Beyond Innocence (13 page)

Cory consulted her notes. She’d compiled a list of to-dos, but wasn’t quite sure where to start. Probably best to check with Paul for some guidance. A knock interrupted her thoughts. She looked up to see Skye Keaton standing in the doorway.

“I don’t remember you being such a bookworm when you worked at the DA’s office.”

Cory laughed. She’d never been a bookworm. She’d purposefully chosen trial work to be in the thick of things. Appellate attorneys read about cases. She lived them. Until now. “You got me. I’m going a bit stir crazy. Want to grab a coffee?”

“Sure.” Skye jangled a set of keys. “On the way.”

“On the way?”

“We’re going to Huntsville.”

“Kind of far for coffee.”

“Time to meet the client. I’ve been doing some digging, and we can talk on the way. Paul’s secretary made us an appointment.” She glanced at her watch. “We need to hit the road if we’re going to get there on time.”

Cory fought down a sense of panic. Meeting the client through volumes of paper transcripts was one thing. Meeting him through the bars of a jail cell was an entirely different matter. She’d been to jails before, interviewing witnesses in some of the cases she’d tried. But she’d never had to face a flesh and blood client on the other side of the cell.

As if she could sense Cory’s hesitation, Skye grabbed her arm. “Come on. Like you always used to say, there’s no substitute for seeing something, or in this case someone, for yourself.”

“Should’ve known those words would come back to bite me.”

Twenty minutes later, armed with Starbucks, they sped out of town with Skye at the wheel. Cory checked the e-mail on her phone out of habit, but since she didn’t have access to her Dallas County address, the messages were sparse. Melinda wanted to know if they could meet for dinner. It’d have to be a late meal since they were in for about six hours in the car roundtrip. She typed back a quick response, asking Melinda to meet her at the office that night, before tucking her phone into the console between the seats.

Skye waved a hand at Cory’s phone. “If you’re expecting any important messages, you should check in soon. We’ll lose cell signal in just a bit.”

“It’s been a while since I made this drive. I used to teach at the baby prosecutor school down in Huntsville, but I’ve been too busy the last couple of years to get away.”

“Work busy or personal busy?”

“Is there a difference?”

Skye chuckled. “I used to think that way. Until I got married. Now I know for sure there’s a difference.”

The laid-back private investigator sitting across from her was substantially different from the hard-nosed police detective she used to know. One particularly prominent detail captured Cory’s attention. They were tooling down the highway in a Lexus sedan. “Hey, aren’t you a Harley gal?”

Skye couldn’t hide a trace of disappointment. “I still have the Harley.”

“Way to dodge the question.”

“Yes, I’m a Harley gal. I love my bike.”

“And the Lexus?”

“Well, first, I don’t think I have a helmet that will fit your head. Second, the car was a wedding gift from Aimee.”

“I sense there’s a third…”

“There is. I decided to cut some of the risk out of my life since I’m about to be a parent. Besides, it cut my life insurance premium by about two-thirds.”

“Wow, marriage, kids, life insurance. Who would’ve ever thought you’d become so domesticated?”

Skye shrugged. “Not me. That’s for sure. I’m still the same person, but I have more than myself to live for, so I’ve decided to be a little more careful in my old age. But don’t get me wrong, I still have my bike, and Aimee and I take her for a regular Sunday ride to keep her in tune. “What about you? You have plans for a family someday?”

The direct question took Cory by surprise. She’d worked at the DA’s office so long, everyone there had stopped asking about her personal life after she’d made it clear details were off-limits. Funny how she projected an image of keeping professional and personal separate when she did anything but. Certainly some of their co-workers had to know she and Julie were involved, no matter how circumspect they tried to be about their relationship, but they’d never hear any details direct from the source.

