Abby is there already, on Antoine’s side of the table, her pale face and his dark one staring intently at the screen of his laptop. They both look up and Will smiles, extending his hand.
“Hey, man.” Antoine’s voice is deep and smooth, like a DJ on a jazz station. According to Abby, he’s the best investigator in their office. They had been assigned to someone else, a younger woman named Kim. But Abby had not stood for that, despite Paul saying that he didn’t want to meddle, and, in any event, that all of the investigators in the federal public defender’s office were very good. “Actually, most of them suck and you know it,” Abby had told him. “I want Antoine.”
Rayshon Marbury was the unspoken name in the room; Antoine had been on that case, too. And so Abby had gotten her way, generating a solid dose of ill will in the process. No unit likes to be told what to do when it comes to its own people. But generating ill will did not seem to be a concern for Abby, and Will supposed it would be up to him to make nice later. Let’s hope you’re worth it, he thinks, staring at Antoine’s smooth, impassive face, taking in the black tracksuit, the large blue signet ring on his left hand.
The waitress comes to take their order and Antoine closes the laptop. Antoine and Abby order the chicken teriyaki bowls; Will, who has not even picked up the menu, says he’ll have the same.
“Shauna sent over the juvenile file,” Abby says to Will.
Will tries not to look irritated that she’s obviously shared this fact with Antoine before telling him. “What’s in there?”
“It was a fight at school,” Antoine says. “Luz and another girl. She pulled a knife.”
“The other girl?”
“Luz.”
“Over what?” Will feels like he’s waiting for a diagnosis from a maddeningly terse doctor.
“Confrontation in the bathroom,” Antoine says. “The other girl said that Luz was sleeping with her boyfriend. She was real mad about it. Slapped Luz, pulled her hair, and tried to scratch her face. Luz pulled a knife out of her purse, slashed the girl’s arm.”
“Self-defense?”
“That’s what she told the police officer. But he didn’t buy it and neither did the DA. Not justified by the threat posed is what they said.”
“It probably didn’t help that the victim needed sixteen stitches,” Abby adds.
Antoine shrugs. “Another problem was that she had a knife in her purse to begin with.”
Will says, “Our situation is different.”
“I know,” Abby says, “but the ultimate question is the same. Travis Hollis might have been drunk and overbearing, even threatened her life, but was he such an immediate overwhelming danger that she had no choice but to slice him open?”
The question hangs there a moment and then Will says to Antoine, “Did she go to trial for the school fight?”
“No. Original charge was assault with a deadly weapon. Pled down to simple assault. She got probation, had to pick up some trash on the freeway, did community service at her church. Great result, considering. She must’ve had a good attorney.”
“It was Jorge Estrada, wasn’t it?”
Antoine looks surprised. “That’s right.”
Will looks at Abby. They had discussed Will’s visit and agreed not to probe further. “He’s not going to talk to us, and anyway, we may be better off in the dark,” Abby had pointed out. “Because let’s say we do find out from Estrada that Luz plotted to murder her husband? Then we aren’t going to be able to tell the jury that she didn’t.” Will thought it was unlikely—what lawyer would participate in that kind of plot? But taking the chance seemed too risky and so he had reluctantly agreed. It makes him uneasy, that Estrada had not volunteered this additional information—that his relationship with Luz went back not months, but years.
“She was a minor,” Will says. “Her juvenile case is sealed.”
“I’m sure Shauna will make a motion to try to convince Dars to admit it,” Abby says. “But she’ll lose, the law is clear. The government can’t use juvie records at trial.” She pauses. “Unless Luz somehow opens the door by bringing it up herself, directly or indirectly.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Will says.
“No,” Abby says, “because you’re not going to let it happen, are you?”
This question, too, hangs in the air. Will stares back at her frostily.
Antoine clears his throat. “We were talking about the hard drive from Travis’s computer. We got a copy today from the government. I was telling Abby I think we should do our own analysis.”
Will keeps his eyes on Abby. “To find out what? We know Luz got Jackie’s email about Travis. We know what time she opened it.”
“The government analyzed Luz’s emails,” Antoine says. “They didn’t look at Travis’s. There might be something.”
“What? Another woman?” Will tries to think how a second affair could be helpful and concludes it would not. “And anyway, even if we do find something good in Travis’s emails, why would the judge let it in? A dead man can’t testify that he was the one who wrote it. There’s no foundation, no way to authenticate it.”
“I’m thinking we might have a shot with Dars. Maybe he’ll go out of his way to be fair because I’m there.” Abby smiles sweetly at Will before turning to Antoine. “Will doesn’t think so, though. He and I had a spirited discussion the other day about how Dars’s and my relationship will play out at trial.”
Antoine smiles. “My money’s on you, Abby. My money is always on you.”
“Quit it with the flattery.” But Will can tell by the way that Abby is looking at Antoine that she’s pleased. It’s obvious that Antoine’s opinion matters to her. Will wishes his did.
Will says to Antoine, “That kind of forensic analysis is not going to be cheap.”
“Got a friend. Used to be in military intelligence, now
