The Wife Who Knew Too Much(72)

“But why would I want Derek there? I hate Derek.”

“They might try to argue that he supplied the drugs you used to kill Nina—”

“I didn’t kill her.”

“I’m not saying you did, but they are saying that, Tabitha. That’s what you need to understand. And your prior drug conviction works against you. You can’t just assume that, because you’re innocent, the charges won’t stick. When things look bad, that can sway a jury’s opinion, even if it’s unfair.”

“That’s what my lawyer said the last time. That’s why I pleaded guilty to something I didn’t do, and I’m not going down that path again.”

“I would never ask you to do that. Look, I’m going to make a suggestion. The DA, Brad Neely, expressed interest in having you proffer.”

“What’s that?”

“It means he wants to sit down and interview you—with me present, of course. They think Nina Levitt was murdered. You and your husband are the obvious suspects. My read is, they don’t have enough to arrest your husband, so they picked you up first, hoping they could flip you on him.”

“I won’t lie about Connor to please them.”

“Nobody’s asking you to lie.”

“Yes, they are, because I don’t know anything. I told the cops that last night. If Connor killed Nina, he didn’t tell me about it.”

“What if we agree to an initial listening session? We postpone the bail hearing and sit down with the prosecution just to see what we can find out about their case against you.”

“Can we do that?”

“We can try. We let them make a pitch for you to cooperate, and I use that opportunity to ask questions. Before you say anything substantive, we break for a consultation. Then you and I can decide if it’s going to be fruitful or not. If not, we haven’t lost anything. But if their case against you looks strong, giving evidence against Connor may be your only option. I know that’s tough to hear. But you need to think of your child.”

Think of my child. That’s what I’d been doing when I plunged headfirst into a marriage with a man I really didn’t know. And look where it had gotten me.





33





Later that afternoon, Detectives Hagerty and Pardo escorted me to a conference room on an upper floor of the courthouse, where my lawyer and the DA were waiting. The DA, Brad Neely, was a fortyish guy in a dark suit with heavy five-o’clock shadow. Gulping from a coffee cup as I entered, he stood up and shook my manacled hand.

“Mrs. Ford, thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” he said, ducking his head in greeting. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Detective, could you please remove her handcuffs? Thank you.”

I sat across from him, with my lawyer beside me.

“Can I offer either of you ladies a cup of coffee?” Neely said.

I’d been expecting coldness and hostility. His courteous attitude had the effect of lowering my guard. That could be a ploy, just like the good cop/bad cop routine the detectives had pulled in the car last night. In my exhausted state, I wasn’t confident that I could avoid getting played. I’d sworn off caffeine because of the baby, but my screwing up here today would hurt her more than a cup of coffee ever could.

“Yes, thank you. With milk, please.”

Neely called somebody to bring the coffee. In the meantime, he reviewed the agreement where they promised not to use anything I said today against me in court. The only exception was if I took the stand at trial. If I had to take the stand at my murder trial, this interview would be the least of my worries.

“That’s fine with me. I’ll sign the paper,” I said.

He handed me a pen. The coffee came. It was hot and strong, and in combination with the utter terror coursing through my veins, had the effect of focusing my mind. I listened intently as Neely spoke.

“Your lawyer, Ms. Cohen, tells me that you’re on the fence about cooperating against your husband. I get it. It’s a tough decision. I’m married myself,” he said, flashing the gold band on his ring finger. “For now, all we’re seeking is information. You might not ever have to testify against Mr. Ford in court, because of the marital privilege.”

“Or, you might,” Suzanne said. “Sometimes, the marital privilege doesn’t apply. The judge decides. Let’s just be clear, Brad. You can’t promise her she won’t have to testify against him.”

“That’s true. But for now, all we want is information, and anything you tell us is confidential. Your husband won’t find out we had this conversation unless you tell him yourself. And, by the way, if you’re afraid of him—”

“Afraid of Connor, you mean? Not my ex-husband?”

“Your ex-husband? You’re referring to—” He consulted a notepad that lay on the table in front of him. “—Derek Cassidy?”

I nodded. “I am afraid of Derek.”

“My notes indicate that Mr. Cassidy is currently incarcerated on an assault charge stemming from an incident that took place at Windswept the night Nina Levitt died. He was there.”

“Yes, but I don’t know anything about Derek’s case. How long he’s in for. When he might get out. If I’m going to talk to you, I’ll have to speak against Derek. That scares me. He scares me. Connor doesn’t.”