That wouldn’t take long. The sheriff’s crime lab had checked the gun for prints and DNA. Nothing matched up to Deshawn. But the video-surveillance footage for the evidence room at LAPD was a no go. The camera had supposedly-and suspiciously-“malfunctioned” sometime during the week before the gun turned up in Deshawn’s car. There was no record of who’d taken the gun out of evidence. So Deshawn would get his dismissal, but Officer Ambrose was off the hook.
“I’ll swing by Twin Towers first to give Dale the news on Jenny. Deshawn’s hearing will take about five minutes, so we’ll have time to hit Paige’s modeling agency afterward. Alex, I’ll need you for that. You can either ride with me or meet me at the agency.”
“I’ll ride with you. Dale and I are bros now.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You and Dale… I guess I’ve seen stranger things.”
“Not lately,” Michelle said.
I’d asked Alex to get to my apartment by seven thirty. Between morning rush hour and the waiting time at the jail, I figured it’d be nine thirty by the time we got to see Dale.
I was close. It was nine forty-five when the guards brought Dale up. He looked pretty good. If it weren’t for the ankle-to-waist chains, I’d almost have said he had a bounce in his step.
I picked up the phone. “That punk-metal thing is really working for you.”
He smiled and studied his handcuffed hand. “I’m thinking of getting some ink while I’m here. Couple of spiderwebs on the neck. Maybe a biceps bracelet.”
“Just no hearts with daggers.”
“Think the jury might take that the wrong way?”
“No, I’m just sick of them. I’m guessing you heard about the dirt we got on Jenny.”
“I did. A couple of guys from the station came by this morning.” He looked at Alex. “Was that you?” Alex nodded. “Nice work, buddy.”
I’d wondered whether he was getting any visitors. “How is that? Seeing them in here?”
Dale looked down at the counter. “It’s good to see them. Not so good to be seen.”
I could only imagine what it must be like to have his cop friends see him this way. “Are you getting any flak from the department?”
Dale shook his head. “And I’ve been finding out that I had more friends on the force than I ever knew.”
I was glad to hear it. “What about in here? The guards treating you okay?”
“Better than okay. I can’t complain. Other than… you know, being hooked up for something I didn’t do.” He gave a brief twist of a smile, then looked closely at me. “How about you? I’ve been worrying about what kind of heat you’re getting.”
“From whom? The public or Celeste?”
He gave me a deadpan look. “I feel pretty confident your mother won’t be sending you death threats.”
“That makes one of us. And she knows where I live.” Dale had a puzzled look on his face, but I didn’t want to tell him I’d cut her off-not with Alex there. I moved on to the news that Zack had decided to take the case to the grand jury. Dale agreed that was for the best. Then I told him about our plans for the day.
“Okay, just be careful. People on the street are going to start recognizing you more and more, so watch out.” He flashed a look at Alex.
Alex nodded. “I’ve got her back.”
I looked at my watch. It was after ten. “I’ve gotta get to court. I should be back tomorrow or the day after to give you an update.” I glanced at Alex. “Or my bodyguard will.”
We headed to the courthouse. I told Alex to park Beulah around the corner and wait for me there. “This won’t take long.”
And it didn’t. I skidded into Judge Raymond’s court with less than a minute to spare. Rita Stump read the crime-lab report into the record, I made my motion to dismiss, and the judge granted it. Officer Ambrose wasn’t there, but the judge told Rita to let Ambrose know he’d been “suspiciously lucky” with that surveillance camera.
When I got downstairs, a reporter I didn’t recognize, a young Asian guy with a nice smile, ran over to me and asked if I had any updates on the case. I hadn’t intended to do a TV spot on the Jenny story, but since it fell into my lap, I figured it couldn’t hurt. I gave him the CliffsNotes version.
When we finished, the reporter-whose name was Kendall-practically kissed my hand.
“I was covering a meeting at City Hall.” He rolled his eyes. “Bo-ring. Edie’s husband, Aubrey, was the only thing that kept me even half-awake. I just decided to jump over here in case anything interesting happened.” Kendall grinned at me. “And I got lucky.”
I’d heard Edie was married to a state assemblyman. “Don’t tell me; let me guess: they were arguing about how to give themselves raises.”
“No, Aubrey’s stumping for the young vote, making a lot of noise about funding for state colleges.”
It might get me some credibility points with the jury pool to be seen shaking hands with someone like that. Edie owed me. I should ask her to set it up. After all, I’d given her the scoop on Dale being my father. But that story was so “ten minutes ago.” I’d need to dangle something new under her nose. “Well, I’m glad I could spice up your day.” I headed for the sidewalk.
“Thank you, Ms. Brinkman!”
I waved over my shoulder. “Call me Sam.” I trotted down the block and found Alex around the corner.
“Want to drive?” he asked.
“You know where Models Inc. is?” He nodded. “Go for it.”
Alex headed for the freeway. “For what it’s worth, Dale’s story about Jenny seems for real to me.”
“Sociopaths-especially the smart ones-can be pretty slick.” I was trying hard to hold on to my objectivity. I couldn’t let my need to believe in him get in the way of the truth. He hadn’t told me about his breakup with Chloe or about the rape charge. There might well be more. Just because Dale’s story about Jenny looked like it was panning out, that didn’t mean he was innocent-of anything. “And Dale has every reason to perform for us. We’re all that’s standing between him and life in prison.”
Though in all honesty, very few clients seemed to get the logic of that. They usually start out mistrustful, and it goes downhill from there. People always think defendants are out to get the prosecutor or the judge. The truth is, your client is the one most likely to really want to wear your skin.
“You’re right.” Alex blew out a breath. “But if you’re worried that he might be gaming you, I just wanted you to know that he’s got me believing, too.”
“Thanks, Alex.” I smiled. “That means he’s good enough to play us both.”
He glanced at me and smiled back. “I guess so.”
Paige’s modeling agency was in Hollywood. The name, Models Inc., had me expecting something sleek and modern. Then I noticed the address.
It was in Tweaker-Junkie-Hooker Central. I’d never expected it to be the Wilhelmina Agency, but when Alex pulled up to the curb, I couldn’t believe it. The place was a dump that looked like it’d been condemned years ago. What few windows I could see were either caked with dirt or covered with cardboard. There was some faint evidence that the door might’ve been red at one time, but now it was just a slab of splinters, and the little window set near the top was so grimy I didn’t want to get close enough to even try and see through it.
Alex turned the knob, then shoved it open with his foot-and rubbed his hand on his jeans. The door opened onto a dark, narrow stairway that stank of mildew and desolation. When I put a hand on the railing along the stairway, it swayed. Our shoes scratched on the bowed, dusty stairs as we hiked up to the second floor.
The agency was one square room, dominated by a desk and an ancient-looking computer. A squat woman wearing heavy makeup and tortoise-framed glasses was typing on it. A few young, unspectacular-looking girls sat in chairs along the wall, under movie promo-size posters of famous models like Cindy Crawford and Gisele Bündchen. The young girls stroked their hair and scrolled on their cell phones. A couple of them glanced at us, then went back to scrolling.