Eyewitness (Thriller/Legal Thriller - #5 The Witness Series) (The Witness Series #5) (17 page)

He got his phone and punched in the number for his friend at the DEA, spent no time on pleasantries, and gave him the phone number Carlotta had given him. He asked for help running it down overseas along with any other information he might have on Rosa or Billy. Archer threw Oi and Duka in for good measure and hung up. He had no idea if what the agent found out would hurt or help Josie in the next hearing, but it could go a long way to satisfying his own curiosity.

In Billy’s room Archer grabbed some clothes: jeans, t-shirts, and a button down just in case they couldn’t get a t-shirt over Billy’s cast. He found Billy’s backpack in the corner of the room, swung it on the bed. Whether Billy actually studied was questionable but he brought the books home.

English literature.

Biology.

History.

Archer tossed them on the bed and then put the clothes inside. When he was finished, he slung it over his shoulder only to find that he missed one. Archer pulled out another book. This one was worn, soft with age and written in Albanian. Archer flipped the pages. There were two markers. One a picture of a man and a woman and a girl, the other was a letter that had been folded and unfolded so many times it was falling apart, the ink was faded and illegible.

Archer put it back. Billy would probably want it, and Archer wanted him to explain it.

***

Billy Zuni’s smile faltered, wilted, and finally vanished as he took in all the information Josie had given him about the meeting in Judge Healy’s chambers. She had done her best to be upbeat, but Billy wasn’t stupid.

“Do you understand the choices, Billy?”

His shoulders rose half-heartedly. “I don’t get to choose anything.”

“You can choose what you want me to ask for,” Josie said

“Will the judge let me go home?”

She shook her head. “No, Billy. I promise you don’t want that.”

His head bobbed. Tears came easily to him now. Words got lost in the lump in his throat but he managed to say:

“Just no jail. I didn’t do anything to go to jail for. Not even juvie.”

“I’ll do my best.” She squeezed his hand, hoping he didn’t take that gesture as a promise. “Are you sure there aren’t any relatives who would step up?”

“I don’t know any,” he mumbled.

Josie knew he was telling the truth. Thousands of people couldn’t name one person in the world who cared about them. Either there literally weren’t any, they had lost touch with the ones they did have, or multiple marriages and ill will had diluted the connections. Old people died alone, run away kids ended up in the system only to be cut loose when they were eighteen with no place to go, and people wandered the streets, homeless. How sad, how outrageous that Billy was one of them. And if Josie failed to win the least restrictive placement, then Billy Zuni would fade into memory. He’d never come back to the beach the way he left it.

“Then we’re going to have to give the judge reason to put you in a home setting. Are you ready? You have to tell me the truth even if you think it sounds bad. This is just between you and me.”

When he nodded again, Josie began.

Josie: You came from Albania, is that correct?

Billy: Yes.

Josie: Why did you come here?

Billy: I don’t know. I was little.

Josie: Didn’t Rosa say?

Billy: Rosa said it was dangerous to talk about it.

Josie: And she never gave you any reason?

Billy: No.

Josie: Did you know those men in your house?

Billy: I knew the man who dressed like a girl. Mr. Oi.

Josie: Was he a friend?

Billy: We lived in his house for a while, but we left. Then I heard Rosa talking to him on the phone. I don’t remember the language much, but I knew she was talking to him.

Josie: Do you know why she was talking to him?

Billy shook his head again. Josie let go of his hand and sat back. Rosa hadn’t told Billy that she kept in touch with Oi. That was her secret and she went to great lengths to keep the relationship from Billy. Perhaps Billy was Oi’s child. Women kept their children from the biological father for all sorts of reasons. Carl Newton would argue that Billy was enraged to be kept apart from his father – a wealthy one at that. Josie could argue exactly the opposite and say that Billy would never hurt the man who was his father. She began again.

Josie: Can you make a guess why he called her?

Billy: No. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t ask what it was about. I didn’t want to know.

Josie: Did you kill Mr. Oi and the other man?

The change in Billy was so sudden and fleeting, Josie almost wasn’t sure it had happened. Billy’s eyes narrowed, his shoulders broadened and tensed, the muscles on his exposed arm corded. Josie saw what Carl Newton only imagined: a young, strong, man, angered, hair-triggered and ready for a fight. Not a boy at all. Perhaps, the rose colored glasses were hers.

Billy: Jesus, Josie. Why would I want to kill anybody?

Josie: Because one of them hurt Rosa.

Billy: When have you even seen me do anything mean?

The tears came again as Billy wilted. Whatever she had seen disappeared as quickly as it had come.

Josie: Never, Billy. I have never seen you hurt anyone.

Billy: And where would I get a gun?

Josie: I don’t know.

She paused but only briefly. She could not – would not – be fooled. Billy may be remorseful, he may be angry, he may be despairing, or he might be faking. It was up to her to figure it out.

Josie: What time did you leave the beach with Trey?

Billy: It was late. My mom said I could come back after midnight. She didn’t want me too early. I was having a good time anyway.

Josie: Why did Trey go with you?

Billy: He was hungry, and he was messed up.

Josie: Did he go in the house?

Billy: After me. I went in first.

Josie: Did he hurt anyone?

Billy: Mr. Oi was hurt when I went in. I just ran upstairs to find Rosa. It was awful. The knife was in her back. I pulled it out and I was crying.

Josie: What about the man in the living room?

Billy: I didn’t see anyone.

Josie: The man on the couch?

Billy: There were no lights. I wanted to find help for Rosa. That’s all I wanted when I went down the stairs. Then I saw someone. I thought it was Trey. I really thought it was Trey.

Josie: Who was it?

