Henderson nodded. “That Kerrigan broad did put a hurt on you.”
Robin nodded in agreement. “That she did, which is why I decided it was safer to duke it out with DAs and judges.”
Henderson laughed.
“So, Everett… Can I call you Everett?”
“Sure thing.”
“I read the police reports before I came over. The DA is saying you killed Greg Schaefer, an off-duty cop, in a bar fight.”
Henderson stopped smiling. “I did kill that motherfucker, but he started it.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened.”
“My lady and I was in the Shamrock and we were dancing. The asshole I killed was in civilian clothes, and there’s no way I could tell he was a cop. He’d been drinking with his buddies, and he’d had way more than one too many—or he would have known better than to come on to Felicia.”
“Felicia is your girlfriend?”
Henderson nodded. “And she’ll tell you she told him real polite that she did not want to dance with him. She’ll also tell you that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. That’s when I suggested that he fuck off or get hurt. Which is when he took a swing at me.”
Henderson shook his head. “Dumb move. I done a little fighting of my own. Tough-guy competitions and plenty of street stuff. Plus, I was sober and he wasn’t. I decked him pretty quick and Felicia pulled me off of him. We was walking back to our table when he grabbed a bottle and smashed me on the head.”
Henderson bent his head down to show Robin his stitches.
“Fucker hit me from behind and was jabbing at me with the jagged end after the bottle broke. That’s when I knifed him. But he started the whole thing. I was just defending myself.”
“His friends tell a different story.”
“Yeah, well, they’re lying motherfuckers. Hell, I doubt they saw what happened. Their table was way on the other side of the bar.”
“Other than Felicia, were there any other witnesses who can back up your story?”
“Anyone in the bar who saw what happened.”
“My firm has an excellent investigator named Jeff Hodges. Give me the names, addresses, and phone numbers of your witnesses, and I’ll have Jeff talk to them. Then he’ll talk to the State’s witnesses. I’m also going to get a doctor to look at your head wound, and I may have Jeff take some pictures.”
“What about getting me out of here?”
“I’ll try, but I’m not optimistic. There’s no automatic bail in a murder case, and you are charged with killing a cop. Proving that the charge is bullshit may take a while. I may change my mind about the chances for bail when I’ve read all of the reports.”
“Take your time. I’m okay in here.”
“I figured that this wasn’t your first rodeo,” Robin said.
Henderson grinned.
“I’m still going to warn you about discussing this case with anyone except me and Jeff.”
“I know all about jailhouse snitches. I’ve had to explain why that activity is unhealthy to a few of them.”
Robin held up her hands. “Too much information, Everett.”
Henderson laughed and Robin stood up.
“Get me that witness list as fast as you can. Call when it’s ready, and I’ll send Jeff over to talk to you.”
“Thanks for coming over so quickly.”
Robin rang for the guard. It was a little after four when she left the jail, and she decided to go home instead of returning to the office. During her walk, Robin thought about Henderson’s case. She didn’t like to predict how she would do, because she knew that clients weren’t always truthful, but she felt pretty good about Henderson’s chances. If he was telling the truth.
CHAPTER FOUR
The phone was ringing. Robin sat up and stared at the clock. It was two in the morning.
“Miss Lockwood,” a frightened voice whispered.
“Yes.”
“This is Randi Stark. They’re after me.”
Robin was still groggy. “Who’s after you?”
“Blaine.”
“The boy who raped you?”
“Yes.”
“Is he there?”
“Not him. One of his friends. He followed me from the club.”
“Why do you think he’s a friend of Hastings’s?”
“Because he’s a giant. He’s gotta play football.”
Robin suddenly realized that Randi was slurring her words. “Have you been drinking?”
“Yeah, at the Blue Unicorn. That’s where he was.”
“Where are you now?”
“I didn’t think I could make it home, so I hid around back of this gas station between two Dumpsters.”
“Okay. Give me the address, and I’ll come over right away.”
Last year, Robin had purchased a .38 Special after someone involved in one of her cases had tried to kill her. After pulling on jeans, a T-shirt, and a sweatshirt, Robin put the gun in its holster and headed out.
The gas station was fifteen minutes from Robin’s apartment by car. It was deserted, and the lights on its two islands and those that had been left on in the office provided the only illumination. Robin switched off her headlights and parked in the shadows at the far edge of the lot. She closed her car door quietly, then headed for the back of the station. Halfway there, she heard voices.
Robin pulled out her .38, jogged along the side of the building, and looked around the corner. There were no lights in the back of the station, and the Dumpsters were at the end of the building farthest from her. Robin squinted into the shadow and saw Randi Stark cowering in front of a man who was the size of two normal humans. The neck of Randi’s T-shirt was clamped in a hand the size of a catcher’s mitt.
Robin walked toward the Dumpsters and raised her gun. “Stop right there,” Robin commanded.
The man spun around and released Randi, who fell hard onto the asphalt. The man’s face was in shadow, but she heard the disdain in his voice when he said, “You’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, bitch. Get smart and leave fast.”
“I’m going to make this very simple,” Robin answered, “since anyone who is unarmed and insults someone with a gun has to be very stupid. This .38 Special is loaded with hollow-point bullets. Anywhere I shoot you will fuck you up big-time, and I’d have to be a horrible shot to miss someone the size of a rhinoceros. Leave now and live, or stay here and die. Your choice.”
The man hesitated, and Robin could see he was fighting the urge to charge. Then he backed away, his eyes never leaving Robin’s, until he disappeared into the shadows.
Randi began to sob. Robin waited a few seconds to make sure that the behemoth didn’t decide to sneak back. Then she placed the gun on the asphalt, where she could get to it quickly, and knelt next to Randi.
“You’re safe,” she said, but Randi continued to cry and shake. “It’s okay, I scared him off. Can you stand up? I want to get you out of here.”
Randi struggled to her feet. Robin picked up the gun, led her to her car, sweeping the lot in case Randi’s attacker was hiding in the shadows. Robin didn’t relax until they were locked in the car and driving out of the lot. And even then, she kept looking in her mirrors to make sure they weren’t being followed. Eventually, she parked at a fast-food restaurant and put Randi in a booth near the back.
“Stay here while I get you some coffee. Do you want something to eat?”
“Just coffee,” Randi said.
Robin returned with two take-out cups and put one of them in front of her client. “Tell me what happened,” Robin said.
“I went to the club. It was crowded and I danced with a couple of guys. Then the door opened. I was facing it. When he came in, you couldn’t miss him. I wasn’t worried until he made eye contact and started wading through the crowd toward me.