Trial Junkies Read online

  "Objection," Waverly said, getting to her feet this time. "I think we can all see where this is going, Your Honor, and I doubt very seriously that there's any significant correlation between the frequency of phone calls and the caller's emotional state. Any testimony of that nature would be purely speculative and highly prejudicial, especially in light of the fact that Detective Meyer is neither a mind reader nor an expert in psychology."

  "Sustained," the judge said immediately.

  Waverly gave Abernathy a tight smile, then sat back down.

  It was a good move, Hutch thought, if a little late. It was obvious that the prosecutor was hoping to establish that Ronnie had grown more and more frantic in the days just prior to the murder, and while the logic didn't necessarily connect, that thought had already been planted in the minds of the jury. Had Waverly jumped in a handful of seconds earlier, she may have prevented this from happening.

  It suddenly occurred to Hutch just how crucial the timing was in a trial of this kind. A tiny mistake like this could change the whole dynamic of the beast, and he hoped Waverly would be a little quicker on her feet in the future.

  He and Matt exchanged a look and he knew that Matt was thinking the same thing.

  They waited for Abernathy to continue, but the ADA glanced at his watch and said, "Your Honor, it'll be a while before I'm finished with this witness and I'm thinking now may be a good time to break for lunch."

  Of course it would, Hutch thought. Leave the jurors mulling over those phone calls as they eat their Big Macs.

  "You read my mind," Judge O'Donnell said, then turned to the jury. "Ladies and gentlemen, I want to remind you that you're not to discuss this case with anyone, including each other. You're also reminded not to read any newspapers or watch any news programs during the lunch hour. And I expect you all to be back in your seats and ready to proceed by one-thirty this afternoon. Understood?"

  The jurors nodded, several saying, "Yes, Your Honor."

  "Good," O'Donnell said. "We're adjourned for lunch."

  — 22 -

  "Mind if we join you? Or is this table pro-defense only?"

  Hutch looked up, surprised to see Monica Clawson and Tom Brandt approaching their booth. He, Matt and Andy had taken one that faced the entrance of a crowded bar and grill called The Jury Box, which was located about a block from the courthouse. Matt had suggested the place, and Hutch figured it would be a nice change from his usual vending machine sandwich.

  Over the last several days he had been reluctant to venture outside the courthouse at lunchtime, for fear he'd be hounded by aggressive reporters and their video cameras. But to his surprise-and relief-their interest in him seemed to have waned. He wasn't sure why, but figured there must be some other poor fool, much higher on the celebrity food chain than him, who had gotten himself in trouble and would be dominating the news tonight.

  Probably some human train wreck vying for a reality show.

  The Jury Box was nothing more than a glorified hamburger joint, but its close proximity to the courthouse-and its name, no doubt-made it the lunchtime hotspot for attorneys, trial watchers, jurors and even judges. With their booth facing the door, Hutch saw several people from the courtroom wander in, searching for a place to sit, but had somehow missed Tom and Monica.

  "We promise not to bite," Monica continued, then smiled. "Unless you want us to."

  "Speak for yourself," Tom said.

  Andy, who was staring openly at Monica's chest, patted the spot next to him. "I've got no problem with it. Have a seat."

  Matt didn't seemed too thrilled by this intrusion, but they had plenty of room and he said nothing as Monica slid in next to Andy, and Tom took the spot next to Hutch.

  "When did you guys get here?" Hutch asked. "I didn't see you in the courtroom."

  "We couldn't find a seat," Monica said. "Place was packed."

  Andy's eyebrows went up. "And you stuck around anyway?"

  "We hit a couple museums to kill some time. Figured we might be able to squeeze in after lunch." She looked at Hutch. "So is it true? You're back on Ronnie's team?"

  "How did you know?"

  Tom said, "We saw the three of you coming out of the courthouse together, so we figured you'd had a change of heart."

  Hutch nodded.

  "Mind telling us why?"