A family with Julie was out of the question. They barely even saw each other anymore, and except for the other morning, neither of them seemed to want to hang around once they’d both orgasmed, and even those events were scattered these days. Her attraction for Julie had been all encompassing in the beginning. Aroused by Julie’s drive and confidence, she’d welcomed her advances. Their tryst lasted for years, but it never changed. Sex, shoptalk, more sex, and secrets. If news got out about their relationship, both their careers would be damaged—Julie for bedding one of her subordinates, and Cory for climbing the ladder by sleeping with the boss. That last wasn’t true, but no one would care enough to sort out the difference between the success she’d achieved on her own and the opportunities she’d been exposed to because of her relationship with Julie. Didn’t matter. No one could allege she’d received special treatment after the Nelson case had blown apart. The future promises Julie had made would forever be a secret the both of them would keep.

“I haven’t given a family much thought.”

Skye gave her a sharp stare and Cory imagined her thoughts were clearly visible. But she didn’t challenge Cory’s statement. “I think it’s one of those things that kind of sneaks up on you.”

Not if you’re on guard.
Despite her guard, Cory’s thoughts turned to Serena, and she wondered if Serena would want a family. Maybe not, considering her past. Or maybe her past would give her the resolve to nurture a child of her own, give something she’d never gotten. Why did her thoughts so easily turn to Serena whenever someone broached a personal subject? Time to change the subject. “Probably so. Want to talk about the case?”

Skye seamlessly shifted gears. “Sure. I assume you’ve read the whole transcript.”

“Yes. I probably need to talk to Nivens and Watkins.” She referred to the attorneys who’d represented Eric at trial. “I read the affidavits they wrote, and they steadfastly deny they did anything wrong.”

“You really think they are going to tell you something different than they wrote in a sworn affidavit? I can tell you right now, it’s going to be a waste of time. Those two will say they did everything necessary and they have a plausible sounding excuse for every questionable decision they made.”

Cory knew the drill. Defense attorneys weren’t going to go on record saying they did a bad job. She moved talking to them down on her list of urgent to-dos. “Okay, so what do you suggest?”

“Client first. Then I made a list of everyone who was working at the bar during that time period along with all the witnesses included in the police report. We need to talk to all of them and the cops that worked the case, but before we do, I want to hear what Eric has to say.”

“I can tell you what he’s going to say. He’s going to say he’s innocent.”

“Isn’t that the point of this whole effort?”

It was and it wasn’t. Unless they convinced the court there was a chance Eric was really innocent, he’d die as scheduled. But Cory wasn’t interested in buying into the belief herself. When she prosecuted a case, she got worked up about the guilt of the defendant, but she knew defense attorneys often didn’t care to know whether their clients were innocent or guilty. Protect their rights, guide them through the process. She’d do that for Eric, but she didn’t have to lend a piece of her heart to a man she didn’t know, a man with a history of criminal convictions. An image of Serena flashed in her mind. Despite her guarded professionalism, she felt a tinge of compassion. More than compassion, really. She chose not to name the feeling. It would only get in her way.

“Let’s just do what we need to do to get Eric a new trial. A jury can decide if he’s innocent or not.”

“Juries make mistakes.”

Cory caught the tone in Skye’s voice and knew she was referring to the Nelson case. Time to head her off the subject. “Juries make the best decision they can with the evidence they have.”

“Like Nelson? Jury didn’t have all the evidence there, did they?”

“Since when did you get so high and mighty? I seem to recall when you worked on the right side of the law and made a few close calls of your own.”

“Close calls? Seriously, is that what you call withholding evidence from the other side? Yes, I did my share of making close calls. At the time, I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“And now?”

“Now I know better. If someone’s guilty of a crime, it will bear out. Nobody wins when you cheat the system.”

“And it doesn’t bother you when murderers and rapists get off on a technicality?”

“I decided to let the system work the way it’s supposed to. Truth rarely leads to injustice.”

Cory wasn’t convinced, but the firm set of Skye’s jaw told her pushing the point was futile. “I know you think I blew the Nelson case.”

“I think you did what you thought you had to do.”

Skye’s assessment was close to right, but a bit off the mark. No way was Cory going to correct the assumption. All she wanted to do was put the whole case behind her. She let the comment go. There was nothing else she could say.

