"She doesn't look like your typical hooker."
"None of Jon's girls do. They're all classy fillies. College kids, smart, sassy, corn-fed. Jon's clientele is rich and influential. A congressman or CEO isn't going to spend a grand or two on a crack whore."
"Call the case," Judge Robard ordered. The bailiff rattled off the case name and number as Maria Lopez stood.
"Are you ready to proceed, Miss Lopez?" the judge asked.
"The state has a problem, Your Honor. I'm asking for a setover."
"We object, Your Honor," Oscar Baron said, leaping to his feet. "This is the third time Miss Lopez has done this. The last time . . ."
The judge cut him off with a wave of his hand. He did not look happy. "What's the basis for your motion, Miss Lopez?"
"Our key witness has disappeared. We were in contact with her as late as two days ago. The witness was under subpoena and assured us that she would appear."
"But she hasn't?"
"No, Your Honor. I talked to my trial assistant before I came to court. We sent an investigator to pick her up, but she wasn't home."
"The last time I granted your setover request I told you that I wouldn't grant another. Can you give me one good reason to change my mind?"
Lopez cast a nervous glance at Jon Dupre, who looked bored to death.
"Mr. Dupre has been out of custody since his bail hearing. He has a history of violence toward women . . ."
"This is outrageous," Oscar Baron shouted. "Mr. Dupre has always claimed that he's innocent of these groundless charges. I'm not surprised the state's witness didn't show. She's probably worried about perjury. And to suggest that my client had anything to do with her disappearance . . ."
"There's no need for speeches, Mr. Baron," Judge Robard said.
He turned back to Lopez. "Does your case rest completely on the testimony of this missing witness?"
"She's essential, Your Honor."
"Then it looks like you're between a rock and a hard place. Mr. Dupre has a right to have his case tried. This is the time we've set for the trial. You're going to have to chose between proceeding or dismissing."
Lopez moved for dismissal and Baron moved for a dismissal with prejudice. While they argued, Kerrigan turned to the detective.
"What do you think happened, Stan?"
He shook his head. "No idea. Andrews seemed standup. But Dupre can be a scary guy. Maybe she got cold feet."
Kerrigan shifted his attention to the front of the courtroom when Judge Robard began to speak.
"I've heard enough. The case will be dismissed on the motion of the district attorney. Bail will be exonerated."
"Is that dismissal with prejudice, Your Honor?"
"No it is not, Mr. Baron. Court is adjourned."
Everyone in the courtroom stood when the judge rose, and Kerrigan moved his head slightly so he could see Ally Bennett again. She turned toward him for a moment, and his gut tightened. Bennett was dressed in a black tailored jacket over a cream-colored silk blouse. A string of pearls graced her slender neck. A short black skirt showed off lightly muscled and tanned legs.
A dispirited Maria Lopez stuffed her paperwork in a file and marched, head down, up the aisle. Kerrigan and Gregaros fell in step beside her.
"It's not your fault, Maria," Kerrigan assured his disconsolate deputy. "I've been through this. So have most of the DAs in the office."
"We'll find Andrews," Gregaros assured her. "Then you'll put that arrogant prick away."
As they passed through the courtroom doors, Kerrigan cast one more glance at Ally Bennett, who was having an animated conversation with Dupre. She looked upset. Then the door closed behind Kerrigan, and the couple was lost from view.
That evening, Tim Kerrigan braved his wife's anger and daughter's disappointment and stayed late again, but he only pretended to work. There were cases to prepare and legal briefs to write, but he was too distracted to concentrate. By six, only a few stalwarts were still working. When all of the deputies and secretaries in the area had left, Kerrigan wandered over to Maria Lopez's desk. The cleaning people were starting to move through the office, but Kerrigan was not concerned about them, and he had a story prepared if another deputy spotted him.
The loose-leaf binders containing the Dupre case were neatly stacked on one corner of Maria's desk. Kerrigan's hand trembled when he opened the top binder. It contained the police reports in the case. He leafed through them until he found what he wanted. Then he wrote Ally Bennett's address and phone number on a slip of paper and walked back to his office.
His pulse was pounding when he closed his door. He sat down and stared at the white notepaper with his nervous scrawl. On his desk was a photograph of Cindy and Megan. Kerrigan squeezed his eyes shut. His blood roared in his ears.
Kerrigan reached for his phone and dialed Ally's number. The receiver felt hot in his hand. The phone rang twice. Kerrigan's grip tightened. He started to hang up.
"Hello?"
It was a woman. Her voice was husky.
"Hello?" she repeated.
Kerrigan replaced the receiver on the cradle, closed his eyes, and leaned his head back. What was he thinking? His heartbeat was rapid enough to alarm him, so he took long, deep breaths. After a moment, he picked up the phone and dialed again. Cindy answered.
"Hi, hon," he said. "I caught a break. Tell Megan I'll be home soon."
Chapter Five.
"Can you take a look at something for me?" Frank Jaffe asked from the doorway of Amanda's office. Amanda's father, a solidly built man in his late fifties, had a ruddy complexion and gray-streaked, curly black hair. A nose broken in his youth made him look more like a stevedore than a lawyer.
Amanda glanced at the clock. "I was wrapping up. I've got a date tonight."
"This won't take long." Frank walked over to her desk and handed her a thick file. "It's that new case I picked up in Coos Bay, the murder. There was a search at Eldrige's summer cabin and I want your opinion. I dictated a memo on the points I'm interested in. I'd do it myself, but I'm off to Roseburg for a hearing."
"Can't this wait until the morning?"
"I have to make some decisions in the case early tomorrow. Come on, help me here."
Amanda sighed. "You can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."
Frank grinned. "Love you, too. I have to be in court at nine in the morning, so call my motel room around seven. The number is clipped to the file."
As soon as the door closed, Amanda opened the file. When she pulled out a stack of police reports, some crime-scene photographs fell onto her blotter. One showed a woman's body sprawled on a beach where the tide had left her. Close-ups of her bloated and ravaged face documented the destruction the sea and its creatures had wreaked on her humanity.
A horrible memory overwhelmed Amanda. Without warning, she was naked, her hands bound, running in the dark, prodded by the point of a sharp knife. She fought for air, her breath coming in short gasps, just as it had on that terrible night in the tunnel. For a moment she even thought that she smelled damp earth. Amanda jammed her fist into her mouth to keep from screaming. She flung herself out of her chair and huddled on the floor in a corner of her office, bringing her knees to her chest and squeezing her eyes shut. The blood had drained from her face. Her heart was racing.