Exposed, page 23
She leaned in, looking at each of them in turn. “We will fight for Morgan. We will defend her to our last breaths. And somehow, we will find a way to win.”
Chapter 38
Kenzi decided to livestream during her walk to work. She hadn’t done it in several days and didn’t want her following to think she’d dropped off the grid. She knew many would be eager to hear what she had in store for the first day of the defense case.
“Hello, KenziKlan. This is going to be a busy day for me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t find time for my Klan. You are the wind beneath my wings, the people I know I can count on for support. I very much appreciate you.”
She turned a corner and strode toward the courtroom. “I think most of you already know about my current case, and you probably know that today the defense goes into high gear. I won’t talk about the details, because the judge wouldn’t like it and I don’t want to appear to be trying to influence the jury. But I will say this much. I believe in my client. Good people need to stick together, especially when times get tough. Don’t judge. Don’t condemn others because they make a mistake or have a problem. The true mark of a community is how well we take care of one another. When times get tough, that’s when people need your love—not your condemnation.”
* * *
Kenzi was surprised to see how many familiar faces were still in the courtroom. Dr. Quinn was present, even though he had not been called. She’d considered having him explain Morgan’s condition, but worried that it might seem too much like pleading insanity, even though it wasn’t remotely the same thing.
Brent and Charles were lingering about, no big surprise. Harvey Vasquez. And Peter Taylor, the cheaters’ app CEO. She had briefly considered calling him to establish that Morgan had not been trolling for a sex partner or uploading nude photos of herself. But again, too dangerous. The less said about the pics, the better.
And that’s the wonderful world I live in now, Kenzi thought. Every witness I might call could potentially do Morgan more damage that good.
Leaving her with next to nothing.
She only spotted one major change in the gallery. Gabriel wasn’t here anymore.
But her father had taken his seat.
“Morning, Daddy. Are you lost? Divorce court is two floors up.”
“I think you’re the one who’s lost.” He smiled. “I wanted to see how my little girl is faring.”
“You wanted to spy on me.”
“Monitoring the firm’s lawyers is part of my job.”
“I thought Gabe was the managing partner now.”
He smiled but didn’t take the bait. “Saw Lou Crozier this morning. His divorce settlement offer is still on the table.”
That wasn’t all Crozier wanted. “My client turned it down.”
“I hear this murder case could go to the jury today. If she’s convicted, you’ll lose your ability to negotiate the divorce. You should take the offer while you can.”
She decided to remain polite. Rather than say what she was actually thinking. “My client says no.”
“She would say yes if you explained it to her properly.”
She looked straight back at him. “That isn’t going to happen.”
He frowned but didn’t pursue it. “Crozier also seemed to be hinting that you might leave the firm.”
Now he was getting to it. “The only thing on my mind right now is this trial.”
“Before, you told me you were planning a hostile takeover of my firm.”
“Did that worry you?”
“No. I thought it was kind of exciting. That’s the Kenzi I’ve always known and loved.”
“Though not enough to make her the managing partner.”
“I did what was best for my firm. And my family.”
That stung. But she wouldn’t let it show. “I haven’t made any decisions yet.”
“You know, both my firm and Crozier’s are essentially divorce shops. If you continue dabbling in criminal law...”
“We might increase our client base?”
He sighed. “You might send the wrong message. Project the wrong image.”
“You want to be the ivory tower firm. Only blue-chip clients. No mucking around with the real people.”
“You can act that way if you want, but the truth is, the so-called ‘real people’ are exactly what I’ve worked all my life to avoid. Bigots. Thieves. Losers. I built a successful business so my children could run it after my time has passed. You can work without being a wage slave. And you can live without rubbing shoulder-to-shoulder with the worst elements of society.”
“I kinda like the real people. And I need to get to work. Good seeing you. Must dash.”
Harrington was waiting for her as she strode down the aisle. Had he finally decided she was worthy of a chat?
He flashed ten fingers at her twice. “Twenty years. Cut and dried. Then we can go home and enjoy the weekend.”
“Twenty years? That’s like your dream verdict. If every single juror buys every single word you say.”
“Not true. We could get life.”
“Which you and I both know does not actually mean life.”
“But it could mean more than twenty years.”
“Maybe.”
He shrugged. “You want to roll the dice and hope you get boxcars, fine. But I’m giving you a respectable exit strategy. A generous one, honestly, given how well this trial has gone for me.”
Kenzi played tough. “This trial hasn’t gone nearly as well for you as you think.” She didn’t believe that, but maybe if she said it loudly enough she could scare him. You can’t negotiate if you don’t hold any cards. “And twenty years is not generous. It’s my worst-case scenario. Give me ten and I’ll take it back to my client.”
“No can do. And you will take every offer back to your client, because the Code of Professional Conduct requires you to do so.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah. “She won’t take twenty years.”
He lowered his voice “Look, you may not know this, because you’re really a divorce lawyer, but with a twenty-year sentence...she could be out in fewer than fourteen.”
