Eyewitness (Thriller/Legal Thriller - #5 The Witness Series) (The Witness Series #5) (27 page)

He dialed Faye.

“Hey, it’s me. Have you heard from Josie?”

Faye told him she hadn’t then asked, “We’re still on for tonight, right?”

“We are,” Archer said, hoping he and Faye weren’t making the right call. “See you tonight.”

He pocketed his phone when he opened the car door and saw the book he had taken from Billy’s backpack. He grabbed it and went back to Ante.

“One last thing,” Archer said. “Do you know what this is? Or someone who can translate it?”

Ante put his hand out and touched the worn book reverently.

“No need to translate, my friend. That is the Kunan. That is the holy book. The book of rules. That is the law.”

***

Judge Gayle Lynds, presiding judge of family court, had a penchant for chocolate covered almonds. Knowing that she could not be trusted to be moderate, she never kept a bowl on her desk. Instead, she put a bowl in the clerk’s office down the hall which forced her to get up, think about what she was doing, and decide if she really should have a handful of chocolate covered almonds. The answer, after minimal consideration, was always yes. That meant at a specific time each morning and afternoon she would head to the clerk’s office for a candy fix.

To get there, she passed three chambers, one of which was that of Judge Christopher Healy. Although he had not specifically thought to corral her on her quest for candy, he was happy to see her and motioned her in. Actually, happy was the wrong word. Grateful might have been a more appropriate adjective.

“Come here. I want you to take a look at this.”

Judge Healy replayed the Montoya’s DVD of Rosa and Billy. He did so twice. Gayle raised a shoulder.

“I’ve seen worse. We both have.” She pulled up a chair. “What’s got your judicial panties in a knot?”

Healy tossed the remote onto his desk. “That’s the kid involved in the Hermosa Beach thing. I’m trying to decide what to do with him. Newton wants him in county jail even though he hasn’t been charged, county counsel wants him with a family even though we’re not sure if he’s violent.”

“Did you have a workup done?” Gayle asked.

“Yeah. Inconclusive.”

“If you’re thinking that tape is reason to incarcerate him, I’d think again. That’s a little boy going after someone with little boy fists. Get a current tape that shows the big boy in all his teenage glory doing the same thing and you might have cause to put him away.”

Gayle waited. She wanted her chocolate covered almonds, but she was presiding judge. If one of her judge’s had a problem it was her problem. Finally, Christopher Healy told her what was really bothering him.

“We’ve got the feds, we’ve got the D.A., we’ve got an immigrant community, immigration and naturalization services. Christ, every damn agency’s kitchen sink is thrown in to this thing. If I make the wrong call and that kid is violent, I’m going to take it on the chin if I place him in a low security situation; if he’s not and something happens to him in lock-up, I’m in trouble with the watchdog groups. I’m too close to retirement to have any controversy now.”

Gayle nodded. She bit her lower lip. Healy was right. He was between a rock and a hard place.

“We all know we try to do what’s best for each case, but sometimes circumstances narrow our options. Look,” she said, adjusting her expression into one of sincere regret that her counsel had to be of the practical sort. “I know you’re a good guy. We’re all good guys, but let’s get real. It’s just one kid and he’s old enough to watch his butt. We can’t save ‘em all, Chris. That’s just the goal, not the reality. I wouldn’t agonize over this.”

“I guess,” he agreed.

“So, if we concur on that point, then we have to ask ourselves, what is the prime objective?”

Chris looked at her, waiting to be told what the prime objective was.

“The prime objective is not to end up with any more dead bodies, right? And, to mitigate the circumstances under which a dead body might appear. Concurrently, one must protect an excellent judicial career. If something goes wrong, the public must see that you have given weight to all options in terms of protecting both the kid and the public, erring on the side of protecting the public. Greater good and all that.” She waved a well-manicured hand. “If there is one chance in hell that kid is a killer, you’ve got to put him where there’s the least chance he can cause anymore problems while keeping him safe until the cops and the D.A. get their act together.”

“That’s the point, Gayle. Where?”

“Oh Chris. Chris,” she chuckled. “It’s so obvious?”

Healy was feeling like a dolt. He looked at her again. Looked hard. It took about thirty seconds for the light to dawn. When it did, Chris Healy knew what he had to do. On top of that, it was a decision he could live with.