  "Mostly because of Matt here," Hutch said. "He's seen the police reports first hand and the evidence is largely circumstantial and doesn't really hold up. But I think what really sealed the deal is when I realized how much of what the prosecution has been doing over the last four months is nothing but crass PR."

  "What do you mean?" Monica asked.

  "Think about it. It's as if they've been running a political campaign rather than looking for justice. Leaking just enough information to pique our interest, but always in control of the message. They painted the picture of Ronnie they wanted us to see and the media gobbled it whole like the careless bastards they are." He looked at Matt. "No offense."

  Matt shook his head. "None taken."

  "So," Hutch went on, "I had to step past all that and realize that, at her core, Ronnie will always be Ronnie and she just isn't capable of doing what was done to Jenny."

  Andy nodded agreement. "She may be nuts, but she isn't that nuts."

  They all looked at him.

  "What? I can't say something nice once in a while?"

  Hutch just shook his head. "Anyway, it's been a bit of a roller coaster, but I'm finally on steady ground."

  Tom smiled. "It's funny, but you aren't the only one riding that roller coaster. You've pretty much summed up exactly the way we've been feeling."

  Matt looked surprised. "Seriously?"

  Monica said, "Do you know how many meals we've shared with Ronnie. How many times we've laughed together? Cried? So what if we haven't seen each other in a few years? She's still Ronnie and God knows she's never judged me." She paused. "I'm ashamed I ever doubted her."

  They sat in silence a moment, then Hutch said, "So we're all in agreement now? That she didn't kill Jenny?"

  Nods around the table.

  "So then the question remains," he said. "Who the hell did?"

  — 23 -

  They spent the entire meal contemplating the question.

  Hutch told them how he had sat in the courtroom, looking around at the faces of the spectators in the gallery, wondering if any of them could be the culprit-as Waverly had suggested.

  The idea seemed pretty ludicrous on its surface, but it was an intriguing one.

  Monica said, "I think Ronnie may have been right. That this was a random murder. Some slasher who saw Jenny and killed her to get his rocks off."

  "Which makes it unlikely he'd be in the courtroom," Tom said. "Why would he bother?"

  "Why else?" she snorted. "To get his rocks off again. Relive the moment. Trust me, I've been running a cam girls website long enough to see some pretty screwed up people."

  They all thought about that, then Hutch said, "That's only one of the possibilities. Do any of you know if Jenny had any enemies?"

  Matt shook his head. "Not that I can think of. But we weren't exactly bosom buddies anymore. What about you, Andy? You were probably the last one of us to talk to her."

  Andy looked surprised. "You know about that?"

  "Ronnie told us. Said Jenny told her."

  "That was a few months back. But it was just a phone call. I was trying to see if she knew how to get hold of Hutch."

  "You sure it wasn't more than that?"

  Andy frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Nothing," Matt said. "It's not important."

  "Well you sure as hell meant something by it. So why don't you illuminate us?"

  Matt suddenly looked uncomfortable. "It was just a stupid joke. I know you always had a thing for her, so…"

  Andy's face reddened. "So… what? Now all of a sudden I'm a suspect?"

  "That's not what I meant."

  "Then why even bothe
r bringing it up?"

  Matt seemed at a loss for words, but Andy was all too happy to supply them.

  "I get it," he said. "Sweet little Ronnie can't be the bad guy, but that Andy, he's got killer written all over him, right? Jesus Christ, Matt, I thought we were friends."

  Remembering his own suspicions-and not feeling good about it-Hutch held his hands up. "Take it easy, man, nobody thinks you're-"

  "Excuse me, I gotta take a leak."

  Andy gestured and Monica slipped out of the booth. Everyone was silent as he stepped past her and headed across the room toward a sign marked RESTROOMS. Hutch could tell by his walk that he was too pissed off for words.

  And who could blame him?

  Hutch looked at Matt. "Aren't you gonna go apologize?"

  Matt shrugged. "For what? I never said I thought he killed her. That's just Andy getting his back up like he always does. He'll get over it."

  "You're his best friend, man."

  "Believe me, I'm well aware that. It's a burden I've lived with for years."

