“We need some decent counter-spin right now. Who can we put on camera to say good things about you? Cops won’t help; everyone expects them to stick up for you. We need some civilians. Like family, childhood friends, college friends-maybe neighbors? And it’d be a twofer if any of them were women.”
Dale shook his head slowly, looking depressed. “Mom passed away a while ago. Dad’s got dementia. He’s in a nursing home in Phoenix. My sister lives out there, too, but we haven’t spoken in years.”
“Why?” Even as the words left my mouth, I knew it was a question I would never have asked any other client.
He looked away. “Just kind of lost touch. Different lives… she’s not a big fan of the police.” His voice trailed off, and he was silent for a moment. When he finally looked at me, he sighed. “Karen got busted for an illegal grow when she was living up near Sacramento.”
“Did you help her out?”
“I put in a good word for her, but I couldn’t do a whole lot. Sacramento PD doesn’t care much about what an LAPD cop says.”
But it sounded like she’d held it against him anyway. “These are what you might call extenuating circumstances. You don’t think she’d step up?” He shook his head. Too bad-a sister would’ve been a nice touch. And having a bust for growing marijuana would’ve helped us with the young jurors. I finally told him that I’d met Lisa, that she was a great kid and would probably make a good impression. “From what she said, I doubt her mom would be much help, but Lisa’s way in your corner-”
Dale’s eyes flashed and he slapped the counter. “No! I told you already. I won’t have her dragged into this!”
The guard put a hand on his Taser. I shook my head at him and held up a hand. I mouthed, “It’s okay.” I looked at Dale. His face was closed, hard. “Lisa could really help you. But if you’re willing to pay the price-”
He stared directly into my eyes and spoke quietly but with a hint of menace. “I am. Let it go.”
I didn’t have to let him make this call, but I decided I would. Unlike a lot of my other clients, I knew Dale wouldn’t use it against me if he got convicted. And I have to admit, I admired his willingness to make the sacrifice. “What about friends?”
“I didn’t keep in touch. I had a college buddy-Louie D’Angelo-but we lost contact when I got into the police academy.”
“Any old girlfriends?”
Dale had a sad half smile as he shook his head. “Just ex-wives. I hadn’t been on a date in almost fifteen years when I met Chloe.”
Damn. No women, no civilians, so we were screwed on the PR front. And it looked like the only shot we had at an alibi was a fellow cop. I was losing ground fast. I had to wrap up so I could think of a way out of this.
I gave Dale the update on what Alex and I had dug up so far. As I spoke, I could see he was having a hard time focusing. The news about Jenny Knox had really shaken him up. That made two of us. When I finished, I asked Dale if he remembered hearing Paige or Chloe mention a guy named Marc.
“I… no. I don’t.”
Of course not. I stared at him. “You need to think hard about your alibi. Your indictment’s going to come down any day now. When it does, I need-you need me-to be able to say you have an alibi.”
Dale looked at me, his expression forlorn. “I’m sorry, I know this is hell for you, Sam.”
I scanned his face. It radiated nothing but apology and sadness. It was such a great act that even now, I could feel myself getting drawn in by it. And that was the scariest part of all. I hung up the phone and walked out.
THIRTY-FOUR
There was a leaden feeling in my chest as I headed out to the car with Alex. Neither of us spoke. I didn’t want to let my thoughts coalesce. If I did, I’d sink even further.
But I wanted to know what Alex thought. I waited until we got into the car. “Did you believe him?”
He shrugged. “If I didn’t know about the rape charge, I probably would. He really sounds sincere. But now? I don’t know. I’m not sure.”
So even Alex was feeling differently about Dale. I had to find a way to stanch the bleeding or Dale would be DOA by the time we got to trial. I’d gotten onto the 101 Freeway and was heading back to the office when I saw the Warner Bros. water tank towering above the freeway. I remembered we still hadn’t cornered that writer, Geoffrey Brocklin, the guy Chloe had been seeing at some point. I had less hope than ever that he’d do us any good, but I was feeling desperate. He was our last thread to pull with Chloe. And besides, I needed the distraction. I asked Alex if he was up for a fight.
“Hell, yeah. I don’t know if he’s back yet, but it’s worth a try.”
The last time we visited the set, Alex had made a fan of Ramie, the showrunner’s assistant. Now, he called her and found out that Geoff was in the writer’s room. She agreed to get us onto the lot.
When he ended the call, I told him to give Michelle the information we’d gotten from Amaya and let her follow up on Marc Palmer.
“You don’t want me to do that?”
“No. Marc’s a side issue. I need you to move on Dale’s alibi witnesses.”
Alex nodded and pulled out his phone. He looked almost as grim as I felt. As Alex spoke to Michelle, I faced the fact that there were just too many “coincidences” happening around Dale and the women in his life. The truth was, Dale had probably killed them all-Chloe, Paige, and Jenny. And if I could do the math, so could the cops. They were probably already pulling up all the unsolved homicides in every division Dale had worked-which was all over the county. That’s what I would’ve done.
Dale was probably a serial killer. My throat tightened as tears threatened to well up. I forced a deep breath. I couldn’t afford to let this get to me. I was fighting a war on two fronts now that Jenny Knox’s murder was out in the open.
I pulled onto the lot and found a parking space close to the building that housed the writing staff. When Ramie saw us approaching, she smiled and waved. It had nothing to do with me. She was twitterpated with Alex. She walked over to us, then glanced around and whispered to him, “I’ll tell Geoff someone’s waiting for him in the director’s office. You’ll have to take it from there.”
She led us to the office, then went to get Geoffrey Brocklin. I braced myself. Any friend of Chloe’s was bound to be an enemy of ours.
Geoffrey stopped in the doorway and frowned. “Who are you?” His hair was shaggy, his wire-rimmed glasses sat too far down on his nose, and his clothes looked like they’d been slept in.
“I’m Samantha Brinkman and this is my associate, Alex Medrano.” I figured associate sounded better than investigator.
Geoffrey’s eyes widened. “You’re that killer’s lawyer? No fucking way am I talking to you-”
He turned to go. Ordinarily, I would’ve let him. There’s no point in trying to beat down a witness who doesn’t want to talk to you. But I was in an angry mood and more than willing to share it.
“That’s fine. Then here’s how it’s going to go: Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, ask yourselves why Geoffrey Brocklin wouldn’t even give us five minutes to tell him why we thought Dale Pearson might not be the killer? Wouldn’t an innocent man, one who has nothing to hide, want to do all he could to make sure the real murderer is brought to justice? Because we all know the police can get it wrong. We’ve all seen the stories about men and women who spent twenty, thirty years in prison for crimes they didn’t commit. But Geoffrey Brocklin didn’t want to hear it. Because Geoffrey Brocklin knew who did it-and he knew it wasn’t Dale Pear-”
“Are you kidding me? No one’s going to buy that!”
I tilted my head. “You sure? You and Chloe were close. Everyone knows it. So when she dumped you for Dale, you got jealous.” I actually had no idea whether that was true. “And you don’t have an alibi for that night.” I was bluffing about that, too. If I was wrong, he’d call security and we’d be bounced out on our asses. At this point, I didn’t care.