Thank you, Almighty Criminal Law Expert. “I was aware—”
“And for that matter, she could be sent to the most comfortable, high-society, country-club prison in the country. She fits the profile.”
Kenzi arched an eyebrow. “Meaning?”
“She’s wealthy. Money to burn, apparently. And she’s...” He shrugged. “You know.”
“I don’t.”
He lowered his voice. “White. Or whitish.”
“She’s Latinx. Like me.”
“Very light-skinned. Close enough.”
She felt her teeth clench. “I’ll take the offer to my client.”
“You know,” Harrington added, “there’s a benefit bar association golf tournament this weekend. Are you playing?”
Was he kidding? “No. I never understood the appeal of knocking a little ball around a field.”
“Then spend the weekend with your daughter. Point is, this weekend would be a lot more fun if we put this trial to bed first.”
“Fear not. We’re only calling a few witnesses.”
He grinned. “Don’t have much to say?”
She maintained a stony demeanor. “We prioritize quality over quantity. You don’t need a bucket-load of witnesses when each one is devastating.”
She pivoted on one heel and headed for her table. Okay, she may have overstated the quality of her defense. But she wanted him to have something to worry about other than his golf handicap.
She leaned in close to Morgan. “The DA has offered—”
“Rejected.”
That didn’t take much deliberation. “Do you want to hear the offer first?”
“Does it involve me pleading guilty?”
“Of course.”
“Then I don’t need to hear it. Rejected.”
* * *
For her first witness, Kenzi recalled Dr. Frederick Bonneville back to the witness stand. The jury already knew who this guy was, so she didn’t waste any time. “You testified that you found two sets of DNA beneath the victim’s fingernails, correct?”
“That is true.”
“And you haven’t identified the second set of DNA. The one that isn’t attributable to my client.”
“Also true. The source of that DNA apparently does not have a criminal record. I haven’t been able to match it.”
“Maybe you should be looking closer to home.” She paused. “How do you account for the differing DNA donors?”
“Apparently the victim came into contact with two different people.”
“Are there...any other possibilities?”
Now he was wary. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Would you please explain the concept of chimerism?”
A suspicious smile crossed his face. Before, he must’ve wondered why he’d been subpoenaed and dragged back to court. Now he knew. “Is that what you’re going for?” He chuckled softly. “Chimerism refers to the extremely rare instance in which a living creature possess more than one set of DNA.”
“Which, just to be clear, actually happens.”
“In extremely rare circumstances.”
“Such as when a bone marrow transplant has occurred.”
“That is correct. But this has only been seen in humans in a few extremely—”
“Are you aware that one of the principals in this case has received a bone marrow transplant?”
He stopped short. “Umm...no. Why?”
“The person in question had leukemia. Which, thanks to the transplant, is now completely in remission.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Who would that be?”
“Charles Land. My client’s husband. And the man who should be one of the primary suspects in this case, and would’ve been if the police hadn’t immediately decided to go after the wife before they’d even begun to investigate.”
“Objection,” Harrington said. “This is an obvious attempt to divert suspicion from the defendant to a third party.”
The judge tilted his head. “And that’s an objection? That’s more like a description of what cross-examination is. Overruled.”
Bonneville looked a bit embarrassed. “I did not know Land received a transplant. I was never asked to review his files.”
“Then you also don’t know who he got the bone marrow from, right?”
She could almost see a light bulb forming over his head. “It...usually comes from a close family member...”
“It came from his wife. My client. Morgan Moreno.”
Bonneville said nothing.
“So it is entirely possible, given the facts of forensic science, that Charles Land could be carrying two sets of DNA. The DNA he was born with, and the DNA of his wife. Right?”
Harrington looked supremely uncomfortable. “I have no reason to believe or suspect—”
“Is it possible?”
He blew out a lungful of air. “It is possible.”
“And that means the DNA sample you found under Sally’s fingernails didn’t necessarily come from my client. It could have come from Charles Land.”
“I don’t—”
“Is it possible?”
Bonneville’s shoulders sagged. “It is...remotely possible.”
“Thank you. No more questions.”
Chapter 39
During the break, Kenzi met Sharon in the back of the courtroom. She was standing beside a tall blonde woman with long hair and a corduroy jacket. Something about her screamed cop.
“You must be Kate Corrigan.”
Kate took her hand. “Guilty as charged.”
“Sharon has told me all about you.”
“All?” She arched an eyebrow, then glanced at Sharon. “Interesting.”
Sharon seemed a bit nervous. “We kinda bonded over Law and Order. And popsicle juice.”
Kenzi blinked. “Did I...miss something?”
Kate answered. “I found something at the crime scene that looked and tasted like popsicle juice. But I had a hard time imagining someone walking around with a popsicle on a cold misty Seattle night. Turned out it was fruit juice.”
“Okay. So?”
“The next morning when I went to work, I saw Charles Land in the Chief’s office. Holding a plastic bottle of Naked fruit juice. You know, that supposedly healthy stuff that tastes like what juice would taste like if you took out everything that makes it good? He apparently drinks naked every day. Morning and evening.”
