carbs followed by spumoni ice cream.
Most of the dinner conversation focused on the trial. Kendra wanted to
know how I thought it was going and what it meant that Lopez hadn't
been tougher on her. I tried not to get her hopes up, explaining that
the defense attorney appeared to be going through the motions so that
Derringer got a fair trial. I didn't voice my growing anxiety that
Lopez was hiding something up her sleeve.
"Well, I don't think there's anything fair about it. He gets to sit
there and glare at me while I have to talk to a bunch of old people I
don't know about what he did. It was really embarrassing for me, and
then he doesn't have to get up there at all. He just gets his fair
trial? What about mine?"
I wasn't going to try to defend the system on this one. "You're right,
kiddo. The rules aren't always fair. But you're playing by them, and
I think things are going well. You did a great job today. I think
those old people who don't know you did know that you were telling the
truth."
Kendra held my eye for a moment, but then turned her attention to
playing with her water glass. I was grateful when the waiter broke the
awkward silence to top off our coffees.
When he left, the silence returned, and Grace invited Kendra out to the
dock behind the Spaghetti Factory to look at boats. I considered
proposing that I take Kendra instead; I'd been wavering about whether
to broach the subject of her renewed contact with Haley Jameson,
despite my warning.
I thought better of it, remembering the summer that our fathers forbade
Grace and me from hanging around the school who recake Left to our own
devices, we would have tired of her in a couple of weeks. But parental
pressure backed us into a corner and we were stuck with helium heels
for months. Plus, right now Kendra saw me as part of a system that was
treating her unfairly. A walk with Grace could be just what she
needed.
So I let my opportunity to talk to Kendra alone slip by and volunteered
to wait around for the bill. Chuck offered to keep me company.
Once Grace and Kendra were out of earshot, he spoke up. "Hey,
something came up at work today, and I wanted you to hear it from me
and not from the news. It's probably nothing, but I know what the
media are going to do with it. And that's going to bring up some stuff
that's been bothering me already."
"Just tell me. What is it?"
"I guess the Oregonian received an anonymous letter today from someone
trying to exonerate Landry and Taylor. Whoever wrote it claimed to
have killed Jamie Zimmerman."
"Jesus. Where the hell's that coming from?"
"Some crackpot. Who knows? Could just be someone who wants attention,
like those people who turn up and claim to be serial killers. Given
the politics around here, it could be some nut job against the death
penalty. Someone trying to make a point, now that it looks like the
state might actually move on some of these death sentences. All I know
is it's bullshit."
"And I think people will see it the same way. It's going to take a lot
more than some anonymous letter to a newspaper to reverse those
convictions."
"Honestly? I'm not even worried about the conviction. I went through
this crap already a few years ago. Landry's attorney tried to make me
out to be some rough rider, framing an innocent old lady to help my own
career. It made me sick to my stomach when the best way to make the
case was for that prick O'Donnell to argue to the jury that I didn't
need to frame people, I could just milk my daddy's name to the top of
the department."
I had never considered how rough the publicity from the Zimmerman case
must have been on Chuck. And now it looked as if he was going to have
to go through it all over again.
"I assume the department's investigating the letter?"
"Yeah, at the highest levels. The Chief met with your boss today, and
they decided to assign Walker and Johnson, since they know the details
of the original Zimmerman case. But Mike and I are off."
"I'm afraid to ask why."
"Like you need to ask why, Sam? Shit!" A family next to us turned
their heads at the noise of Chuck's raised voice and his slap against
the tabletop. He nodded at them and tried to whisper. "They obviously
think that if anything went wrong in that investigation, it had to do
with me. And Mike's my partner. So we're off, and I'm going to be the
center of everybody's fucking conspiracy theory again."
There were actually good reasons for segregating Chuck from the
investigation, even if the DA and the Chief were convinced as I was
sure they were of the truth. But, for the second time tonight, I
thought better of trying to defend the way things sometimes work.
"Chuck, I'm so sorry. Look, you know Ray and Jack are on your side
here. They are not going to set you up. You know how much they
believe in that case. Remember? I thought Walker was going to climax
talking about Taylor's lethal injection."
I smiled, and Chuck shared it with me. "No, you're right. If they
were trying to fuck me, they'd assign IA to it or bring in the Justice
Department. Yeah, Walker and Johnson will handle it right."
It was quiet for a while. "Man, Sam, I've been stewing about this for
hours, and you manage to calm me down. How do you do that?"
"You give me too much credit. You're not taking into account all those
times when I'm the one who can rile you up like no one else."
I paid the bill, and we went out to meet Grace and Kendra. "OK, guys,
it's probably time we called it a night." I put my arm around Kendra.
"This chi ca got school mafiana."
She didn't look too happy about that one. But we finally managed to
get her into Grace's car. Once again, Grace was a lifesaver. The last
thing I needed was an hour-long car ride.
Chuck and I made small talk about Kendra while he walked me to my car.
I could tell he wasn't ready to be alone,
so it didn't surprise me when he asked if I wanted to catch a movie.
I looked at my watch. "Can't. Vinnie awaits, you know. Piss him off,
and he seems to forget about his doggy door. Never know what I might
find on my rugs."
I think he actually tried to hide his disappointment, but he looked
worse than Vinnie does when I take away his Gumby baby. I caved.
"Why don't we rent something? Vinnie'd probably like to see you. But
I get to pick."
He countered with his own conditions. "No subtitles. No cartoons."
Hard bargain, but it was a deal.
A warning to the wise. Don't rent one of those
friends-who-fall-in-love movies with an old lover you've sworn off as