When he finished, Zack asked for two weeks to let the crime lab process the evidence at Chloe’s apartment and the Larsens’ beach house, “Just to make sure it all jibes.”
The judge glared at him. “Two weeks? So this man can spend more time in custody for crimes he didn’t commit? I’ll give you three days. You either bring in solid proof that Dale Pearson committed these murders by then, or I’m dismissing this case. And in the meantime, I’m setting bail at ten thousand dollars.” He turned to me. “I assume he can make that?”
I’d anticipated the judge might grant bail, so I’d asked Alex to bring his uncle Tomas, the bail bondsman. I looked back at Tomas now, and he nodded. “Yes, he can make that.”
“Very well. You’re all ordered back Thursday morning. Until then, we’ll be in recess.”
When the judge left the bench, Dale and I had a long hug. Our first real one. It felt strange but somehow familiar. The clicking of cameras filled the room. For a change, I’d get to go out and talk to the press without worrying about what I needed to spin.
I stood in front of the courthouse in the thin winter sunshine and answered obvious questions like, “Do you feel vindicated?” (Of course) and “Does Dale plan to sue?” (No comment at this time).
This was better than a hung jury-or even an acquittal. Dale was completely cleared. And the story was huge. By tomorrow morning, there’d be no corner of the country that hadn’t heard it. Dale would never have to deal with the doubts that always lingered around defendants whose convictions got reversed on a “technicality.”
And public opinion had turned on a dime. Now the waving posters touted DALE PEARSON-INNOCENT! and DALE PEARSON, VICTIM OF INJUSTICE! There was even some comic relief: a woman in high heels and a bikini waved a poster reading: DALE PEARSON, WILL YOU MARRY ME?
I took her picture. When I picked Dale up at the jail later that day, I showed it to him. “Just wanted you to know you’ve got a lot of ‘options.’ Even if some of them are a little sketchy.”
He laughed, then he looked up at the sky. “I can’t believe I’m out of that dungeon.” We didn’t talk much on the ride home. Dale spent most of the time staring out the window. When I pulled into his driveway, he sat unmoving for several long moments as he looked at his house. “I didn’t think I’d ever see this place again.”
He pulled on the door handle and tried to push the passenger door open, but it stuck. He had to put his shoulder into it, and when it gave, the old hinges let out a metallic shriek. Dale frowned, then leaned over and checked out the mileage. “Don’t you think it’s time to let this thing go to car heaven?”
I spread my arms across the dashboard. “Do not let Beulah hear you say that. She’ll make me push her home.”
Dale grinned. “My bad. We’ll discuss it later, when she’s not listening. Maybe over dinner? We really should celebrate.”
“I agree. You get settled and we’ll figure it out.”
Dale squeezed my hand and got out. I watched him unlock the door. He turned and waved to me, and I waved back. As I drove away, I realized I didn’t know whether this was a beginning or an end. And I wasn’t sure which one I wanted it to be.
SIXTY-FIVE
The courtroom wasn’t nearly as packed on Thursday morning. The hearing was kind of an anticlimax. No one expected Zack to come up with anything, and he didn’t. Case closed-for Dale.
Edie’s was just beginning. The stray hairs on Paige’s robe and in Chloe’s bedroom were consistent with Edie’s, and the stray prints in Paige’s bedroom matched Edie’s. And an unexpected bonus: they’d found Edie’s prints on the balcony as well. Zack had charged her with two counts of first-degree murder. But even if the jury only went for first degree on Chloe’s murder and gave her a second degree on Paige’s, she’d still wind up doing life without parole.
After the case against Dale was dismissed, we all walked out together.
Dale gave me a broad smile. “Dinner next week?”
I answered with a lot more certainty than I felt. “Absolutely.”
When Dale left, I saw Zack talking to a reporter near the elevators. Aubrey Miles had just been transported to Los Angeles that morning, and it was big news. They’d found his blood and Marc’s at the Malibu house. It’d take a little while longer to finish processing the crime scene, but the writing was on the walclass="underline" Aubrey Miles was going down. The reporter left and Zack waved to me.
I walked over to him. “You going to let Miles plead to a manslaughter?” Zack nodded. I figured as much. “The cops get a statement from him?”
“Such as it was. He claimed it was an accident; they got into a fight, and Marc fell and hit his head. We probably can’t prove otherwise.”
“You think Aubrey knew that Edie did the murders?”
“He says he didn’t. But unless she talks, which I seriously doubt will happen, we’ll never know for sure.” Zack shrugged, then smiled at me. “Anyway, that was some nice work you did finding that surveillance camera. You know, you should join the DA’s office-”
“Couldn’t pass the background check.”
Zack laughed. “No, seriously. You should.”
“No, seriously. I can’t pass the background check.” Plus, just the thought of it made me gag. “But to be honest, Alex was the one who found it.”
Zack nodded. “I hope you finally believe that I had nothing to do with that leak on Jenny Knox’s rape case.”
“Yeah, I do.” I’d never be able to prove it, but I was pretty sure Edie was behind that.
He tilted his head toward the snack bar. “Want to get some coffee?”
“Next time. I’ve got to get moving.”
I had to set up the new office so I could start seeing clients. I’d thought I’d have to work out of my apartment for the next few years to save up money for a new place. But it turned out the one bill Michelle always paid on time was our insurance premium. We wound up with a pretty nice place in West Hollywood. It wasn’t exactly a luxury suite, but it was in a pretty decent neighborhood.
When we found it, Michelle had let out a whoop of victory. “An office that isn’t in Gangsville. I can’t believe it-”
“Aw, come on, Michy, admit it. You’ll miss the bangers, the pitter-patter of little feet as they hunt each other down, the nightly gunfire. The exciting dash to your car at night…”
She’d ignored me. “And we have a security guard.”
I’d given a mock yawn. “Man, it’s gonna be boring.”
In the days that followed, I was busy nearly 24-7. Setting up a new office was a full-time chore.
We got our phone system up and running, and it looked like I was going to score a few new-paying-clients. It helped that the story was still a hot topic with the media. I’d been giving print interviews here and there, but I needed to get into the studio. I wouldn’t be a big ticket forever, and I had to squeeze the last drop out of every chance I got to beef up our business. Sheri’s producers had been blowing up my cell phone for the past week, offering to give me two solo segments with her. It didn’t get much better than that, so I asked Michelle to call the producers and put me on the show today.
But Michelle said I couldn’t do it. “You’ve got a client meeting, and it’s at four o’clock.”
I looked at my calendar. “How come it’s not on the books?”
“I sent you an e-mail. It’d help if you checked it once in a while. Do Sheri’s show on Monday. Believe me, she’ll make it work.”
At four o’clock, I heard Michelle say, “She’s in her office.” A few seconds later, my office door opened and Dale stood at the threshold. He gave me a little smile as he looked around the room. “I like your new digs.”