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direction, but I realized I had seen him earlier at one of the other

exhibits and, come to think of it, he'd been alone then too.

I gave Kendra some money to buy us all red-white-and-blue ice pops

shaped like rockets.  As I watched her walk over to the concession

stand, I lowered my voice.  "Don't make it obvious that you're looking,

Grace, but you see that guy by the rain forest?  On the phone?"

She snuck a little peek.  "Sweetie, you do need to get yourself a man

if you're stooping that low."

I looked at the guy again.  "Grace, no.  Yuck.  It's just isn't it a

little weird for a man to be at a zoo by himself?"

"Maybe his family's inside, and he left to make a call."

"I saw him earlier, though, and I think he was alone then too.  It

didn't stand out at the time, but now I think he was looking at us over

by the lions."

"What lions?"  She laughed.

"I'm not kidding, Grace.  Maybe he's a little pervert who's at the zoo

to watch all the kids."

"Or maybe he's just some suburban dad who's trying to keep up with the

office while he's on daddy duty at the zoo, and he was looking at us

because we aren't so hard on the eyes."  She slipped into a Mae West

routine.

"Hey, knock it off.  I'm serious."

"No, Sam, you're paranoid.  You've got crime on the mind, and you're

especially uneasy about Kendra today.  If you're really worried, we can

go say something to security.  Tell them to keep an eye on him."

I thought about it.  "Nah, you're right."  I looked back at the guy. He

was putting his phone away and walking into the rain forest.  "I'm sure

he's harmless."

We polished off the rocket pops and headed toward the polar bears.

Grace and I were entranced, as usual, by Portland's swimming polar

bears, but I noticed that Kendra seemed a little distracted.

"You holding up OK, kiddo?"  I asked.

She looked at me like I'd offered her broccoli, and then spoke

extremely slowly in the event I'd suddenly become extremely stupid.

"Um, yeah.  Unless I'm missing something, the zoo's not exactly a high

stress kind of thing, Samantha."

She was playing tough, but I knew the trial was weighing on her mind at

least as much as on mine.  "Very funny, wiseacre.  Last time I checked,

I was going to be picking a jury tomorrow, and you were scheduled to

testify in a couple days.  Do we need to talk about that?"

"No.  I understand how everything will go.  I'll be OK."

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