is the fact that any of us has the right, the
Casey let her gaze pass over them all, individually, so they could each get the full sense of her conviction.
'A long time ago,' she said quietly, 'when I was being introduced to the law and its intricacies, I, like many of us, felt the need to punish someone, anyone, for a criminal act. It's an innate reaction. We see someone hurt, we want someone to be punished. But I was told back then to think about this, and these words changed my life: What if it were you…
'What if it were you, or you, or you, or me?' she said, letting her open hand pass over them all before coming to rest on her own breast. 'What if it were you, and what if it were true?
'Think about that, ladies and gentlemen,' she said, raising her voice gradually as she spoke. 'Think about what I've told you here over these past few days. Think about what my client, a fellow human being, has been through. Now, imagine it was you, you were in that very same situation… and imagine everything I've told you was true…
'My client is not guilty,' Casey said, quietly again, 'not of a crime. My client is innocent… Please, I ask you, let justice be served.'
Casey looked at them long and hard, reading their faces. Inwardly she smiled. She had them. They belonged to her the way a great stage actor could own an audience on the Friday night opening of a celebrated play. She stayed there, letting the energy flow between them until she felt it begin to ebb. At that perfect moment, she turned and sat down. Only then was there a whisper, only then did anyone in the entire courtroom dare to move.
Tony leaned her way and whispered, 'Should I have someone get us some sandwiches while we wait?'
'No,' she told him, smiling gently. 'I've got plans for lunch already. Besides, there won't be time for sandwiches.'
'What do you mean?' he asked.
'This won't take more than twenty minutes.'
Casey was wrong.
It took twenty-four. The jury foreman stood and handed the verdict to the bailiff, who handed it to the judge. She read it, handed it back, and told the foreman to please read the verdict.
The foreman, a lineman for the telephone company, was nervous and unused to speaking in public. Forgetting most of the formalities, he simply blurted out, 'We're the jury and we find the defendant not guilty.'
Emotion washed through the courtroom like the crest of a flood. While Tony patted her on the back, Catalina Enos buried her head in Casey's chest, sobbing hysterically and begging her in broken English to accept her heartfelt thanks. The husband's family burst out into angry shouts and had to be forcibly removed from the courtroom.
After accepting the district attorney's perfunctory congratulations, Casey put her arm around the young girl and ushered her out of the courtroom and down the steps without bothering to stop for the shrieking mob of reporters hungry for sound bites. She'd let Tony handle that part of it. It wouldn't do her any good anyway.
When she'd finally fought their way through, Casey tucked the still sobbing girl into the front seat of her Mercedes and got in beside her. They'd optimistically gone over their plan during the past several weeks. Casey had located a halfway house for women in the Houston area that had agreed to take Catalina and help her through a job-training program until she became self-sufficient. The home provided counseling for women who lived in fear like Catalina, and Casey assured her that she would be quite safe from her husband's family since no one but she and a trusted friend would know where she was.
Casey drove through the downtown area to an IHOP resting in the shadow of the highway overhead. Donald Sales sat in a vinyl booth by the window drinking coffee and reading the paper. He looked up in surprise when they walked in.
'I thought I'd be here all day,' he said.
'You know I work fast,' Casey said with a smile.
'This is true,' he replied, signaling for them to sit down.
'Sit and eat, Catalina,' Casey told the girl. 'You've got a long drive. This is the friend I told you about. I trust him with my life, Catalina, and so can you.'
The girl smiled bashfully at Sales and scooted into the booth. Casey slipped Sales an envelope.
'What's this?' he asked, his eyes sharpening.
'For expenses,' she told him.
Sales snorted and handed it back. She took it, knowing better than to argue.
'Sit down,' he told her.
'I'd love to, but I can't,' she said. 'I've got a meeting.'
Casey held out her hand. Sales took it and she bent over and kissed him on the cheek.
'Thank you, Donald,' she said.
'What for?' he said brusquely. 'Kidnapping you, or being a stellar client?'
It had taken several weeks for the media storm surrounding Lipton's death to subside. But during that time many months ago, Casey had worked assiduously to convince the district attorney that he would be best served by dropping any and all charges against Donald Sales. Bob Bolinger had been instrumental in her efforts. And although it was certainly unorthodox for a cop to help prove someone innocent, Bolinger privately told his friends that it was no more unorthodox than letting James Unger take all the credit for bringing down Lipton.
After she'd secured Sales's freedom, Casey had turned all her energies toward getting a mistrial declared for Catalina. Using every contact she'd ever made, she accelerated the appeal, got the new trial, and even succeeded in sullying Van Rawlins's reputation by having him removed from the case.
'Both,' Casey replied now, backing away. 'You changed my life.'
'For the better?'
'I think so,' she told him. 'I don't know… I hope so'
Casey got back into her car and went to the better side of town. A valet parked her car for her, and she walked in through the etched glass doors, searching for the best table in the house. He would be waiting for her there. She saw his familiar smile and waved cheerily herself as she glided through the busy place, drawing the attention of every man who was unaccompanied by a woman and even some who were. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a friend at the bar to whom she gave a discreet little nod.
Sitting gracefully, she met Taylor's smile by flashing her own perfect teeth. He rose from the table, took her hand, and kissed it gently.
'You look radiant,' he told her. 'You look absolutely stunning.'
'I feel good,' she told him, sitting down across from him and picking up the wine list. Taylor, dressed to perfection himself in a navy blue windowpane suit, gazed appreciatively at her while she perused the selection. A tall, trim waiter appeared in a bone jacket and black bow tie.
'A bottle of the Iron Horse brut,' she told him.
'Very good,' he said, taking the list with a questioning look at Taylor.
'How about some Dom?' her husband suggested.
'No,' she said with a close-lipped smile. 'Iron Horse is every bit as good, just a little less expensive.'
Taylor chuckled at the thought and asked, 'Why the champagne?'
'Oh, two things,' she said perkily. 'First, I won a huge case…'
'Excellent!' he said enthusiastically.
The waiter arrived with the wine and opened the bottle, which she told him to simply pour.
'Second,' she said, raising her glass, 'because today is a new beginning.'
They touched glasses softly, and each of them sipped their wine delicately.
'It is good,' he said. 'And I'm glad you feel like today is a new beginning. I think that's what it should be. I think that's how we should approach things, Casey. We need to forget the past and move forward like we were meeting almost for the first time.'
