"Hi, Rhonda. Is Donna here?"
"She's freshening up."
Peter noticed that Rhonda looked as though she was getting ready to go out.
"What's up?"
"Donna's moving back to her folks' house. I was going to drive her."
"I'll do it. I have some stuff I have to go over with her about the trial."
"Okay. How is the trial going?"
Peter stopped smiling. "Not good," he said.
The bathroom door opened and Donna walked out.
She looked surprised to see Peter. Then, the look of surprise changed to a welcoming smile.
"Rhonda tells me you're going to your folks."
Donna sobered. "I'm sick of hiding. I didn't do anything wrong. Steve did. My brother is on trial for his life and Steve is not going to keep me from being in court to support him."
"Are you going to tell your folks what happened?" Peter asked.
"Yes. I've decided that I have no reason to feel ashamed."
"Good for you. If you want me to, I'll take you to the farm. I can fill you in on the case while we're driving."
in Donna hugged Rhonda and thanked her for putting i her up.
"What happened at the hospital?" Donna asked as soon as they were on the road. Peter recounted Booth's testimony.
"Do you think the jurors believed him?"
"I don't know. What scares me is that he seemed to be telling the truth. And he was so pathetic." Peter shook his head. "The poor bastard could hardly talk."
"Didn't your investigator find anything you could use against Booth?"
"Pullen has been a disaster."
"I thought he was supposed to be good."
"That's what Steve said, but I haven't seen any evidence of it. I can never find the guy. His reports are useless. The few times I have gotten in touch with him, he's been working at his brother's body shop instead of rking on the case."
wa -why don't you fire him and hire someone new?"
"It's too late. We're in the middle of the trial."
The road to the Harmon farm followed the river. It was a pretty stretch lined with elm and maple trees.
Donna had lapsed silence so Peter rolled down the driver's window and enjoyed the rich summer air until she said, "I have an idea. I've lived in Whitaker my whole life. I know a lot of people here. Why don't you let me help with the investigation?"
"What?"
"I know I can do it. If .. . we do go to a penalty phase, I can line up a million witnesses with good things to say about Gary. It would take another investigator weeks to make up a list of people I could remember in an afternoon."
"You've never done any investigation, Donna. You wouldn't know how to go about it. You need a police background or training."
"Barney Pullen has a police background. How much good has he done for Gary?"
"It wouldn't work."
"Maybe not, but I can't do worse than Pullen, from what you've said, and I might do a hell of a lot better.
At least you'd know I wasn't going to quit on you."
Peter dropped Donna off at the Harmons' and headed back to town. During the drive, he thought over Donna's offer to act as his investigator. She meant well, but she had no experience and he needed someone who knew what he was doing. One thing g she said had made in sense, though. If Gary was convicted, the penalty phase would start after a short break. In the penalty phase, the defense told the defendant's life story to humanize him.
Donna would not only know what people would be of use at trial, but those people would trust her and talk to her.
The phone was ringing when Peter walked in the door of his house. He answered on the third ring.
"Is this Peter Hale, the lawyer who's defending that guy who's supposed to have killed the girl in the park?"
"Right. Who's this?"
"Zack Howell. I'm a student. I go to Whitaker."
"What's up, Zack?"
"I, uh, read the ad. The one you put in the Clarion asking anyone who was near Wishing Well Park when Sandy Whiley was murdered to call you."
Yes?"
"Well, uh, I didn't want to call, at first. But the guy is charged with murder. So, I talked it over with Jessie, my girlfriend, and she said we had to call."
"You were near the park on the evening of the murder?"
"Yeah, we were."
Chapter TWENTY-THREE.
After talking to Zack Howell, Peter called Barney Pullen's house. A woman answered and told him that Pullen wasn't in. Peter left a message for the investigator, telling him to bring his reports to the courthouse at eight o'clock the next morning.
Peter was in front of the courthouse at eight sharp. At eight-twenty, Pullen showed up, looking annoyed.
"You're late," Peter said.
"Sorry," Pullen mumbled, but it was obvious that he didn't mean it.
"Where are your reports?"
"I haven't found a lot of useful stuff yet, Mr. Hale," Pullen said, handing Peter a thin stack of paper, "but I think I'm close to some good information."
Peter thumbed through the reports quickly, because there was so little to read. He was stunned at first, then furious. When he looked up at Pullen, the investigator would not meet his eye.
"I can't believe this is everything you've done."
Pullen shrugged.
"Have you walked off the distances between the Stallion, the Ponderosa and Gary's house, like I asked? I don't see a report on it in here."
"I haven't had a chance to get to it, yet."
"I asked you to do that weeks ago."
"Yeah, I know. I was going to do that on the weekend, but something came up."
"What was that, Barney?"
Pullen looked very uncomfortable. "I promised my ke his kid fishing. I thought I'd have plenty brother I'd to of time to walk off the distances when we got back to town, but in y car broke down. By the time I fixed it and got the kid back to his folks, I-was beat. I should be able to get to it today."
"Barney, this isn't working out."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I'm getting someone else to take over the investigation. I just don't think you're doing a professional job and there's too much at stake."
"What are you talking about? I've been busting my ass on this case."
"We've got a difference of opinion on that. Send me a bill for your time. I've got to get to court.
A reporter from the Clarion spotted Donna and her parents in the corridor outside judge Kuffel's courtroom.
Before they could get inside, the reporter cornered Jesse and asked him for a comment. While II er father talked to the reporter, Donna took a step back, hoping she would be left alone.
"Hi, Donna."
She turned. Steve was standing next to her. Her breath caught and fear froze her.
"I have an appearance in judge Staley's court. I was heading there when I saw you."
"I don't want to talk to you, Steve. Please go away."
"You have every right to be angry. I just wanted to w you're doin find out ho 9.
"I'm doing fine, now that you can't hit me."
Mancini looked down. He seemed contrite.
"You don't deserve what I did. I'm ... I don't know what I am. But I know that I love you and I want our marriage to work. I'm willing to go to counseling, if you think that's what I need."
"I don't trust you, Steve, and this isn't the time."
"I understand. I don't expect you to come back to me right away, but I want you to know that I still love you very much and I feel sick about what I've done to our marriage. I just want to know if we have a chance."
"I don't know if we do," Donna answered firmly.
Jesse Harmon turned away from the reporter and saw Steve. He flushed with anger and took a step forward.
Donna put a hand on his arm, "It's all right, Dad."
Jesse glowered at Mancini, but held his tongue.
"Now isn't a good time," Donna told Steve.
"Will you at least agree to talk this over."