  "Fine," Hutch said. "I'll go talk to him."

  Tom got out of his way and he climbed out and crossed the room to a short hallway, heading for a door marked GENTLEMEN. When he got inside, Andy was at the urinal, doing his business.

  Hutch said, "You okay, man?"

  "Me? Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just standing here thinking about who my next victim'll be."

  "Look," Hutch said, "Matt wasn't accusing you of anything."

  "Whatever." He zipped up, flushed, then moved to the sink and started rinsing his hands. "But I want it on record that I'm not the only jerk sitting at that table."

  "Duly noted."

  They were silent as Andy reached for a paper towel, then Hutch said, "By the way, I've been meaning to tell you, I read your script when I was back in L.A."

  Andy turned. "I've been wondering about that. Figured you didn't like it."

  "Actually, it's pretty damn good. I sent it to a friend of mine, a Swedish director who does crime thrillers, looking to break into the American market. I figured it was right up his alley."

  Andy's face lit up. "Seriously? Are you fucking with me?"

  "He's got some juice, so if he likes what he sees you may get lucky."

  "That's fantastic! Jesus."

  "You got talent, man. A lot more than I ever will. Don't ever let anyone tell you different."

  Andy suddenly went quiet. It may have been a trick of the light, but it looked as if he had tears in his eyes. Then he quickly finished drying his hands and held one out, saying, "Thanks, man, I really appreciate this."

  Hutch shook it. "I just call 'em like I see 'em." He paused as a thought occurred. "You have anything against writing for television?"

  "Uh… no. Why would I?"

  "If you want, I can pass the script along to some of the show runners I know, see if it can generate some TV work."

  Andy stood there looking shell shocked.

  "Just be warned," Hutch said. "This business is full of asshats who'll use and abuse you without a second thought."

  "Ha," Andy barked. "That's true of every job I've ever had."

  "Point taken. Now get the hell out of here before people start talking."

  His friend smiled and thanked him again, then headed outside as Hutch stepped over to the urinal and unzipped. He'd had two root beers during lunch and felt as if he were about to burst.

  He stood there ruminating on the simple pleasure of taking a much needed pee, when a toilet flushed and the booth door flew open. A young guy with a crewcut and thick, black-rimmed glasses emerged, stepping toward the sink. Hutch remembered him from the courthouse, one of the trial junkies who regularly sat in on Ronnie's trial. The pasty-looking guy he'd pegged as the creepy next door neighbor.

  He had a large hardback book tucked under his arm, which he shoved into his book bag and set on the counter as he washed his hands with more soap than he needed. He spent a good half minute or so, scrubbing them thoroughly, as Hutch zipped and flushed and waited to use the sink.

  The guy glanced in the mirror, and for a moment, their gazes met. And in that moment, Hutch felt a sudden sense of dread run through him. Outside of a few agents he'd known, this guy had the deadest eyes he'd ever seen. Black and shark-like, magnified by those thick, coke-bottle lenses.

  He quickly looked away, and a moment later the guy was finished and gone.

  It was only then that Hutch realized he'd been holding his breath.

  "You're right," Tom said, "He does look like a creep, but what are you thinking?"

  Hutch was back in the booth now and it seemed that Matt and Andy had kissed and made up. Maybe the good news had done the trick.

  The man with the black glasses was sitting alone at a table across the room, nursing a Pepsi and half a club sandwich as he lost himself in the pages of his book.

  Hutch shrugged. "I'm not really thinking anything. Just making an observation."

  "Maybe we should be putting him on our list of suspects," Monica said. "Along with Andy, of course."

  Matt winced and Andy flicked a middle finger at her. "Nice try, thunder tits, but I'm bulletproof right now."

  "You point that thing at me, McKenna, you better know how to use it."

  "You had your chance back in college. You shoulda let me join one of your little web chats."

  She cupped her breasts and jiggled them at him. "Dream on, buster."

  It was a move Monica was famous for and everyone laughed. Hutch was glad to see that the old college camaraderie had returned, something he doubted the guy with the black glasses had ever experienced. Which, in a way, made Hutch feel sorry for him.

