The Perfect Game (21 page)

Chapter Fifty-three

(Thursday, September 28)

The Defense called Dr. Scott Rankin as their next witness. Rankin had been a very well respected forensic pathologist working for the medical examiner's office in Chicago. He had since retired from that position and now consulted on high profile criminal cases.

Pratt spent the entire morning asking Dr. Rankin about the forensic testimony introduced by the Prosecution. No matter Pratt's question, Rankin offered a polished explanation replete with multisyllabic scientific terms that refuted the Prosecution's interpretation of the scientific evidence. He testified that Jake's DNA and blood could have gotten under Liz's fingernails during impassioned sex, the true killer might have worn gloves and a hat to avoid leaving behind evidence, somebody trained in medicine would be knowledgeable about how to avoid leaving DNA evidence behind at the scene, and so forth. Basically, Rankin provided several hours worth of testimony explaining why all of the evidence collected in this case could implicate Lauren.

When Pratt could think of no other questions that would enable Dr. Rankin to incriminate Lauren, he turned the witness over to the Prosecution.

Candace approached Rankin. “When was the last time you worked as a medical examiner?”

“I have consulted on dozens of cases over the past…”

“I'm so sorry,” Candace interrupted with a smile that appeared genuinely apologetic. “I think you must have misunderstood my question. The question is, when was the last time you were employed as a medical examiner?”

“I haven't worked as a medical examiner for twelve years, but I have…”

Candace interrupted so seamlessly that it hardly seemed rude. “Twelve years. And since that time, you've served as an expert witness in ninety-six legal cases, is that accurate?”

Dr. Rankin's chest puffed out a bit, “Yes, quite right.”

“And how many of those ninety-six times have you testified on behalf of the Prosecution?”

“The Prosecution uses government employees as their witnesses so I'm typically needed to testify for the Defense.”

“So out of ninety-six cases, how many of those did you testify for the Defense?”

“Again, the Prosecution usually…”

“I'm looking for a number here, Dr. Rankin. Half would be forty-eight? Was it forty-nine? Sixty? Eighty? How many?”

“I'm always called by the Defense.”

“Always? So in all ninety-six cases, you've testified for the Defense?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever turned down a case because you felt that the evidence implicated the accused?”

“That wouldn't be the only reason to turn down a case.”

“Yes or no, Dr. Rankin, have you ever turned down a case?”

“No, because I believe that every individual is entitled to defend themselves.”

“And to have you assist them in doing so?”

“No.”

“Right, they only get you if they can afford your extravagant fee, right?”

Judge Robles sustained Pratt's objection.

“Dr. Rankin, how much are you being paid to provide your opinion in this case?

“Thirty thousand dollars.”

“Thirty thousand dollars. And you have testified in ninety-six cases over the past twelve years. That sounds like a very nice income.”

“I don't make thirty thousand dollars for every case.”

“Oh, I know. Sometimes you make much more than that. I have no more questions for this
Defense
witness.”

Court adjourned for lunch.

Lauren was the first to arrive at the war room. As she flipped the light switch, several staffers from the prosecutor's office jumped up in the dark room, yelling “Surprise!” A big banner on one wall read “Happy Birthday.” Lauren's favorite sushi rolls lined platters on the big table along with a large birthday cake.

Tears welled uninvited in Lauren's eyes.

“Did you think we forgot?” Ryan asked her.

“I didn't expect you to know it was my birthday in the first place.”

“Don't you know who you're dealing with here?” Ryan joked. “I am one of the most widely recognized investigators in this entire country.” Due to his work on this trial, that statement was completely true. Lauren laughed at his expression of mock indignation.

The staffers, most of whom Lauren recognized from their work around the prosecutor's office, helped themselves to food and cake, wished Lauren a happy birthday, and gradually excused themselves. Soon, only Kyle, Candace, Ryan, and Lauren remained in the room.

The conversation soon returned to the trial. They enjoyed poking fun at Dr. Rankin, who was clearly more interested in lining his wallet than he was in the truth.

“Hey,” Ryan said. “We should all go out tonight to celebrate Lauren's birthday.”

“Absolutely.” Kyle agreed. “Unless Lauren already has plans for her birthday.”

“Huge plans.” Lauren said. “I have to work tonight.”

Lauren wished there was some way she could take them up on the offer. Between the trial and work, she had not gone out in ages. What had happened to that youthful girl who went out dancing with her friends? Ryan stepped out to return a phone call while Candace and Kyle continued to roast Pratt and Rankin. Lauren wondered if the Defense similarly enjoyed skewering the Prosecution team and could only assume they did. What did Jake have to say about her? Did the entire Defense team make fun of how easily she had fallen victim to his manipulation?

