A Stranger on the Beach(73)

An alert sounded, and the door between the cellblock and the rest of the station swung open. Wayne Johnson stepped into the hallway, holding a pair of manacles. He opened the cell door and came toward Aidan.

“Step all the way to the back, please.”

Wayne cuffed Aidan’s hands in front of him, then led him through two sets of locked doors and down a hallway to a brightly lit interview room. It was cramped, with dingy beige carpeting, and smelled of disinfectant. Aidan sat down, and Wayne attached his manacles to a hook on the metal desk. The desk was bolted to the floor.

“Wait here,” he said, as if Aidan had any choice in the matter. Then he stepped out, and the key turned in the lock.

Aidan heard voices in the hall. One of them was Tommy’s, and his stomach flipped. He longed to see his brother yet dreaded facing him. But when the door opened, the person who walked in was a woman he’d never seen before. Tall and regal, with dark hair, dramatically cut, wearing a sharp black business suit and sky-high heels. She shook Aidan’s manacled hand vigorously.

“I’m Lisa Walters. I’m here to represent you.”

“You’re the public defender?”

“No. Your family hired me.”

“My family?”

“Your brother.”

Aidan huffed out a shocked breath, then pressed his knuckles to his eyes, which were strangely wet all of a sudden. He couldn’t believe Tommy would pony up for this sharp defense lawyer, after everything. He still thought Aidan was worth saving. Too bad Aidan didn’t believe that himself.

“You can go with the PD if you prefer,” she said. “But I’ll tell you straight up, you’d be making a mistake. I’m better. Chief Callahan knows me from prior cases and has enough confidence in me to pay my not insubstantial fee.”

“Whatever Tommy thinks is good enough for me, ma’am,” Aidan said. “I’m surprised, though. I figured he washed his hands of me.”

“I can’t speak for your brother, but if he’s paying my bill, he must care. You should know, he’s in a delicate position. His own brother is accused of a brutal murder in his jurisdiction. That’s a conflict of interest if ever I saw one. The state police are stepping in, with an assist from the arresting officer, who was…” She perched ruby-red reading glasses on her nose and flipped open a notebook. “Deputy Michael Castro. They’ll be watching Castro like a hawk to make sure he doesn’t cut you any breaks.”

“No worries there. Mike hates my guts.”

“Hmm, that’s not good, but I’ll make a note of it. Personal grudge. We can use it to undermine his credibility when he testifies against you. Okay, now. I’m going to ask you not to say anything about guilt or innocence until I explain the process, okay?”

Aidan nodded. “You’re the expert.”

“Good. I like a client who listens. The state has forty-eight hours from the time of arrest to bring you before a judge and charge you. If they don’t charge you in that time, they have to cut you loose. Right now, as I understand it, this case is based on a single witness. A woman named Caroline Stark claims that she witnessed you kill her husband last night. Do you know her?”

Aidan gasped. “Caroline says I did it? Shit. Maybe I did. See—”

The lawyer held up her hand.

“Stop right there. I’ll take that as yes, you know her, then you close your mouth. Only speak in response to specific questions. I’m going to give you a big, important rule here. Do. Not. Confess. Got that? There’s plenty of time for confession later. It’s early days of the case right now, and I’d like to keep your options open. If you confess to me, I won’t tell anyone, because it’s covered by attorney-client privilege. But ethics rules would prevent me from continuing to represent you if you later decide to take the stand and testify that you’re innocent. Got it? I don’t have to tell on you, but I can’t help you lie. And that would be a problem for you, because I’m the lawyer you want in your corner. So, keep your guilt or innocence to yourself until I get a handle on this case, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now. Based on the bare-bones information given to me by Deputy Castro, Mrs. Stark claims—and this is only what she claims, doesn’t make it true—that you broke into her mansion on the bluff last night and shot her husband in the stomach. She claims you told her you planned to dump his body in the ocean. You pistol-whipped her. She lost consciousness. When she woke up—”

“Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute. There’s a couple problems with that. One, I don’t own a gun. And two, I would never hurt Caroline. Never in a million years.”

“Please, Mr. Callahan. Or, Aidan, if I may. I thought I made this very clear. Hold your comments till the end.”

“Sorry, Ms. Walters.”

“Call me Lisa. Your defense lawyer is your only friend. We might as well be on a first-name basis.”

She looked back down at her notebook.

“When Mrs. Stark woke up, she says that both you and her husband’s body were gone. And that’s all they’re telling me right now. I think they’re still interviewing her.”

“Caroline says I’m guilty. Then I’m done, right? I might as well give up?”

“No. She says you’re guilty, that’s where we start. I go to work to undermine her testimony and earn my paycheck. Right now, this case is based on a single witness. That’s great for the defense. A witness’s credibility can always be destroyed. Unless there’s other evidence to corroborate what Mrs. Stark says. Understand?”