“And you thought that might be what you found in the alley?”
“There’s no way of proving it. But those bottles do tend to perspire, and it’s easy to spill a little on your hands. It could end up on anything you touch. I certainly thought it deserved more investigation. But the Chief wouldn’t let me. Transferred me to another case.” She paused. “So of course, I continued looking into it during my free time.”
“I appreciate your willingness to help the defense. However...strange that seems.”
“I just want to see the case solved,” Kate explained. “Correctly.”
“Aren’t you concerned about Harrington seeing you talking to us?”
“Nah. He knows I’m a renegade. And I don’t work for him.”
“He talks to your boss like, every day.”
“As long as I keep solving cases, the Chief will leave me alone. Harrington needs us. Especially if he ever wants to be more than the district attorney.”
Kenzi couldn’t help but admire the woman’s independent spirit. “So you’re helping us to make sure justice is done?”
Kate nodded. “And to help Sharon, of course.”
Sharon laughed again, loud and unnecessarily. “We’ve become good friends during the past few weeks.”
Kenzi’s eyes narrowed. “Indeed.”
“Yeah! Isn’t that wild?”
Kate jumped in, her voice as calm as ever. “We’re dating.”
“Ah. Aha.” Kenzi looked at Sharon. “You didn’t mention that. Like, so much you didn’t mention...”
“I know how you feel. Sometimes I surprise myself.”
Back to Kate. “So you’d be willing to testify?”
“Issue a subpoena. I have no choice, right?” Kate winked. For such an imposing woman, she had a super-cute wink.
“I don’t want to deal with a hostile witness.”
“You won’t have to. Just get me on the stand and let me go to town on this case. You won’t be sorry.”
* * *
Kenzi could see Harrington was both confused and concerned when she called Kate Corrigan to the witness stand. Of course, that made it all the sweeter.
She fed the jury Kate’s background, her years of experience, her success solving difficult cases, and her devotion to law and order. The concept, not the television program. She thought the jury was impressed. They were just as surprised to see a cop testifying for the defense as Harrington was.
She quickly covered the popsicle theory. Though interesting, she wasn’t sure how convincing it was. The fact Charles drank juice hardly proved he committed murder. She wanted the jury to think of him as a potential suspect, but if she overreached, they might see the whole thing as a desperate attempt to divert blame.
“Just to be clear, Detective Corrigan, have you been working on the Seattle Strangler case?”
“Yes, though of course, that’s a name the press uses, not the police department. Only a few of the victims are known to have been strangled. The media assume they were all strangled—but we try to base our investigation on facts, not assumptions.”
“Do you think Sally Beaumont was killed by the Strangler?”
“I can’t rule out the possibility. But there were several differences between this murder and the others, enough to warrant investigation.”
“Were you asked to conduct any such investigation?’
“No. I was removed from the case. There’s a Canadian syndicate operating a sex trafficking ring in the Pacific Northwest and that has demanded a great deal of our attention. Apparently they were chased out of Florida and they’re trying to establish roots here. And we have the usual local crimes. Suffice to say, I haven’t had trouble finding something to do.”
“Were you happy about his reassignment?”
“Frankly, no. I thought the Beaumont case deserved more investigation than it received.” Across the aisle, Harrington frowned. “There’s no secret about this. I’ve said the same thing to my boss.”
“Based upon your years of experience and expertise, what investigation do you believe needs to be done?”
“In any case of this nature, the first possible suspect the police consider is the spouse. I’m sure you already knew that. Especially true when the parties are already in divorce court. What person trapped in that nightmare hasn’t thought about killing their ex?” She laughed a bit. “But in this case, it’s more complicated. Because the victim had two spouses.”
Kenzi nodded. “But only my client was charged.”
“Right. And that’s what I didn’t get. As far as I could tell, we had two primary suspects, both equally viable. I didn’t find any evidence that clearly pointed one way or the other. Two women had a spat in court earlier that day—so what? Doesn’t prove anything. But the district attorney sought an arrest warrant against Morgan Moreno almost immediately and had her arrested.”
“The arrest warrant wasn’t your idea?”
“Absolutely not. I asked my boss about it. The Chief of Police.”
“What did he say?”
“He didn’t say anything. But he handed me a file.”
Kenzi lifted a folder containing photocopies of the documents in question. “What was in the file?”
“Receipts. Specifically, a record of the history of large donations made by Charles Land to various law enforcement funds. Police Officer’s Retirement Fund. That sort of thing. And also a record of large donations made to Shel Harrington’s election campaign.”
Harrington looked supremely unhappy. But he kept his mouth closed.
“Anything more?”
“No. But that file spoke volumes. Charles had bought the favor of the powers that be. Morgan hadn’t. So big surprise, Morgan was charged and Charles was never investigated. Even though...” She paused, as if choosing her words carefully. “Many people involved thought he should be.”
