4

Chapter Four

“Ready to head to the courthouse?” Edward paused in her doorway. She’d been there since about seven and had already put the cases and files in order and begun to get her schedule organized.

She stood, grabbing her suit jacket and sliding it on before hoisting the strap of her bag onto a shoulder. “Yes. Thank you.”

Edward, Peter and Justin had all offered to let her come along as they went to the courthouse, and she’d eagerly accepted. It was good to get to know what their schedules looked like when they were working and to be introduced to people that way. They tended to see you as a colleague that way instead of perpetually the new girl.

Edward was the only one in the firm who currently practiced criminal law so he also offered to take her to the jail. Given the firm’s location and the types of cases she’d most likely get, she’d end up at one of the local county lockups and some of the outlying city jails. Occasionally she’d need to go to one of the over thirty prisons in the state. But she knew a few of them pretty well already, especially the Georgia Diagnostic Classification State Prison where her father had been on death row for fourteen years.

As they walked, Edward motioned across the street. “How about you let me take you to lunch afterward? It’s meatloaf sandwich day at the Sands, and chances are better than even that there’ll be cherry pie.”

“I haven’t been there in ages.” The diner had dominated Main Street in Petal since before her parents had been born. It had also been the chief competition to her parents’ family-style diner and café out on the main highway.

So many memories greeted her every single day she woke up back home in Petal. Which seemed stupid when she’d been back to visit at least twice a year since she left. It wasn’t like she’d totally left it behind.

Edward’s eyes went kind. “We can go elsewhere if you like.”

“No. No I’m fine. It’s not like I can avoid going to diners my whole life. Anyway, diners are the best source for gravy and gravy-related products. Like I’m giving that up?”

At the end of the block, they paused at a hail for Edward.

Edward smiled as he turned to face the living incarnation of every single hot-cop fantasy she’d ever had.

“Hey, son.”

Edward hugged his oldest son and turned to Caroline. “Caroline Mendoza, this is my son Shane. He was recently elected police chief here after running the sheriff’s office for years. Shane, this is Caroline, though you might know her from school.”

He shook her hand as he gave her a once-over with cop eyes. Albeit gorgeous ones. She was used to cops looking at her like that, especially if they were just meeting her in her official capacity. Over time she’d made friends with a lot of the cops she dealt with after they got to know her and realized she wanted justice just as much as they did. She was fair, though, without vanity she could say she was damned good at her job. But she didn’t cheat or lie to win, and despite its failings, she did believe in the system.

Shane Chase was a cop, and she was not only a defense attorney, but new to his town and to his dad’s firm. He’d suspect her until she proved she was worthy of his trust, and she was all right with that.

“I think I was too far ahead of her in school to have been there at the same time.” Shane turned his attention back to Caroline, and while it was clear he was still going to keep an eye on her, his expression was friendly. “Welcome back to Petal, Caroline. How are my dad and uncle treating you?”

“It’s only been a few hours, but so far I’ve gotten a lunch invitation out of it so I can’t complain.”

“We’re on our way to the courthouse. I figured I’d toss Caroline into the deep end and let her handle some bail hearings.”

Which was news to her, but okay then. She’d done bail hearings so many times that even in a new jurisdiction she should have no problems.

They headed up the front steps and into the large foyer of the courthouse. “We’re on the second floor. That’s where they bring over the non-flight risks from the jail. We’ll have hearings on the three cases I put on your desk this morning.”

This had been a test of her preparedness. She’d read those case files before he’d even arrived at the office. It was easy to forget that Edward Chase was an incredibly accomplished man because he was charming and jovial.

But beneath that exterior he was a little bit of a shark. It made her like him even more.

“Depending on the judge I think Reggie Miller and Marvin Wilson should be fine. Abel Carson though, this is his third arrest on receiving stolen goods. From what I understand of this judge, she doesn’t take too kindly to repeat offenders. Even when their daddy owns the car lot and the feed store in town.”

Edward grinned like she’d just won first prize.

