“Bronson wants you here right away.”
“Why? What happened?” Jury selection had been a complicated, contentious process—the lawyers faced not just the problem of finding jurors who didn’t have a strong opinion about Simon Sito, but of finding ones not likely to be intimidated by the presence of the Destructor in the courtroom. It was over now, a jury had been seated, and the trial was due to start. Celia worried that something had happened to stall that.
“He wouldn’t say, he just said he wants to see you immediately. When can you get here?”
She looked at her watch, looked out the window to the route the bus was taking. She was going the wrong way. “Give me half an hour.”
“You can’t get here sooner?” The guy sounded like he was having a seizure. Bronson probably held him personally responsible for not being able to teleport her to his office instantly.
She hung up on him, then called work to tell them she’d be late.
Exactly a half hour later, she knocked on the door of Bronson’s office.
“Who is it?” His voice was rough, exhausted.
“Celia West.”
“Get in here, close the door.” She did so, shutting it quietly behind her, not willing to let go of the doorknob. She wanted to be able to escape.
“Look at this.” Bronson, sitting behind his desk, offered her a sheet of paper.
She stepped forward to take the page from him, moving softly, gently, as if that would calm Bronson and make whatever was wrong less terrible. “What is it?”
“The witnesses the defense wants to call. Read it over.”
The page held a list of about a dozen names, in alphabetical order. Mostly doctors, testifying to Sito’s insanity. The very last name, though, was Celia West.
She flushed, her cheeks burning. She felt like she was going to faint. Or throw up. She set the page down and dropped her arms to her sides, so Bronson wouldn’t see her hands shake.
“Why would they do that?” she said. “What could they possibly—”
“Come on, you know. They’re going to discredit you, that’s what this is about. Discredit every piece of evidence you’ve touched by blowing your story wide open.”
“They can’t, the record’s sealed—” Her voice was shaking, and she wished it wouldn’t.
“They can. Yeah, it’s sealed, but you can bet Sito told his lawyers all about you. All they have to do is bring it up. Even if the testimony gets thrown out, it’s still there. What was it you said? They’re using you to get to your parents.”
Mechanically, she shook her head. She’d leave town. She’d go into hiding. Get Dr. Mentis to induce a coma so she’d sleep through the whole trial—“I can’t do it, I can’t get up there and let them do this.”
“I’ve already lodged a complaint. That’s why we get to look at all this stuff beforehand. You were one of Sito’s more prominent victims. That was what made the papers, and no judge would expect you to face that guy in court. But I thought you should get a heads-up. If this leaks to the press at all, someone else will dig up your record like I did. Consider yourself warned.”
She couldn’t be Celia West without that record, without her parents, without the publicity. She should have figured that out by now. “Thank you.”
White-faced, still shaking, she left and tried to have a normal day.
By midday, someone had leaked the defense’s witness list. It came out in special news flashes all afternoon.
Everyone had an opinion about it. Most of the opinions expressed outrage that the defense would stoop so low. The thought was the defense was going to use what Sito had done to Celia as yet more evidence of his insanity. But they didn’t know the truth.
Mark and Analise, in separate phone calls, told her that no judge would make her testify.
“They can’t do it,” Mark said with inspiring vehemence. “That’s ludicrous. If anything, you should be testifying for the prosecution. Why isn’t Bronson putting you on the stand?”
She couldn’t tell him. She just kept saying, “I don’t know,” and sounding scared. He threatened to rush to her office and take her home then and there, but she talked him out of it. He promised to bring her Thai food for supper instead.
When Analise offered to bring her supper, Celia had to turn her down. “Mark’s bringing food.”
“Hm, good for him. Wait a minute, he’s a cop. Can’t he make the judge keep you from testifying or something?”