“Really?”
“Mmhmm.”
I propped myself up on my elbow. “I have court on Monday. It’s the hearing for Hudson to see about getting his case reopened. I can’t reschedule. But maybe I could come out mid week?”
“Sure. What time is the hearing?”
“Ten.”
“All right. I’ll see if I can switch it to Wednesday.”
“LA, huh? I’ve never been.”
Ross grinned. “Well, pack a swimsuit and some over-sized shades, baby, you’re leaving the igloo life behind.”
“Woohoo!”
He laughed and kissed me again. “So, this favor?”
“Right, right. I need you to come with me and sign some autographs.”
“Autographs?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “You’ll see when we get there.”
Ross continued to give me a skeptical eye but agreed, and after a little coaxing, I got him out of bed.
About an hour later, we arrived at the DA’s office. After the failed meeting last week with Mr. O’Brian, my boss, Mr. Bennington, agreed to let me use our technicians if I needed any help getting video footage or tracking down phone records, bank statements, or other techy info. I filled Ross in on what I’d found on the video footage I’d gotten from Lacey as we drove over.
“So, you think he went back to get the backpack?”
I nodded. “And if he did, and we can catch him on camera, it’ll prove he wasn’t there at the time of the attack. On top of that, when I went to re-visit the victim, I got him to agree to testify that he’s no longer sure that his original identification was correct.”
“Wow! That’s pretty huge, isn’t it?”
“I hope so. It was a few years ago, but when I talked to him to confirm the times and places, he kind of broke down. He’s felt guilty all these years, like a nagging feeling that maybe he’d made a mistake.”
“Shit.”
“Right?”
We started down a long, beige hallway. “You really think this is going to work?” Ross asked out of the side of his mouth.
“It better.”
We were shown to a small room that held two cubicles that split off two separate workstations. The walls were plastered with Knight’s posters, and I smiled as I remembered the deal I’d struck with them the day before. The two techs were gathered at one of the computer monitors, but they both looked up when we entered the room. “Hello,” I started. “As promised, this is Ross Leverette. Ross, this is Jeremy Plant and Mike Daniels. They do the techy work here.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Ross said, extending his hand to each of them in turn.
Both men’s mouths dropped open and they looked star-struck. My hope started to rise again. “So, do we have a deal? I bring you Ross and you give me what I need ASAP. Right?”
Mike nodded. “You got it!”
Ross grinned down at me as the two men went to work. “So, you’re just using me for my name now, huh?”
“Among other things,” I said, flashing him a sly wink.
One of the men cleared his throat and spun a monitor around. “Think you’re gonna wanna see this,” he said. We leaned in and the footage moved forward. Five minutes before the assault took place, the footage from a security camera across the street showed Hudson going through the front doors of the center and then leaving ten minutes later, backpack slung over his shoulders.”
I couldn’t speak for a long moment. It was right there, definitive proof that he’d had nothing to do with the attack happening blocks away. He’d been inside the center the entire time, retrieving the backpack he’d forgotten earlier.
“Wow, guys,” I breathed out a long exhale. “This is it. I can’t believe that kid has been in prison this long. Fucking Public Defender is a piece of crap.”
“Whoa, girl. You know that piece of crap still works here, right?” Mike said.
“Not for long.” I said while Ross and I gathered up evidence to get Hudson out of jail. “Thanks for this.”
“Where’s my autograph? It’ll be worth millions someday.” Jeremy pulled out a jersey and Ross signed it as promised.
24
Shelby
The day I’d been dreaming of was finally in front of me. Rayna and I were standing outside the courtroom where we’d go as soon as the previous session was dismissed. I’d present the new evidence I’d found and hope it was enough to get the judge to reexamine Hudson’s case, which would allow him to have a fair shot at a retrial.
“How are you feeling?” Rayna asked, squeezing my arm.
I jolted at her touch and quickly apologized. “Sorry, I’m just” I studied the worry lines etched around Rayna’s eyes. We were the same age, but these last few years had taken a toll on her and added years to her pretty face. “I’m ready to get started. That’s all.”
She gave a thin smile and nodded. “Me too,” she agreed, barely getting her voice above a whisper.
The bailiff appeared in the doorway of the courtroom and signaled for me to get ready. I sucked in a quick breath, threw my shoulders back, and swept my briefcase from the bench outside the door. A few minutes later, I was at the front table, seated beside Hudson, papers in hand, ready to speak as soon as the judge was seated. The doors at the back of the room opened, and I craned around to see Rayna and Hudson’s parents entering. Time had aged them too. My eyes darted to Rayna and realized that she’d had no idea they’d be there. I stiffened, waiting for an outburst, but instead, Rayna melted like a woman who’d been holding it all together for way too long on her own. She collapsed into her dad’s arms, the three of them shedding quiet tears and whispered greetings.