She dived in and handled the hearings. Edward didn’t say much after he introduced her to the judge. She met with her clients, and maybe two of the three wouldn’t be back for a repeat performance if she could get them out of trouble.

After wrapping things up at the courthouse, they’d headed over to the Sands for lunch. Once they’d put in their orders and two tall glasses of iced tea had been set before them, Edward raised his in Caroline’s direction. “You did a good job today. Glad to have you on board.”

She snorted but raised her glass back. “Thanks.”

“So, tell me something, Caroline.”

“What’s that?”

“Your daddy was found guilty and he lost three appeals. Why do you still think he’s innocent?”

She preferred direct people in her life and Edward Chase was no exception. Better he ask than she try to figure out what she could talk about and in how much detail.

“Where was the motive? Why would a happily married man with no criminal history and not a single whisper of trouble in his marriage suddenly violently murder his wife? They had nothing. The only physical evidence was paper thin. His DNA at the scene? A diner he was in daily? He had no defensive wounds. If he’d have stabbed her forty-two times, how did he not nick himself a single one? Where was the murder weapon? There was so much evidence they just never followed up on. There were footprints outside the back door. Three sizes bigger than my father’s. There was blood, three drops of it, from my mother’s body to the back door. Not the same type as my father’s. They never even ran a DNA test.”

“So why arrest your daddy then? Why put him on trial? Why find him guilty?”

“Sure, because you and I both know people never ever get railroaded for stuff they didn’t do.”

“No shortcuts, Ms. Mendoza.” He wagged his finger.

“Look, here’s this guy, an outsider in a small town. The beautiful blonde former cheerleader and homecoming queen is horribly murdered.” Her jaw hardened for a moment as she thought about her mother, about how truly lovely her mom had been. Caroline had seen the crime-scene photos, the ones her father’s family had refused to let her look at until she’d turned eighteen and gotten the case file herself.

Her mother had been broken. Stabbed and bloodied. Hanks of her hair had been cut off with a knife, probably the same one that had killed her.

“They come in, she’s been horribly killed. My father is holding her and he’s in a fugue state. He can’t answer their questions. He’s covered in her blood. It’s a neat package, and while the sheriff you have now is certainly no slouch, the one Petal had then wasn’t going to turn away from an easy answer. A Mexican guy comes in, takes their golden beauty and kills her. He told the court during my dad’s trial that that’s what people like Enrique do. I’ll never forget that as long as I live.

“My father made an easy target. Add lazy police work and an overloaded system, and you got a conviction. He had a decent defense. Hell, his attorney even helped me appeal on inadequate defense. The other procedural stuff?” She shrugged her shoulders. “I used to think all I had to say was he didn’t do it and they’d let him go. It’s what drove me to law school. And then I learned that wasn’t enough. I have a sense that some evidence was withheld but not enough to actually build a case. I know for sure there’s evidence missing. Phone log pages from the days following the murder for one.”

Edward nodded as they paused when their lunch arrived.

“He didn’t do it. I knew my parents better than anyone else who testified. They argued, sure, but not in an abnormal way. She spoiled us and he spoiled her and they were good. My dad was a gentle person. And no one was more damaged by her murder than he was. He used to weep all the time that the real killer was out there. He worried over me and my siblings, for our safety.”

She shook her head. “This is a man who never even spanked us, how is that guy going to stab his wife forty-two times and hack off her hair? And why? Where did the hair go? Where did the weapon go? Whose blood was it at the scene? There was not enough to overcome reasonable doubt. At all.”

“How long has this been your personal project?”

“I left here and moved in with my uncle in Long Beach. I was sixteen. I spent the next year or so fighting counseling, but my uncle and my dad’s parents pushed until I went. Every time I came back here, I’d sort of lose my way and it took me a few months to get back on track again. But right before I graduated from high school, I read a piece in a magazine about the Innocence Project and a man they’d just freed from prison after a DNA test proved he wasn’t the murderer. I was eighteen.”

“You never doubted? Not even once?”

