I was worried. I'd prepped her, but the trial would be her first
face-to-face with Derringer since the assault, and I suspected that she
had no idea of what was coming. I'd advised her that Lisa Lopez would
cross-examine her. She knew that Lopez undoubtedly would ask her about
her drug use and prostitution. We ran through a mock cross together,
but I couldn't bring myself to get rough with her on the issues of drug
use and promiscuity. I was hoping Lisa would pull her punches on these
issues. If she did hit Kendra hard, the jury might hold it against the
defense.
I gave Kendra's arm a little squeeze and said goodbye. 'You take it
easy this week, OK? You're going to be fine.' Grace was going to give
Kendra a ride home, but first they were going to make a stop at
Lockworks, Grace's salon.
It would be good for Kendra to see other women in careers more
satisfying than her mother's, and Grace has all the stuff good role
models are made of. She graduated magna cum laude with a business
degree from the University of Oregon. About two years into a marketing
job with a big company in town, she foresaw that Portland was
attracting a more cosmopolitan population than the city was capable of
servicing. She had been cutting her friends' hair since high school,
she had a great mind for business, her taste had always been
impeccable, and people had always been drawn to her. She took out a
loan, bought part of an old warehouse, and opened Lockworks in the
Pearl District. She lured the best stylists in the city by offering
them good benefits and a piece of the profits, and used her contacts to
recruit customers while she went to cosmetology school at night.
Lockworks is now the swankiest salon in town, and customers wait weeks
to get an appointment with Grace. Luckily, she still cuts my hair like
she did in high school, in her kitchen while we eat raw cookie dough.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, I noticed the cell phone dad
leaving, too. Except he still didn't have anyone with him. And he was
driving a brown Toyota Tercel. Did they let dads drive those things?
As he left the lot, I dug through my purse for a piece of paper.
Normally my bag's full of old receipts, but I'd just cleaned it out. I
pulled out the edge of a dollar from my wallet and scribbled down the
guy's plate number before I lost sight of him. Maybe I'd run it later
to make sure he wasn't a fugitive pedophile.
I had just enough time to drive back downtown to make the meeting I'd
scheduled with MCT. Immediately before a trial, I like to get the
principal investigators together to run through all the evidence and
review what we can expect from the defense. It was a practice I'd
followed in the federal system, where the agents support the case all
the way through the trial. Unfortunately, the local police are so busy
that it's hard to get investigative time on a case once it's been
indicted by the grand jury.
Lisa had given me a copy of her witness list just a few days ago. In
an ideal world, I would have asked the police to interview each of the
potential defense witnesses so we could lock in what they might say at
trial. All I was hoping for in the real world was an idea of who each
person was. From there, I would have to guess what the purpose of
their testimony would be.
I had finally broken down and bought a cell phone, and I
was still in that phase every new cell phone owner goes through,
finding reasons to use my fancy new gadget. On my way to central
precinct, I called MCT to make sure everyone was assembled as
planned.
It took awhile for an answer. 'Walker.'
I had to raise my voice to be sure he heard me over all of the whooping
and hollering in the background. 'Detective Walker, it's Samantha
Kincaid. I just wanted to make sure we're still on for today. Any
news?'
'Hell, yeah, we've got news. Haven't you heard?'
I obviously hadn't, so he continued. 'Oregon Supreme Court ruled in a
special session this morning that the State can stick the big needle to
Jesse Taylor. I wouldn't have thought those libs had it in them, but
we're finally gonna have an execution around here.'
I said something about the state court being just the beginning. Even
though Taylor had waived appeals, his prior attorneys would still try
to go to federal court on their claim that Taylor was incompetent to
fire them and waive his rights. But, as the words came out, I could
think only of Chuck, having to nod politely as the rest of the guys
celebrated the ruling that brought a man he had investigated one step
closer to state-sanctioned death.
It probably didn't help that this was the case that got Chuck onto MCT.
After Margaret Landry confessed to Forbes, the police brought in MCT,
but Chuck stayed involved in the investigation. They must've liked
him, because they added him to the team about a year later.
At least he didn't need to worry about whether the police got the wrong
man. And it wasn't as if the defendant was possibly a redeemable guy
who made a split-second mistake during some robbery-gone-bad. Both
Taylor and Landry were unrepentant sadists. When Landry finally
confessed to Forbes, she admitted that she and Taylor wanted to find a
woman for a three-way. Taylor went to a biker bar and picked up Jamie
Zimmerman, whom Landry described as 'a 'tard of some sort, but a hot
