I saw the knife and picked it up in self-defense. What possible reason would I have to hurt Casey or Terri?”
“There are rumors that you and Ms. Van Meter were close. That you were sleeping with her.”
“She was going through a rough patch. Just married. Then she finds out her husband is a petty crook. He was beating her. She turned to me for comfort. It just happened. You know how that is.”
“We heard about your rescue at the pool. That was very brave, considering that you thought he was a mobster.”
“I guess I didn’t think about that. All I knew was that Casey was in trouble. That’s what makes this whole thing ridiculous. Why would I rescue Casey, then turn around and kill her?”
“Maybe you two had a falling out.”
“No. She stayed at my place the night before she died. We were still friends. It makes no sense that I’d kill her.”
“It does if you read your novel. I thought it was really well written, by the way.”
“What does A Tourist in Babylon have to do with what happened in the boathouse?”
“Not Tourist, your new novel.”
“My…?”
“The book you read to Terri and the rest of your writing seminar.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Look, Joshua, you’ve been pretty forthcoming so far. That’s going to go a long way with a judge. So…”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve read the novel, Joshua. That scene you read in the writing seminar sounds a lot like what happened in the Spencer home on the night Ashley’s father and her teenage girlfriend were murdered. The scene was so real that we think Terri went to Dean Van Meter and told her that she suspected you of killing her husband. How did you find out she’d made the connection?”
“That was made up. I’m a writer. The scenes in my books are the product of my imagination.”
“You’re a pretty clever guy, Joshua. You have Tony and me stumped. We can’t figure out how you found out that Terri and Casey were investigating you. Did Casey let it slip?”
“I didn’t know. I…”
“Yes?”
“I want an attorney. This is crazy. My God, how did this happen? How could…? Oh, no.”
“What did you want to say, Joshua?”
“I want a lawyer. I’m not saying another word.”
Delilah turned off the boom box.
“Is that the end of the tape, Detective?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you. I have no further questions for Detective Birch.”
“Mr. Swoboda?” Judge Shimazu asked.
“No.”
“Mr. Maxfield, please retake the stand,” the judge said.
“Mr. Maxfield,” Delilah said, “what happened to the man who ran away, the real killer? How come you didn’t tell Detectives Birch and Marx about him?”
“I don’t know. I was upset. I was in jail. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“I see. Well let me ask you something else. You came in the door of the boathouse, saw the women, both of them were unconscious or dead, you picked up the knife, then saw Ashley in the window?”
“Yes.”
“Just a few seconds inside the boathouse before you saw Ashley?”
“Yes.”
“And both of those women were just lying there?”
“I told you that already.”
Delilah made a note on her legal pad. She was smiling when she looked at the witness.
“Who cried out, Mr. Maxfield?”
“What?”
“You were in court when Ashley Spencer testified, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You heard her say that she heard two screams and went through the woods to the boathouse?”
“Yes.”
“Then you also heard her say that she heard a woman say something right before she looked in the window and saw you standing over Casey Van Meter with a bloody knife in your hand?”
Maxfield was frozen.
“If Terri Spencer was dead and Casey Van Meter was unconscious all the time you were in the boathouse, how did one of them say something?”
“I…”
“Or maybe it happened differently? Maybe the women were alive when you entered the boathouse.”
“No.”
“You stabbed Terri and she screamed twice. Then you attacked Casey Van Meter and she called out.”
“No,” Maxfield said, but the answer sounded false and his face told the jurors that he was lying.
Delilah had no more questions for Joshua Maxfield, and Eric Swoboda had no idea how to repair the damage her cross-examination had created. Swoboda called a few more witnesses before resting. Delilah did not feel that she needed to call any witnesses in rebuttal. As far as she was concerned, Joshua Maxfield’s conviction was a foregone conclusion.
Judge Shimazu told the parties to be ready to argue in the morning and recessed court. As soon as the jurors filed out and Joshua Maxfield had been led out of the room, Delilah swiveled her chair so she was facing Ashley.
“You got him. Your testimony buried Mr. Maxfield.”
“I didn’t…”
Delilah laughed. “Don’t be modest, girl. You heard a woman call out seconds before you saw Maxfield with that knife. One of the women had to be conscious when he walked into the boathouse. When he said that they were both out I knew he was lying, and you’re the one who proved it.”
Ashley didn’t look as happy as Delilah expected her to be.
“What’s the matter?” the DA asked. “You seem troubled.”
“It’s just…” She shook her head.
“No, what? Tell me.”
“I don’t feel like I won anything. Even if Maxfield is executed, Tanya and my parents are still dead.”
Delilah looked solemn. “I hear you,” she said. “I was wrong to be so happy. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in the fight I forget that a courtroom victory doesn’t end the suffering. But you have to think about this, Ashley. A conviction won’t bring back your folks and Tanya Jones, but your testimony saved lives. We don’t know who they are, but we can be certain that there are people alive today who would have been dead if Joshua Maxfield was on the loose.”
“What’s going to happen now?” Ashley asked.
“We argue in the morning. Then the judge will instruct the jury on the law. After that, the jury deliberates and brings in a verdict. My guess is that we’ll have a verdict by tomorrow night. If Maxfield is convicted of aggravated murder, the jury comes back and we have another trial to decide his sentence.”
Ashley reached out and touched the prosecutor. “Thank you for caring so much, Delilah. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
Delilah’s face split into a mile-wide grin. “You just gave me the bonus that makes this all worthwhile.”
Book Tour
Miles Van Meter had been speaking for thirty-five minutes when the door of Murder for Fun opened and closed. Claire Rolvag, Miles’s escort, looked toward the front of the store. Bookshelves blocked her view, but she was certain that she knew who had just entered. She turned her attention back to the author, who was answering a question about his writing habits.
“I was working full-time as a lawyer while I was writing Sleeping Beauty, so I had to sneak in the writing when I could. Sometimes I’d get an hour or two in during the week by setting my alarm for four-thirty. On the weekend, I’d try to get in at least four hours on Saturday and four on Sunday. That’s eight hours, which amounts to a full eight-hour workday. You’d be surprised how much you can write each week if you’re disciplined about it.”
A mousy-looking woman with thick glasses and a T-shirt from a mystery fans’ convention raised her hand. Miles pointed at her. She sounded nervous when she spoke, and Miles smiled warmly to encourage her.
“Mr. Van Meter, I’ve read the old edition and the special edition of Sleeping Beauty and I think that your book is the best true-crime book I have ever read.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your kind words. Did you have a question?”