Billy: I don’t know. I ran away. I just ran and ran. I don’t know what I was running from. I never knew what we were running from.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.” She ducked her head, she looked into his face but he averted his eyes. “Whatever your problems were, they’re nothing compared to what’s coming down the road, Billy. I know there are things you’re not telling me. You’ll have to if I’m going to help. Tell me right now who Rosa is. She’s not your mother, is she?”

Bill’s shoulders fell, his eyes closed as if he was finally going to rest after a long journey. Finally, he looked at Josie Bates.

“Rosa’s my sister.”

“Where are your parents?”

“In Albania. They gave me to Rosa.” Billy leaned forward so that his lips were close to her ear. “She saved me. She kept me safe. They wanted to kill me, Ms. B.”

“Who wanted to kill you?” she whispered back.

“Rosa knows.” His voice got smaller. “I’m so afraid.”

A chill ran through Josie Bates. His confession implied that she could protect him. The truth was that she could only try to protect him. Her arms went around him awkwardly. The plastic of the IV cold against her arm, the much worn hospital gown soft under her fingers, and Billy’s body convulsed as he started to cry in earnest.

“Who wants to kill you? Your parents?”

He shook his head against her shoulder. “I thought it was Mr. Oi. Rosa hated him.”

“Then why was he in your house?”

Billy’s head moved back and forth against her shoulder.

“I don’t know. She always said they would come in the night.”

He pulled back as if to look at her. Instead, he gazed through the window, tears washing down his poor, beaten face.

“She didn’t like me going in the storm, but she said I had to. I thought it was just me they wanted to kill, but they tried to kill her, Josie. I should have been there. I should have. . .”

That was as far as he got. The weeping was deep, the shivering uncontrollable, and the fear real. His head fell back onto Josie’s shoulder.

“Shhh. We’ll figure it out.”

Josie murmured words that meant nothing. Her brain turned furiously, spinning from one end of the spectrum to the other, from a conspiracy, to Rosa’s madness, to the possibility that the madness was Billy’s.

This was how Mike Montoya found the lawyer and her client. He could not afford to think of them any other way. Josie saw him and pushed the crying boy away, buying time as she covered him with the blanket.

“This is a privileged conversation.”

“I am here to question your client,” Mike said evenly.

“When I’m done,” Josie shot back. “When he’s composed.”

“I’m sorry. You’re done now,” Mike ordered.

“Josie?” Billy struggled to sit up.

“Don’t say anything Billy,” she directed. Then to Montoya: “Give us five minutes. Let him pull himself together. She looked past him to the door where a uniformed deputy stood. She looked back at the detective. “Montoya?”

“Ms. B. What’s going on?” Billy called.

“Billy, as your lawyer I am advising you not to answer this man’s questions.”

Montoya had the right to try to question Billy, but she had the obligation to make it darn hard if not impossible to do so. Mike’s shoulders swiveled to indicate the man behind him.

“This is Deputy Sheriff Price. He will be stationed outside this door.”

“Are you arresting my client?” Josie put herself between the detective and the boy.

“Deputy Price will be insuring that Billy does not pose a danger to himself or to anyone else in this hospital.”

“Montoya, a moment,” she pleaded. “Outside, Montoya. In the hall. Please.”

“Ms. Bates, let me do my job.”

Josie backed toward the window, hands up. She wouldn’t interfere, but she didn’t want to be removed. Mike stepped to the foot of Billy’s bed.

“William Zuni, you are going to be questioned in regard to the assault and attempted murder of Rosa Zuni-”

Billy shot forward. “I didn’t do anything!”

Josie tried to restrain him, but the strong man had resurfaced and he pushed back as Mike Montoya advised him of his rights.

“You are under arrest for the assault with intent to kill Rosa Zuni. You have the right to remain silent-”

“Oh, no. Oh, my God,” Billy cried.

“This is ridiculous.” Josie raised her voice, objecting, attempting to distract and deter. “What proof? What proof do you have?”

“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed –“ Mike went on.

“We have the right to know, Montoya. What evidence is there?”

Mike answered her question, but locked eyes with Billy Zuni.

“A knife was found at the beach near the pier. This afternoon, our lab confirmed your client’s fingerprints and blood consistent with that of Rosa Zuni on it.”

“I took it. Josie! Josie, tell them what I said.” Billy grabbed her arm and pulled at her. “I told you. I took it away.”

“Quiet, Billy,” Josie snapped. “Don’t say anything.”

But Billy couldn’t hear her. Blind with terror, he clutched at her with his good arm, spitting out his denials.

“I swear, Josie. I could never hurt her. I just took it away.”

“Deputy Price,” Montoya called. “We need assistance!”

“No, I’ve got it.” Josie pivoted, determined to get control of the situation, but Billy was hysterical. The IV stand tilted, tipped and crashed to the floor behind her, ripping the tubing out of Billy’s arm as it went. Josie lunged for it instinctively. At the same moment Billy threw his arm out. His cast hit Josie’s face. She reeled, falling into the chair behind her.

The next moments were nothing more than a blink of an eye, and yet they crawled painfully by as Josie watched Deputy Price and Detective Montoya subdue Billy but not quiet him. The room filled up. A nurse with beautiful hands rushed in, bending like an athlete, discarding the IV tubing even as she sterilized Billy’s arm. Billy threw her back. An orderly slapped restraints on the boy’s arms, tying him to the bed frame. The nurse injected him, and Josie’s stomach turned.

Her hands went to her ears, her eyes shut. She was back in that mountain hut, restrained, drugged, and terrified. She not only understood Billy’s fear, she had lived it. But the other part of her psyche leapt forward to a stronger place where survival mode took precedence. Josie Bates was fashioning her argument for a judge, a jury, the press, anyone who would listen.