The Perfect Alibi (Robin Lockwood #2)(66)

“Maybe. Mrs. Voss called the station before she died and said she thought someone was following her. She said she got suspicious when she saw the same car on two occasions. Then she spotted a car down the street from her house.”

“Did she give a description of the car?”

“She said it was a red Honda Accord.”

“Did she get a license number?”

“No, the car was too far away, and it sped off when she started to walk toward him. But we may have caught a break. A red Honda Accord ran a red light two blocks from the Voss home on the night they were killed. There was a traffic camera at the light, and we have a photo of the driver and the license. The car was a rental. The renter used fake ID, but we ran the photo of the driver through facial recognition software and we think his name is Ivar Gorski.”

“Does he have any connection to Norcross Pharmaceuticals?”

“All we know now is that Gorski has a private detective agency in New York.”

“You should call Detective Jacobs in New York and let him know. He can get on it from his end.”

“Gee, Robin, I never thought of that.”

Robin blushed. “Sorry.”

“Why don’t you let us do the detecting? That’s what we’re paid for. You concentrate on putting criminals back on the street so I can stay employed.”

Robin laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not after your job.”

“That’s good to know,” Carrie said as she flashed an answering smile.

“Have a nice day, Counselor.”





CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX


Randi Stark and her mother moved back to their house as soon as Robin told Randi that Blaine Hastings was back in jail. Two days later, Robin filed Randi’s lawsuit against Hastings in the Multnomah County Circuit Court, and the next day, Jeff ushered Annie Roche into Robin’s office before taking a seat against the wall.

When Roche testified in Blaine Hastings’s rape trial, she’d worn a long-sleeve blouse and an ankle-length dress, and her only jewelry had been conservative earrings and a tasteful turquoise ring. Today, her bare arms were covered from shoulder to wrist with tattoos, and she wore a nose ring and metal piercings in her ears and eyebrows.

“Have a seat, Annie. Can I get you coffee, tea, some water?” Robin asked.

“I’m good.”

Robin thought Roche looked nervous. “Thanks for coming in.”

“Yeah, about that. How come you need to talk to me? I saw you sitting in at Blaine’s trial. You already know what I’m going to say.”

“I do have a transcript of your testimony and the police report with your statement. But you’re going to have to tell your story to the civil jury that will hear Randi’s lawsuit. There may be different issues we have to cover in that trial, since we’re asking for money to compensate Randi for her physical and emotional injuries.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself. How old are you, did you grow up in Oregon, are you in school or working? That kind of thing.”

“Uh, I’m twenty-one. I grew up in Salem. Then my folks moved to Portland when I was thirteen. I’m going to community college and working part-time in a nail salon and also at a grocery store to pay tuition.”

“That sounds hard.”

Roche shrugged.

“How long have you known Randi?”

“Like forever. We went to middle school and high school together.”

“So, you’re good friends?”

“Yeah.”

“One of the big issues in a civil suit is the pain and suffering the plaintiff has endured. This can be physical pain or mental and emotional pain. Have you had a lot of contact with Randi since she was raped?”

“Yeah, I have.”

“And have you noticed any physical or emotional changes?”

Roche nodded.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’ve seen.”

“Uh, well, she’s depressed, you know. She told me she has nightmares and has trouble sleeping. And, uh, she’s scared all the time. Like she thinks it could happen again.”

“Okay. That’s helpful. What about physical pain?”

“Uh, after Blaine did it, she was sore. That’s what she told me.”

“Anything lasting?”

“You have to ask her.”

“Okay. Let’s talk about something else. Did you know Blaine Hastings in high school?”

“Yeah.”

“Were you friends?”

“No. Blaine Hastings is a pig. He belongs in jail.” Roche answered with more emotion than she’d shown since she walked into Robin’s office.

“You really hate him, don’t you?”

Roche looked away and shrugged.

“Did he ever do anything to you to make you feel this way?”

“Not to me, but to people I know.”

“Tell me about that.”

“There’s a guy I knew. He framed him, and he went to jail.”

“Was this Ryan Tucker?”

“Yeah.”

“Randi told me he killed himself.”

When Roche nodded, she looked grim.

“What about other times Hastings molested a woman? Have you heard anything like that?”