“There’s no such thing as absolute safety. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that.”
She looked at the audience again. “But we can do better. We must do better. For our communities. For our kids. For the America they will inherit. If you feel the same way I do, help us get there. Help us build the America of our dreams. It can be done. And it will be done. If all of us, together, are willing to work for it.”
She bowed her head.
“Thank you.”
“See?” Caitlin said, grinning, as Michelle walked her back to their table. “I told you I know how to do this shit.”
Chapter Fifteen
Danny’s hearing was today.
She forgot about that for a while, during yoga. That was one of the reasons she liked yoga, because she could get out of her own head. “Breathe. Breathe.” And sweat. Take her body to the edge and then pull back. And this was yoga on the beach, just Michelle, Caitlin and their instructor, feet in the sand, waves pounding in front of them, seagulls and pelicans wheeling in the late morning sky.
She was fine as long as she was moving.
But as soon as they lay down on the packed sand for Corpse Pose at the end of the session, the point where you were supposed to completely relax, sink into the earth and feel nothing, the thought snaked back.
Danny’s hearing was in an hour.
Why am I even worrying about it? she thought. Derek could produce letters from half of Humboldt County saying what a great guy Danny was, how much he’d contributed to the community, it wasn’t going to make any difference.
They weren’t going to let him out.
“That was really fun,” Caitlin said, as they scuffed up the beach to the bike path.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Michelle said.
“I did. I mean, you know, I used to work out. Do Zumba.” She snorted, like the whole notion was too absurd to contemplate. “I need to get back in the habit of doing this kind of thing.”
The reasons she’d stopped, the great fracture in her life, seemed to yawn in the air between them.
“Is there anything in particular you’d like to do today? Anything… anything I can do?”
“I don’t know. Find us a place for lunch, I guess.”
They paused at the bike path, waiting for a pair of roller-bladers and a family on rented beach cruisers to pass by.
“Oh, and why don’t you see if you can get a hold of that man from, what was it, PCA? The one we met last night.”
“Troy Stone?”
“Yeah. Might as well see if he’s available. Since he wanted to meet with me.”
Caitlin said this casually, but Michelle had a feeling she’d been giving the matter some thought.
Why would Caitlin want to meet with Troy Stone? Was she really interested in what he had to say, when they’d “been playing opposite ends of the field”? By that Michelle figured he was a supporter of the two propositions on the ballot here, to legalize pot and reduce prison sentences for non-violent crimes. The propositions Safer America was raising money to defeat.
We’re going to look for answers everywhere, Caitlin had said last night.
Michelle hadn’t thought she’d meant it.
After seeing the way Caitlin had performed, seeing Caitlin’s acknowledgment after her speech that it had in fact been a performance…
What did Caitlin really want? Who was she, underneath the performance, underneath the role of tragic victim?
You can’t trust her, Michelle told herself. For all you know, she might be part of Gary’s game.
“Well, it’s not good news.”
“I didn’t expect any.”
Why lie?
“Emily, this is far from over,” Derek said.
“Just tell me what happened.”
She’d slipped outside the hotel and powered up her Emily phone while Caitlin was finishing up a spa treatment before their lunch. Walked to where the sand was deep and powdered and checked for a signal-cell service had always been spotty around here.
Hardly anyone hung out on this middle part of the beach. Most people went down closer to the water, where the sand was packed, or stayed on the boardwalk.
“They denied bail.”
“You were expecting something different?”
“To be honest? No. For whatever reason they’ve really got a hard-on for Jeff. The judge might as well be taking dictation from the prosecution.”
She could feel the rage and panic rising up from her gut, taste the acid bile in her throat. She wanted to scream.
Instead she said, “So. Tell me. How is this ‘far from over’?”
“Well, there’s no trial date yet. They say they need more time to prepare their case.”
“And that’s good?”
“For us, yes. If they hadn’t delayed, I’d be doing it myself.”
“Why?”
A moment of silence. Michelle stared at the shoreline.
Was that a dolphin, surfing in the waves? She’d have to get closer to be sure.
“I don’t think they want this to go to trial,” Derek finally said. “I think they want to make a deal. They’re making things rough on Jeff, threatening a long sentence, denying bail, to increase the pressure so he’ll take it.”
A deal? Was that even possible, with Gary pulling the strings?
“What kind of deal?”
“Well, there’s no way to be sure. No one’s put anything on the table, yet. But typically, they’ll want any information Jeff could provide on the other players involved here. If they can roll up a couple of bigger fish, that might be enough for Jeff to walk. Or at least get a lesser sentence.”
How does this make sense? Michelle wanted to ask. There was no way Gary was going to let Danny go if he informed on Bobby and whoever it was who’d bought his cargo. Those people weren’t worth anything. Not to Gary.
And the last thing that Gary would want was for Danny to really start talking. About what he knew. About the things he’d done.
She tried to think it through.
Maybe Gary could set Danny up. But maybe he couldn’t control what happened after that. Maybe the prosecutors were honest actors, in their own way. Maybe they’d be willing to cut some kind of deal.
She wanted to believe that. But she really didn’t.
“You know Jeff,” she said. “Not that I think he did anything wrong, but… he really values loyalty. So… this whole idea that he’d, well, betray other people, if he had any knowledge like that…”
“I do know,” Derek said. “But I’m telling you, it may be our best option. And I might need you to convince Jeff of that.”
Like she had that power. When had Danny ever listened to her?
“Because look, Emily, realistically… you’re one of the points where they can apply pressure. It’s only a matter of time before they do.”
“I’ll talk to him,” she said.
Troy Stone was available to meet later that afternoon.
“I’m in Venice,” he’d said. “So easy for you to get to. How about Hal’s on Abbot Kinney? They have valet parking.”
“Do you think… is it safe for us to walk down?” Caitlin asked.
The question took Michelle by surprise. “Sure,” she said. “It’s a nice walk. People come here from all over the world.”
“I hate arriving places all in a sweat. But it’s not too hot. And the breeze is nice. I just thought…” Caitlin hesitated. Her cheeks reddened. “I need to start getting out more. And it’s a pretty day.”
So they walked. It was a pretty day. Most of them were, here. One thing Michelle supposed she missed. The sky was that slightly desiccated blue, with high, wispy clouds; you could follow the quiet roar of the low waves as they rolled across the long, flat beach, heading up the coast, like some kind of stereo demonstration. Her parents had an old vinyl LP like that, with airplane and train sounds. She and Maggie played it incessantly when they were little kids.