Lauren's cell phone vibrated inside her purse. Everybody that knew her, and even most people that did not, knew she spent her days attending the trial. She rarely received missed calls when she court was in session, though LaRhonda did occasionally text her in the middle of the trial to comment on the “crap” the Defense was trying to pull.

This text message was from Dr. Stone:
Happy Birthday. Take the night off and go have some fun. And that's an order.

Lauren smiled. Stone had a heart of gold, but she really doubted whether he remembered her first name, much less her birthday. Ryan tried to slip back into the room inconspicuously.

“Urgent phone call to Good Samaritan hospital?” Lauren asked him.

“I don't have any idea what you are talking about,” Ryan replied with a straight face.

“Stone just gave me the evening off out of the clear blue sky.”

“That's excellent news. And such good timing, too, on account of us all wanting to go out tonight to celebrate your birthday.”

“Well, I guess if I can't go to work and be surrounded by sucking chest wounds and disembowelments, hanging out with you guys will have to do.”

Lauren spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in court, but thinking about her first real evening out in months. She felt grateful to Ryan for recognizing her need to take an evening off. Despite the many hours they had spent together, they maintained a professional distance between them, like one of those invisible barriers that would deliver an electrical shock if you crossed it. Still, he probably wouldn't want to spend the evening out with Lauren, Candace, and Kyle if he had a girlfriend waiting for him, would he? Or had he invited her out for the evening out of a sense of obligation? Or worse, pity?

As Pratt spent the afternoon attempting to rehabilitate the credibility of Dr. Rankin, Lauren resolved to stop worrying about the reasons behind Ryan's actions and allow herself to enjoy the upcoming evening.

Chapter Fifty-four

(Thursday, September 28)

Kyle had proposed dancing at Myst, one of Scottsdale's trendiest nightclubs.

“Absolutely not,” Candace vetoed. “I'm all for celebrating Lauren's birthday, but we have to keep it under the radar. We do not need to be calling attention to ourselves right now.”

They settled on dinner at The Old Spaghetti Factory in downtown Phoenix. Candace and Kyle were returning to the war room to prep for court the next day, but would meet Ryan and Lauren at the restaurant at seven. After court, Ryan dropped Lauren at her apartment, promising to return to pick her up again at six-thirty.

“You don't have to drive all the way back here to get me. I
can
drive, you know.”

“This is your first day off in weeks. Who knows, maybe you'll want to cut loose and have a drink or something.”

As she walked to her apartment, she stopped to talk with the reporters loitering in her apartment parking lot. Keeping her promise to Candace that she would represent the family, Lauren offered her opinion about the day's proceedings, accusing Dr. Rankin of interpreting the data in a manner intended to favor the Defense.

The reporters thanked her for taking the time to comment. Several wished her a happy birthday as they packed up for the day and headed off to escape the excessive heat. Phoenix was experiencing an Indian summer and the high temperatures were still reaching the triple digits.

For the first time in ages, Lauren did not feel rushed. She stood under the shower nozzle enjoying the unfamiliar sensation of relaxation.

She took the time to flat-iron her long blond hair, which had a tendency to become unruly in the hot weather. Tonight it hung down her back in a sleek sheet. She applied makeup and picked out her favorite pair of jeans, a stylish T-shirt, and killer platform sandals. When she looked in the mirror, she recognized her old self.

The doorbell rang exactly at six-thirty. Did Ryan perfectly time his arrival or did he loiter outside waiting to ring her doorbell at the designated time? There was so much she hadn't figured out about him. When she opened the door, something about him was different. Had he gotten his hair cut? It took her a moment to realize this was the first time she had seen him in casual clothes. He wore trendy jeans and a closely fitting blue-green T-shirt, which matched the unusual color of his eyes and showcased his pecs and arms.

As they made their way to the car, Lauren was relieved to see the reporters were gone. “I gave them their sound bites on my way in.”

“Thank God. Candace is so paranoid that I figured I might need to meet you at the grocery store down the street to dodge the media. I'm glad the vultures have fled the scene, to use official police lingo.”

Surprise registered on Lauren's face when Ryan stopped beside a black Mazda RX-8 and unlocked the passenger door for her. “Yeah, this is my own car. I'm not driving the government-issued beast tonight.” The car was sleek and low to the ground; the interior smelled like new leather, pine trees, and the beach.

As Ryan drove down the freeway, they had a great view of the sunset. Huge thunderstorms in the distance glowed in Crayola shades of burnt sienna, razzle dazzle rose, and vivid violet over the White Tank Mountains.