  But then he'd always had a bit of a soft spot for people he saw eating alone. He knew it happened every day-hell, he'd done it enough himself-but there was a kind of inherent loneliness in the act that couldn't be denied.

  That said, the creep didn't seem to be having a problem with it. Looked quite content with his book for company.

  Hutch thought about those dead shark eyes and somewhere in the back of his mind he did exactly what Monica had suggested. Put him on the list with the Businessman, the Battle-Axe, Two-day Stubble, and just about everyone else who sat in that gallery every day.

  He was thinking about this when he realized that the others had moved on with the conversation, and were now talking about Nadine, who remained the only hold out. The one person in the group who still thought Ronnie was guilty.

  "So where is she?" he asked. "She promised me she'd be in the courtroom once the trial started."

  "Busy getting rich," Tom said. "Some big real estate development she's been working on for months. Plus, she couldn't watch the trial even if she wanted to."

  Andy frowned. "Why not?"

  "Because she's a witness for the prosecution."

  — 24 -

  "Witness?" Hutch said. "What the hell did she witness?"

  Tom picked at the crumbs on his plate. "You remember that call she told us about? The one from Ronnie?"

  It took Hutch a moment to retrieve the memory. Then he saw himself huddled with Tom and Nadine in the police station lobby, Nadine telling them about Ronnie's nearly incoherent phone call the day after she ran into Jenny at the Godwyn Theater.

  "They want her to testify about that?"

  Tom nodded. "I guess they think it's relevant. A way of demonstrating Ronnie's frame of mind."

  "Frame of mind? The way Nadine described it, it sounded more like a classic drunk-dialing mishap than anything significant. How did they even find out about it?"

  "How else?" Tom said. "Nadine contacted the detective in charge."

  Matt shook his head in disgust. "What the hell is wrong with her?"

  "She and Jenny were still pretty close," Tom said. "Not like the old days, but I think Jenny was doing some legal work on that big real estate deal. Nadine puts up a good front, but she was pretty busted up by the murder."

  Monica huffed. "Like that's exclusive territory."
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  "Look," Hutch said, feeling the mood shifting. "Let's not forget that Nadine's a friend, too, and she's gonna believe what she wants to believe. I'm not the only one here who knows what that feels like."

  Tom and Monica nodded.

  "But I'll see if I can get hold of her tonight. Try to talk some sense into her."

  "Appeal to her insecurity," Andy said. "She never did like being the odd man out."

  Hutch doubted such an appeal would make much difference. During all those years at college, Nadine had always been very protective of Jenny, played big sister to her-even though Jenny was six months older. When Ronnie and Jenny got into it back then, Nadine would always side with her best friend. So it wasn't much of a surprise that the tradition had carried through to the present.

  Hutch knew that once Nadine took the stand she'd be talking about the volatile history her two friends had shared. But there wasn't really anything to it. Occasional eruptions that had never amounted to much. Nothing more than what they'd just witnessed between Matt and Andy.

  Like most friends, Ronnie and Jenny had fought sometimes. Maybe a little more than usual, but Hutch had never sensed any real animosity between them. And when he and Jenny were alone together, she had never once complained about it.

  To Hutch's mind, Nadine was letting grief distort her memory, and he'd have to do his best to get her thinking straight. Just as Matt had done with him.

  "You think she'll come around?" Monica asked.

  Hutch didn't have an answer.

  The second half of the day was more of the same. Abernathy and Meyer picking up pretty much where they left off, letting everyone know what an efficient and hard-working cop Meyer was.

  The next three and a half hours were a flurry of testimony, objections and sidebars-not as dramatic as what you'd see on a television crime show, but just as compelling in its own way.

  Anyone used to watching those shows would be amazed that a single witness could be on the stand for such a long time. Yet, for Hutch, those three hours rocketed by, playing like some of the most fascinating theater he had ever seen. Maybe he felt this way because there was so much at stake, but whenever he looked at the jurors, he saw that he wasn't alone.