Hidden Summit (Virgin River #17)(78)

“It can’t be over soon enough,” Conner said.

“Hang in there. I need to sit you down with the A.D.A. for a few hours today and tomorrow, throw you a few possible curves and prepare you for the kind of questions they might ask if they decide to cross-examine or recall you. You up to that?”

“I guess it’s what I’m here for.”

“We have you booked at the Hilton. I have a couple of off-duty cops who can stay with you if…”

“You think I’m in danger right this minute?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. We suppose you could be at risk. We only go to these lengths when there’s been a direct threat, and there was a direct threat. But—”

“Look, if you could put someone in a room across the hall or something, I wouldn’t argue with that. But there haven’t been any other threats that I’m aware of. Have you heard of any?”

“Nothing,” Max said, shaking his head.

“Then let’s do the prep. I have a couple of favors to ask.”

“Name them.”

“Katie and I have done some thinking and talking about this—we’re going to sell the Sacramento properties. After the trial, we’d like both houses—mine and hers—emptied and furnishings and belongings put in crated storage. Then we’d like to sell the houses. The lot the hardware store was built on has been listed, but it’s a bad time for real estate. We’ll be patient, but we’re starting over after this. We’ll take possession of our household goods when we’ve settled permanently and split the proceeds from the land sale and insurance money from the fire. We’re going to do it all in the name of Conner Danson—I’m the executor anyway and our dad died a long time ago. Katie knows I’ll always see she’s taken care of. Can you help me do that?”

“No problem. You want to go through the houses and make sure you’ve taken everything you don’t want in storage?”

“Katie took her late husband’s mementos but yes, I’ll take a run through both houses. My folks left behind a lot of stuff I’ll just be pitching in the end, but for now, let’s crate it up. I’ll contract a cleaning crew and painters to get the houses ready for sale. Let’s just get it done. I’m for moving on.”

Max smiled. “Brie said she thought you were settling in up north.”

“It’s a whole new life, Max. Much as it kills me to say this, I might not have discovered how much I needed a change if this whole fiasco hadn’t happened, from Samantha to the killing in my alley. So, let’s get our business taken care of so I can get back to it.”

Max put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll do it, buddy. No one deserves it more.”

A couple of consultants and an assistant district attorney spent a few hours on Monday morning and again on Tuesday morning firing questions at Conner that might never be asked by the defense, but they were offensive enough to make him angry and eventually wring an outburst from him.

“Isn’t it true that you knew your wife was a frequent visitor at The Blue Door, a bar thinly disguised as a strip club that was, in reality, an adult sex club?”

“No.”

“How many times did you go to that club?”

“Never heard of it before I became a witness.”

“How many times?”

“Never heard of it, never went there.”

“And if I could produce a charge receipt from your credit card showing you had been there with your wife before the murder…?”

“It wouldn’t be mine,” Conner said.

“Are you aware of the consequences of perjury?”

“I said I didn’t even know about it much less go there!”

“Yet your wife went there while you were still married?”

“So I hear!”

“Are you alleging that your wife went alone to this couples sex club prior to your divorce and you had no knowledge of it?”

“I have no idea if she went alone! She didn’t go with me!”

“Then what would you suggest as the reason for your divorce?”

“A nineteen-year-old college kid who delivered bottled water!” Conner stormed.

“Back to the night in question. Was there a light behind the store, in the alley where you allegedly witnessed the crime?”

“His headlights were on,” Conner said.

“Answer the question, please.”

“No! No light behind the store. There was one, but it wasn’t on. His headlights were on!”

“And you say he walked in front of the car?”

“Yes.”

“So the headlights hit him where? Right about the level of his thighs?”

“The police found blood in his car!”

“Okay, okay, this is the reason for these questions, Conner,” the A.D.A. said. “We don’t know what will be asked, but if it’s going to set you off, let’s let the anger out here, during the prep, not on the stand. Just try to hold it together and answer the question without elaborating. Yes or no, whenever possible.”

It went like that on and off for two long mornings.

When he was finished on Tuesday afternoon, he drove to the house in which he grew up, a police officer in an unmarked car following him. Conner seriously doubted that Regis Mathis had anyone sitting surveillance on his empty house a couple of days before the trial, but he used caution. Conner wanted to look around the property and pick up a couple of things. He was cautious and observant.