“Did you ever find out who that was?”
Woodrell clenched his jaw. “Not till after. The army told me it was Jared Bell.”
“The army told you that it was Jared?”
“They didn’t have to. I could read between the lines.”
“Was Jared prosecuted?”
He tightened his grip on the hoop in the table, his knuckles whitening. “How could they when he was the only witness and they believed the story he told?”
“What story was that?”
Woodrell’s face twisted, his voice rising, his cheeks shuddering. “He said they were off the base and were kidnapped by the Taliban, that they made him watch while they raped Ali and then blew her brains out. And would have killed him too if they hadn’t been scared off by incoming fire from an Apache helicopter. By the time more troops got there, it was just Jared and my dead baby girl.”
“Was there an autopsy?”
He shook his head, puckering as if to spit, thinking better of it. “They put her in a box and sent her home. All we knew then was that she was killed in combat. I had to fight the army to get the rest of the story. By then it was too late to prove Jared raped her because we had her cremated.”
“What makes you think Jared lied about what happened?”
“His story never made any sense to me. What were they doing off base when they were supposedly kidnapped? When the helicopter showed up, why didn’t the Taliban put a bullet in Jared? And what about Ali’s e-mails? And why did the army stonewall me every time I asked questions? I’ll tell you why! They’re covering up for one of their own. That’s why!”
Woodrell banged his cuffed fists on the table, hanging his head and crying. Alex reached across the table, covering his hands with hers. They stayed like that for a moment, until he gently shook her hands away, straightening and sniffling as tears rolled down his cheeks.
Alex looked at Kalena. “Do you have a tissue?”
Kalena was riveted on Woodrell, Alex’s question bringing her back. “Oh, yeah. Sorry,” she said, digging a tissue from her purse and handing it to Alex.
Alex stood and leaned toward Woodrell, who sat stone still as she patted his face, muttering when she finished.
“I’m sorry.”
“You had a terrible loss and that’s nothing to apologize for. Where do you live, Mathew?” she asked, moving their conversation back to the present.
He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders. “Columbus, Ohio.”
“When did you get to Kansas City?”
“A few days ago.”
“Why did you come here?”
“The army wouldn’t do anything about Ali. I talked to the police at home and they said there was nothing they could do. No one would do anything and Jared was going to get away with murder, which meant it was up to me to do something. I owed that much to my daughter. I’ve been looking for Jared for the last two years. Even hired a private detective until I ran out of money. After he took my last dollar, he told me to set up a Google Alert for Jared’s name, so I did that, and when I saw the newspaper article saying that he’d been arrested, I got in my car.”
“To do what?”
He shrugged. “At first all I wanted to do was talk to him, to somehow make him tell me the truth and admit what he did to Ali. But when I got here, I realized that wouldn’t be enough. I had to make sure he paid. That’s why I went to see the judge handling his case. I wanted to tell him about Ali so he’d be sure Jared didn’t get off on some technicality. But the way Judge West yelled at you and me when he found us waiting for him in his office, I knew he wouldn’t listen. The man was as bad as the army.”
Alex flinched when he mentioned finding her in Judge West’s chambers, stealing a glance at Kalena to see if she picked up on it, uncertain what to make of her blank expression. She sat back in her chair, wrapping it up with as much nonchalance as she could muster, one beat shy of saying “yada, yada, yada.”
“So you robbed the liquor store in order to get arrested so you could deal with Jared on your own?”
Woodrell nodded, his chin down, his gaze fixed on the table.
Alex paused, her palms on the table. There was nothing more to be learned. His only proof that Jared had raped and murdered his daughter was a father’s pain. All she wanted was to get out of there without drawing more attention to herself and Judge West.
“Mathew, I’m very sorry for your loss. I hope you’ll reconsider your decision not to seek counsel. A lawyer may be able to make a good argument about extenuating circumstances that the court could consider at sentencing.”
He looked up at her, his face once again gray and waxy. “I’ve already been sentenced.”
“I’m sure you feel that way. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose-”
“No. You don’t understand. I have end-stage cancer. The doctors give me no more than a few months. I don’t think any lawyer could get me a better deal than that.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alex, Rossi, and Kalena stood on the sidewalk outside the entrance to the jail. The storm had passed, leaving the air damp and chilled, the sky shot through with orange licks painted by the setting sun.
“Well, that was a first for me,” Kalena said.
“Which part?” Rossi asked. “All he wanted was justice for his daughter’s killer. He’s not the first father to want that.”
“You know that’s not what I mean. The army investigated and said there was no case. Woodrell may not like it, but that’s the end of it. A lot of victims’ families get angry when they think the system blew it, but he’s the first I’ve seen that committed a crime so he could get put in jail and take his revenge.”
“What’s he supposed to do?” Rossi asked.
“Live with it,” Kalena said. “The system isn’t perfect, but it’s all we’ve got.”
“What about you, Counselor?” he said to Alex. “Bad guy gets off. What would you do?”
Alex saw the glint of a smile in the corners of Rossi’s mouth and was determined not to let him provoke her the way he had when she ran into him at the Zoo. She pretended she was in court, where the first rule was to never let them see you sweat.
“Like Kalena said, every lawyer knows the system isn’t perfect.”
“Forget you’re a lawyer. Suppose the bad guy kills someone and gets off, and suppose you’re afraid now he’s gonna come after you or someone you love. Would you take a page out of Woodrell’s book?”
Alex turned the question around. “Let’s try it this way. Remember that you’re a cop and the person you thought was guilty was acquitted. Would you respect the verdict or would you keep going after that person?”
They stared at each other, neither giving ground.
“Am I missing something here?” Kalena said. “I was talking about Woodrell. What are you guys talking about?”
Alex looked at Rossi, letting him answer, daring him to tell an assistant prosecuting attorney that he was harassing her.
Rossi shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Yeah,” Alex said. “Just kicking around hypotheticals.”
“Then try this one,” Kalena said. “Jared Bell is convicted-and that’s not the hypothetical part-and I put Woodrell on the stand at sentencing to tell his story. Even if your client wasn’t charged or convicted, Judge West can consider evidence that he raped and murdered Woodrell’s daughter when he imposes sentence.”
“Hypothetically, he could, but it’s not likely. Not when the only evidence is the unsupported allegations of a father so distraught that he robbed a liquor store so he could try to kill my client.”
“Maybe, but you and your client should consider the possibility. And, by the way, what did Judge West say to Woodrell that made him go off?”
Kalena made her question sound more chatty than inquisitive, and Alex matched her tone, not mistaking her purpose, knowing that they hadn’t suddenly become gossiping girlfriends.
“What can I say? Wild Bill was being Wild Bill.”