Since their names were on the list, they were bumped to the front of the security line. Despite her experience with jails, Cory had never been to death row. She was familiar with ankle-cuffed inmates sporting jumpsuits, shuffling into the visitor’s booth to speak with her. She wasn’t prepared for the sight of Eric Washington, in chains, escorted by armed guards bearing electric cattle prods.

She nodded to the guards and spoke loudly to be heard through the Plexiglas. “Thanks. We need to talk to him alone now.” She didn’t make a move to pick up one of the phone handsets until the guards made their exit. While she waited, she assessed the first client she’d ever had as a defense lawyer.

Pained eyes, gaunt face, haggard expression. He was only thirty-eight, but he looked twenty years older. As she examined him, she realized she was looking for signs of Serena. They shared the same mother, but not much else. Where Serena’s bearing was proud and confident, Eric was slumped, and he would barely meet her eyes. What did she expect? They had different fathers and they’d spent a lifetime apart. Nurture had obviously won this round.

“Eric, my name is Cory Lance. I’m working with the clinic and I’m going to be handling your case from here on out.” Cory put a hand on Skye’s shoulder. “This is Skye Keaton. She’s a private investigator that your sister hired to help us gather evidence to help with your appeal.”

His eyes signaled distrust. “What happened to Greg?”

Cory shot a look at Skye before answering. “He’s had a medical emergency and he’s going to be out of commission for a while. Since we have to get moving on your case, I’m stepping in to take over.”

“You mean ’cause they scheduled the date they’re going to kill me, right?”

Uncharted territory. Cory was used to talking to victims about their rights with compassion, but she was lost when it came to comforting the accused, a deficit made exponentially more difficult when the accused had already been found guilty by a jury of his peers.
What if Serena were sitting across from you? You’d find a way to be gentle, compassionate.
She settled on blunt honesty. Serena would expect nothing less. “Exactly. Now that they’ve scheduled your execution date, we’re working against the clock. I’m sure you know all your direct appeals have been exhausted. What we need to do now is convince a judge that you’re actually innocent and get the court to order you a new trial. I’m sure you realize how difficult a task that is.”

He cracked a small smile. “Impossible, I’d say.”

She’d only seen Serena’s smile once, but the impression it left was enough to allow her to recognize it now. Seeing a part of Serena in Eric for the first time made it easy for her to return the gesture. She appreciated his frank appraisal of his situation. “Pretty near, but not quite. I can’t promise you I can stop your execution, but I can promise you we’ll do everything we can to try and get you a new trial. If the evidence exists to warrant a new trial. Sounds like you already understand how difficult that’s going to be.”

He nodded. “I do. Folks around here, they dream a lot, talk trash about how they’re getting out, but I know the real deal. Once you’re here, you usually only leave in a pine box.”

His simple assessment of his bleak situation moved her. “Well, let’s try and avoid that, okay? Skye and I have a lot of questions for you, but we’d like you to start by telling us everything you remember about that night. Pretend you’re on the stand testifying for your life and tell us everything you’d want the jury to know. Leave nothing out, good, bad, whatever. We need to know everything if we’re going to be able to help you.”

She paused, considering her next statement. She’d discussed it with Skye on the ride down. Chances were good her name had been bandied about the prison, and she could only imagine what some of the inmates had to say about her. Better to be up front with Eric right now if she wanted to gain his trust. “Since I’m asking you to trust enough to tell us everything, I’m going to tell you something about myself first. Up until a couple of weeks ago, I was a prosecutor in the Dallas County District Attorney’s Office. I worked on the Ray Nelson case; you may have heard of it?”

Eric nodded, his face tightening into a scowl. Cory took a deep breath and continued, purposefully avoiding Skye’s questioning look. She was veering off script, but she knew in her gut she was saying the right things. “There’s a long story behind that case. A story I’m not at liberty to tell. But I’m working for the clinic now, part of it is penance for what happened in the Nelson case, but Paul Guthrie, the director, asked me to take over your case and I’m dedicated to nothing but for the duration. I like to win. I’ve built a career on winning. If you think that changes just because I usually work for the other side, you would be mistaken. I’ll work hard to win you a retrial.” She met his scowl with a hard stare. “You want to say something?”