When she left, Gayle Lynds figured she had earned her chocolate covered almonds: Chris Healy was pleased, county counsel would be pleased, the public would be pleased. The only one who might not be so happy was the kid, but that’s why judges got the big bucks. They had to make the tough calls.

***

Just as Judge Healy was walking back into the courtroom, Wendy Sterling was tooling toward Mike Montoya’s desk. Just as Judge Healy was about to deliver a ruling that would surprise everyone in the courtroom, Wendy Sterling was about to deliver news that really surprised no one once they thought about it.

“Mike. I’ve got the registration on the gun.”

Mike stood up and went to the white board. He wouldn’t choose the color of marker to use until she gave him the news.

“It belonged to Oi.”

Mike picked up the green marker and wrote GUN with an arrow back to Oi’s name.

“He couldn’t shoot himself in the back.” Mike turned toward Wendy. Her grin broadened. “I’ve got the lab on it. Stand by.”

She turned on her heel but before she was more than a few steps away, Mike called after her.

“Good work, Wendy.”

“Thanks, Montoya.”

“Are you about ready?”

Josie knocked on Hannah’s bedroom door, heard an affirmative, and figured that meant five more minutes. Josie waited on the patio with Max, arms crossed, as much for warmth as reassurance. She was still shaken by Judge Healy’s ruling. The only saving grace was that Rita Potter had agreed Josie could tell Billy in the morning – which meant she’d have to tell Hannah tonight.

“I’m ready.”

Josie turned. Hannah was standing on the patio looking like she belonged on Fifth Avenue instead of in Hermosa Beach. The front of her hair was braided and wrapped turban-like over the crown of her head while the rest of it fell almost to her waist in a cascade of curls and kinks. Chandelier earrings with stones the color of her eyes skimmed her shoulders. An oversized turtleneck framed her face and the winter white wool offset her dark skin. Her leggings and boots were tar black and shiny.

“I should have dressed up.” Josie looked down at her jeans, her cowboy boots, and her purple sweater that covered her to the fingertips

“Archer won’t kick you out of bed for eating crackers,” Hannah said as she walked to the gate while Josie put the dog inside and locked the door.

“Sometimes you could just pretend to be a kid,” Josie said.

“Compared to what most say, that was pretty mild,” Hannah answered as they started to walk.

Heavy clouds hung over the shore and the surf was kicking up. Josie’s hair ruffled in the wind and Hannah’s swirled over her shoulders and back again.

“It feels like a storm is coming again. But it won’t be as bad as the last one.” Josie stuck her hands into her pockets while she made small talk.

“Nothing could be as bad as the last one.”

Hannah made small talk, too, knowing that what happened in court wasn’t good. Josie had come home and immediately taken Max off without bothering to check on her. When she didn’t come back right away, Hannah ventured out and saw Josie standing at the end of the street, keeping watch as if hoping something good would sail in from the horizon. Now, walking with Josie, Hannah knew there was no ship coming in.

“Billy’s going to be placed, isn’t he?” Hannah asked.

“I was going to tell you over dinner.”

“Is he at least going with a family?”

“No,” Josie answered.

Hannah stopped walking. Josie turned to face her. They were in front of one of the original beach houses. It was painted green, and a fisherman’s net full of dried starfish was hung from the patio wall. Three surfboards were propped in one corner. Inside, a man was fixing dinner while a big screen TV flickered and flashed. He had long ago stopped worrying about who might be looking in. A handful of people ran and biked on the path. In the distance they could hear music from Hennessy’s. Billy should have been with them on a night like this. That’s what Josie was thinking when she faced Hannah.

“He’s going to jail,” Hannah whispered.

Josie shook her head. “The judge ordered him held on psychiatric watch.”

Hannah whispered: “Where?”

“County.”

“That’s a criminal psyche hold.”

“I’m sorry.” Josie turned and started to walk. Hannah came along side of her and touched her arm.

One…

Three…

Five….

Then she took Josie’s sweater in her fingertips and drew close.

“He’s not crazy, Josie.”

“I know.” Josie’s hand covered Hannah’s. “The judge didn’t want to take any chances.”

“It’s because he thinks Billy hurt Rosa. That’s it, isn’t it? The judge doesn’t want to be the one to let him free, just in case.”

