Nodding, she sits at the seat next to mine. “Alexis, I wanted to ask you something before I left. Is that okay? Or should I wait till tomorrow?”
“Oh, no – that’s fine. I mean, yeah, what do you have?”
She pushes a coil of her dark hair behind her ear and slides a document toward me. “All the victims stated they were taken to the same bar by Doctor Bates—” she points to the highlighted bar in question “—right before he dropped them off at their homes.”
I raise my eyebrows, prompting her on. “Yes, that’s right. The bartender confirmed their statements.”
“But later, when the attacks occurred, they’re certain it was Doctor Bates. Why?”
I shake my head, the long day wearing on my mental capability. I pull my notes from my binder. “The attacks happened within fifteen minutes of the time the victims arrived home,” I say. “Okay, here. They all corroborate that they recognized his cologne and the sound of his voice.”
She widens her eyes. “But couldn’t that be circumstantial? Or even a coincidence? How about someone at the bar, who knows Doctor Bates, like the bartender—”
“I see where you’re going, and it’s not a bad theory,” I say, turning to face her. “But Chase – I mean, Mister Larkin already interviewed the bartender. He was seen at the bar at the time of all the attacks.”
She sighs. “There goes that angle.”
I smile at her. “You’re not reaching, Sophie. Giving the jury another suspect is a strong case. Only in this particular case, we don’t have the bar as a common denominator to connect this victim. She was never taken to that bar, or even on a date—” I stop short, looking down at my notes.
“What is it?” she asks.
“The common denominator,” I repeat, finding what I’m seeking. “It’s not the bar that links this victim to the others, it’s what they stated—the manner in which they were attacked. Their attacker forced them to perform sexual scenarios which had only been discussed on the dark fetish website. So not the cologne, or his voice, or the other similarities.” I look up, lost in my thoughts. “The site.”
Sophie digs a paper out of her folder. “Was the metadata ever conclusive either way?”
She’s thinking the same thing as me. “I don’t know, but that doesn’t matter, not if it can be suggested Bates’ account to that site was hacked.” I glance at her. “Worth a try to see what the partners think.”
Her smile twists. “Gotta love the digital age. Anyone, anywhere can become a suspect. It’s actually scary.”
I nod, agreeing more than she realizes. It’s an angle for doubt, sure—but it’s also a very real possibility. It’s not completely implausible that he’s innocent, and that there is another suspect out there. Someone who’s been watching him closely, linked to the same dark fetish website.
“Thanks, Sophie,” I say, standing and gathering my binders. “That was an excellent brainstorm.”
I head toward my office, my attention on my phone as I type out a text to Chase. He’ll probably have a reason to combat our theory based on different ways the prosecution could counter, but I just feel strongly about it—like it has to be investigated.
My shoulder knocks into someone, and I hear a, “Sorry, ma’am,” which draws my full attention. I look up into the eyes of the blonde from The Firm—the one in the alcove that night.
She bows her head, apologizing again as she walks away. I stare after her, about to tell her she doesn’t have to call me ma’am…when Wells appears before me. I take a step back.
Silently, he places his finger beneath his chin and raises it, a sign for me to lift my head. And then he leaves.
The vibration of my phone awakens me from my thoughts and I shake my head.
Chase: Meeting with the partners. Have Jefferson take you to my place
I smile at that, then start toward my office, passing the other partners as they advance to Chase's office with my head held a little higher. I’ve been dreading seeing the partners since that night, but it was a useless fear. I belong to Chase. They can’t touch me.
18
Vitiate
Chase
If this were a chess match, the game would be called on account of a draw. As I’ve proven before, however, there are no draws among the partners. A decision is always made.
It’s simple logic: leave no room for debate.
And even though I welcome a healthy debate…that’s not what transpired in the meeting this afternoon. No, that could be more easily compared to a bloodbath, each partner throwing his weight around, fists raised, staking their claim on my client.