“Another beautiful day in paradise,” Lauren said.

“True, but I wish it would rain already.”

“No kidding, it's time to put the soon into monsoon,” Lauren said, referring to the Valley's disappointing summer storm season, which had produced very little rain this year.

“Yeah, so far it's been a non-soon.”

“I must admit Arizona does have the most beautiful sunsets,” Lauren observed, and was reminded unpleasantly of a similar conversation she had with Jake the previous year.

“And the most amazing emergency room doctors.”

“Not to mention their world-famous police investigators.”

“I got a little something for you,” he said, handing her a small gift bag, which he pulled from the backseat area. The bag itself was gorgeously arranged. Silver gift bag with purple and green paisleys, matching tissue paper peeking out the top.

“Wow, check out this wrapping job. Did you do this yourself?”

“Of course I didn't. The woman at the shop put it together, but I did pick out the colors.”

“Thank you, it's exquisite.”

“It's more than a bag. You're supposed to open it.”

“You didn't have to do this,” she said, secretly pleased he had. This was the first, and perhaps the only, birthday gift she would receive this year. Liz had always spoiled Lauren on her birthdays, overcompensating for the absence of their parents.

“I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to. It's not the Hope Diamond like you got from you-know-who last year, but it reminded me of you.”

Lauren pulled the tissue out of the bag cautiously, reluctant to dismantle the lovely packaging. She pulled out a small heavy item, wrapped in more brightly colored tissue. She unwrapped it to reveal a small figurine of a bull carved out of dark stone. The bull was pawing one foot menacingly.

Lauren was touched by the meaningful memento. “Thank you very much. I love it.”

“You are welcome very much…” he hesitated as if to say something more, but no other words came out.

The restaurant wasn't much from the outside, but inside, it had high wooden ceilings, hardwood floors, and antique furniture. They joined Kyle and Candace, who were already at the bar drinking dirty martinis.

Surreptitious glances from other customers were followed by furious whispering. The bartender approached with four shot glasses. “The finest Patrón from an admirer of your work,” he said as he passed out the drinks. They each licked salt off the back of their hands, slammed the shots, and chased them with lemon wedges. The tequila burned down Lauren's throat.

She was relieved when they were called for seating so they could escape the curious stares from strangers. The hostess led them to a cozy table in the back corner of the restaurant. Several of the tables had been constructed from old antique bed frames, the headboard having been turned into bench seating on one side of the table and the footboard making a complimentary bench on the opposite side. This particular table was framed by an ornate wooden bed frame, with both ends being high enough to afford them considerable privacy. The men stood chivalrously while the ladies scooted in on either side, Kyle sitting beside Candace and Ryan beside Lauren.

“No shop talk,” Candace warned even though the restaurant was noisy with clanking silverware and the constant chatter of other diners.

“Of course not,” Ryan said. “This is a birthday celebration after all.”

“We should all share stories about our most memorable birthdays,” Kyle suggested.

“Excellent idea,” Lauren agreed. “You go first.”

“Okay,” Kyle said. “On my twenty-first birthday, I went to Las Vegas for a weekend of debauchery with several of my fraternity brothers. It was one long binge of drinking, gambling, and strip clubs.”

Candace rolled her eyes. “Vegas for your twenty-first birthday. How cliché.”

“I suppose you have something better,” he pressed. “What was your most memorable birthday?”

“Believe it or not, my mother was a very proper Southern belle and she was determined that I would be a debutante. She planned an elaborate sweet sixteen birthday party for me and invited all of my father's clients to our home for a formal banquet. She made me wear the most god-awful pink fluffy dress you can imagine and dragged me off to her beauty parlor, where they yanked my hair into some elaborate updo with a tiara. A goddamned tiara. The party was going exactly according to my mother's plan until it was time to serve the cake, a three-tiered pink frosted monstrosity. My mother was furious when they couldn't find me to blow out the candles.”

Candace was interrupted by the waitress who arrived to take their order. Lauren was looking forward to the spaghetti with mizithra cheese sauce. Kyle ordered the chicken parmigiana and they all groaned when Candace ordered a salad.

“I have to watch my girlish figure. I'm drinking my calories tonight.” She ordered a full bottle of cabernet.

When the waitress got to Ryan, he said, “I'd like the
espagueti testiculos
, please.”

“I'm sorry,” the bubbly young waitress said. “I don't actually speak Italian.”

“I'll take the spaghetti and meatballs,” he said as the others tried to suppress giggles.

“So finish your story, Candace,” Kyle reminded her as the waitress cantered off. “Where were you when you were supposed to be blowing out sixteen candles?”