“That’s part of it. But it’s not jail, Hannah. It could have been jail.”

“It’s worse,” she muttered, letting go of Josie. “So what happens now?”

“We wait. We see. It’s a safe place.”

“Safe for who?” Hannah snapped.

“Everyone. Even Billy,” Josie assured her.

“Does he know yet?”

Josie shook her head. “I’m going to tell him in the morning. I don’t think you should see him. It will just make things harder.”

“How could it be any harder?” she demanded.

“It couldn’t,” Josie admitted. “I am so sorry. This ruling came out of left field. But he’s a minor. All the records will be sealed. This isn’t going to affect his future.”

“He’ll know someone thought he was crazy,” Hannah muttered.

“He’ll get over it.”

“The way I got over people thinking I’m a murderer?” Hannah challenged.

“I can’t help what people think, and I can only do my best.”

Josie blessed the dark. She didn’t want Hannah to see that she was ashamed she had failed Billy. She walked on, wishing she hadn’t promised to meet Archer for dinner. Then again, a down hour or two might be the best for all of them.

Josie hadn’t gone more than three feet when she felt Hannah’s hand again. This time she wasn’t touching or pulling; this time her arm laced through Josie’s.

“It will be okay,” Hannah assured her. Josie nodded, reached for the door, and opened it.

“We won’t stay long. We can talk when we get ho-”

“Surprise!”

Josie stopped so suddenly that Hannah ran into her. Fifty people grinned at them, laughed, and waved at Josie. The ceiling was strung with white crepe paper and gold colored cardboard stars and wedding rings. Faye was clapping hardest of all, calling out her congratulations. Archer stood beside her but broke away to take Josie in his arms.

“We thought you’d never get here, babe.” He held her close and whispered in her ear. “Faye’s been planning this forever. You okay with it?”

Cheek to cheek, he felt her nod and when he held her away he saw that her eyes glistened. The last few days had been hard on her, but this minute the hardship was forgotten.

“A bridal shower? Really?”

Archer nodded. It was so un-Josie and yet …

And yet it wasn’t.

She pulled him with her as she waded into the crowd, accepting congratulations, leaning down to hug the old lady who ran the hat store, giving a kiss to the mayor who was the worst volleyball player on the beach. She exclaimed over the table filled with gifts wrapped every which way from fancy gold paper to plastic shopping bags. On top of the pile was a volleyball inscribed with a Hawaiian wish for happiness and Josie and Archer’s names. She picked it up, twirled it on one finger while the bartender worked furiously and servers laid a spread on the banquet table.

Billy was forgotten. Even Hannah was forgotten. This time belonged to Josie and Archer and that was just the way of the world. No human being could live forever in the shadowy land of worry or carry the burden of righteousness every waking moment – not even Josie.

“Hey, Hannah!” Burt limped her way with a glass in his hand. “You need to have something to toast with.”

“Thanks.” She took the plastic wine glass filled with pomegranate juice and sat on a stool near the bar. He swung up and sat beside her.

“You’re not mad we didn’t tell you, are you?”

“No.”

“You are,” Burt teased. “Don’t be. Archer didn’t know until yesterday because we had to ask him if he thought it was okay to go ahead without Billy.”

“It’s okay, really. Billy would have wanted you to. He was pretty excited about Archer and Josie getting married,” Hannah said as her eyes followed Josie.

“How about you?” Burt gave her a nudge.

“Yeah, I’m happy.”

Hannah meant it because she was in awe of what she was witnessing: soul mates, a true partnership, love, and respect. Despite all the people in it, the world really did revolve around those two people.

“Everyone needs someone who’s there just for them.” Burt put his elbows back on the bar and beamed. “Yep, that’s what everyone needs. Know what I mean?”

“I do, Burt.”

Hannah barely heard him wax poetic about love while she waited for Josie to look her way. When that finally happened, Josie’s eyes sparked brighter, her smile widened, her chin lifted, and Hannah was warmed by the attention. She made a move to get off the barstool, but in the next second the tall woman bent down to hear yet another well-wisher’s story. Josie threw her head back and laughed. She looked at Archer who was the center of his own group. Josie mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Faye, and the older woman mouthed back ‘you’re welcome’. Then Josie Bates raised her hand to motion Hannah over to celebrate with them only to see that the barstool was empty.

Hannah was gone.