“They arrested him that night and he never came home. We all moved in with my grandparents here. They were convinced from that moment and we were never allowed to speak otherwise. But I just…” She shrugged. “It never occurred to me that he was capable of such a thing. He just wasn’t. And my mom was really smart. Strong. She wouldn’t have stayed if he was the monster they said he was at trial. If for no other reason than us. She would have died to protect us. If he’d been abusive, she’d have left him.”

“How do your grandparents feel about this whole thing?”

“It’s complicated.” She snorted. “I mean, you know them. I know the Lassiters and Chases have been friends for a few generations now. They believe what they believe, which is their right. I don’t think they were ever going to hear anything else than my father’s guilt.”

“I’ve known your grandparents a long time, yes. And your grandmother is…well, you’re a lot like her. She’s very sure of her opinions. But unlike you, I’m not sure she’s looked into any other explanations of the murder.”

“Most people don’t. I understand that. Their daughter was killed. The authorities told them who did it and that was enough. It is for most people and it’s that way for a reason. But they see my leaving Petal as a betrayal. To them, I chose a side. We don’t talk about it. But when it comes up, as things people try to bury with resentment always do, it’s ugly and judgmental. They loved my mother and there’s no room for me to love both my parents. They see my belief in my father’s innocence as a betrayal of my mother.”

He didn’t speak for a long time, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence so Caroline made a serious dent in her meatloaf.

Edward liked Caroline Mendoza a great deal. It took courage to believe things others didn’t. Especially when he knew it had estranged her from her mother’s people as well as her siblings.

After his chat with Abigail and James at church the day before, he’d come home and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening with his family. But Caroline had been in the back of his mind.

Caroline and her father’s case.

On the way home in the car, Polly had said, “The way they talk about that girl bothers me. Abigail has no right at all to make it out that Caroline is selfish. Imagine, Edward, what it must have been like for her growing up after her momma was killed. Her brother and sister always had Abigail and James there for them. But they talk about Caroline like she’s that uncle who keeps going to jail for stuff no one wants to talk about. I don’t like it one bit.”

His wife was clever, and she had a heart bigger than anyone else he’d ever known. He could see right then that Caroline would be pulled in to their family if Polly had any say. And he’d never seen a single person who could resist his wife when she set her mind to something.

“What do you think, Edward?” Polly had asked.

“About what, lamb?”

“Did Enrique Mendoza kill Bianca?”

“I didn’t go to the trial. I’ve read the articles about it. I’ve never been entirely comfortable that reasonable doubt was overcome.”

“People are going to be hostile to her. She’s going to need folks in her corner.”

“You proposing us?” He grinned.

“I never get in your work business. That’s your world and it’s not my place. But, if you ever thought maybe he was innocent, that she was right, well I imagine that would sway more than a few folks in town. She’s alone. I know the Lassiters have suffered, but they’re wrong to shut Caroline out the way they do. You can’t put conditions on love that way.”

Again, Polly had been right and he’d been thinking about it since then. He’d thought about it ever since Caroline’s resume had shown up in the office. Had even before that, on and off over the years.

He’d decided when he’d gotten up that morning to get some answers of his own, and what he discovered would help him decide what to do next.

“I wager you have a file. On your father I mean.”

Caroline nodded. “I do.”

“Can I see it?”

Hope lit her gaze but it was wary at the edges. “Why?”

“I’m going to be honest with you because I’m not very good at lying and I respect you too much to play games. I have never entirely felt convinced of your father’s guilt. I’d like to see what you’ve gathered up.”

“All right. And then what?”

“It’s not going to be totally easy, you know, coming back here and pursuing this. People feel threatened when you start hacking away at the foundations of the things they believe keep them safe. If I read what you’ve got and I am convinced of his innocence, you’ll have another person to help. Another person in your corner. But if I read it and I’m not, well, I’ll tell you that too. But I won’t ever make you stop trying to prove his innocence either way. That’s your business and your right.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Her smile was a little weak but it was there.