“Outside playing paintball with a bunch of the boys.”

“In your pink party dress?” Lauren gasped.

“Hell no. I ditched that thing as soon as my mom got distracted by the cocktails. There was a great stretch of woods out back of our house so some of the boys snuck over their paintball gear. At first, they refused to let me play, but I threatened to snitch to their parents until they relented. I overheard them talking about how they would take me out first and then continue without me.”

“Somehow, I'm guessing that didn't happen,” Kyle said.

“You know me well. I had seven confirmed kills before I captured the other team's flag. Of course, knowing the lay of the land was to my advantage, but I was also very wily. Even back then.”

The wine arrived and Candace poured full glasses for everybody, except for Ryan who declined because he was driving.

“Okay, who's up next?” Kyle asked.

“Of course, my fondest birthday memories are from my childhood when my parents were still alive,” Lauren said. A familiar, uncomfortable hush fell over the table and Lauren hurried on, “but my most memorable birthday was my twenty-first birthday. Liz flew us out to New Orleans to celebrate. We went sightseeing by day and down to Bourbon Street at night. We drank the famous hurricanes at Pat O'Brien's, which were too strong for me. So I figured I'd order something tastier for my next drink. Have you heard of a mint julep?”

“You did not,” Candace gasped.

“Yep, I'm afraid I did. I imagined it would be green and frothy and mint-flavored.”

“I bet that was an unpleasant surprise,” Candace said.

“Why? What's a mint julep?” Kyle asked.

“As best as I could figure, it consisted of about eight ounces of whiskey with a mint leaf on the top.” Lauren responded with a shudder.

“Lauren, you exaggerate,” Candace teased. “It's only seven ounces of whiskey mixed with an ounce of sugar water with a mint leaf on top.”

“Needless to say, I have never been so drunk in my whole life!”

“You must've been miserable the next day,” Ryan said.

“Not exactly,” Lauren said. “I got a brilliant idea.”

“As so many drunken ideas are,” Kyle quipped.

“I figured if I didn't go to sleep that night, I couldn't wake up with a hangover in the morning.”

“And that worked?” Candace asked skeptically.

“Sort of. I stayed up all night and the next morning, we took a streetcar down to the zoo and a paddleboat back.”

“So, you didn't get sick?” Kyle asked.

“I think I was actually still drunk. I found the animals at the zoo very amusing. The following morning, we got up early to catch our flight home and, believe it or not, I was hung-over that morning.”

“Two days later?” Ryan asked.

“Yep. When we got on the plane, the first thing I did was pull out the airsickness bag and clutch it pathetically. The man sitting on my other side took one look at me and said, ‘Oh great.' But Liz piped up and said, ‘Give her a break. She has a serious case of the weekend flu.'”

They all laughed.

“Okay, your turn,” Lauren said to Ryan in order to break the quiet that had settled over the table as the others reflected on the witty sister Lauren had lost.

“Okay. I do have a good birthday story, but it wasn't my birthday,” Ryan started. “I was six at the time, but I still remember this like it was yesterday. It was my brother's first birthday so my mom had him strapped into his high chair. She put the cake on the table in front of him and she was scrounging through the kitchen looking for a birthday candle.

“‘Let's use this,' my dad suggested as he discovered a leftover Fourth of July firecracker in one of the kitchen drawers.

“Of course he was kidding, but my mom went right along with him. She said, ‘Great idea, stick it in.'

“My dad didn't want to be the one to cave so he plopped the firecracker into the cake and told my mom, ‘Okay, bring the matches.'

“Not one to be outdone, my mother calmly fetched the matches and handed them to my father. He struck a match and lit the firecracker, eyeballing my mother the whole time. My parents continued to watch each other, waiting to see who would blow it out first, when we all realized it was going to go off.

“We all ducked under the table, but of course Jason wasn't going anywhere because he was still strapped in his highchair. Kaboom! There was cake everywhere, including all over Jason, who proceeded to happily lick it off his face and arms. He didn't even cry.”

The others just sat there disbelieving. “You're pulling our legs, right?” Lauren finally asked.

“No, I'm dead serious. We were still finding bits of cake in odd places weeks later.” He grinned. “Now that was a memorable birthday.”

The wine flowed. For the first time, they were not discussing the details of the trial. There was no shortage of funny stories as Candace shared stories from trials, Ryan from police investigations, Lauren from hospital patients, and Kyle from law school. Several inappropriate jokes were made about the size of Ryan's meatballs.

The waitress came back to check on them so frequently they concluded she was interested in either Ryan or Kyle. “Could be both, you never know with these sweet young things anymore,” Candace remarked.