Desperate Girls (Wolfe Security #1)(84)

“Who is ‘we’?”

“People in the neighborhood. You know. Whoever’s around. Aunt Sylv doesn’t care.”

She nodded. “And when you arrived at Justin’s house, did you see Justin’s car in the driveway?”

“No.”

“Did you at any time leave Justin’s house that night, say, to take a break from video games?”

“Yeah, around ten, I ran down to the store on the corner to get a Gatorade.”

She glanced at Conlon and was pleased to see he looked bored with this testimony. “And when you returned, did you see Justin’s car in the driveway or parked near the house?”

“No.”

“Okay, then what happened?”

“Then I was in the living room playing Call of Duty, and Justin’s cousin showed up. His name’s Joel, but we call him Stretch.”

“Joel Sebring. And you know this man? Justin’s cousin?”

“Yeah, he lives next door.”

“Had you seen him recently?”

“Not in a while. He got popped for dealing meth and went away—”

Conlon leaped to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor! The state requests a sidebar.”

“Counselors.” Linden gave Brynn a stern look as she and Conlon approached the bench.

“Your Honor,” Conlon said in a low voice. “I object to this entire line of questioning. I don’t know who this Joel person is, but—”

“Your Honor, we’ve established that Joel Sebring is the defendant’s cousin who lives next door.”

“Your Honor, the defense is clearly trying to muddy the waters here by bringing up an outside party with a criminal record, whose presence has no bearing on the criminal matter at hand.”

“His presence has bearing on everything, Your Honor, I can assure you,” Brynn said. “If you’ll indulge me just a few minutes longer, I will demonstrate the relevance.”

Linden glared down at her over his reading glasses. “A very few minutes, Ms. Holloran. Make it quick.”

“Thank you, Judge.”

She felt Conlon’s stare boring into her as she walked back to the lectern. Brynn could tell he still didn’t see where she was going, but wherever it was, he didn’t want her to get there. And despite what he’d told the judge, Conlon knew exactly who Justin’s cousin was. The man had done four years for dealing drugs and was currently out on parole.

Brynn returned her attention to the witness. “Mr. Rivas, you said you were playing a video game when Justin’s cousin Joel showed up at Justin’s house. Could you tell us what Joel was wearing when he entered?”

He nodded. “Jeans. A black hoodie. And his work shirt.”

“And how do you know it was his work shirt? Did he tell you he’d been at work?”

“No, but his shirt had the name of the car-wash place on it. Right across the front.”

“I see.” She glanced at the jurors, who were watching the witness, clearly intrigued by this new mention of work shirts. “And what did Joel do when he arrived?”

“We talked some. And then he went in the kitchen to get a drink. He threw his shirt in the wash and sat down, and we hung out for a while.”

“You say he threw his shirt in the wash? You saw him do that?”

“I saw him throw it on the washing machine. It’s one of those stand-up ones, and it’s in the kitchen.”

He meant stacking washer-dryers, but Brynn let it go. The jury was riveted now.

“Did Joel say why he took his shirt off when he showed up at his aunt’s house to hang out?”

“Yeah, he said he was hot.”

“And what about the hoodie?”

“He put it back on after he took off his shirt.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rivas. No further questions.”

Brynn had momentum. It put a tingle inside her.

Conlon tried to shake the witness on cross-examination. But he didn’t make much progress, and soon it was Brynn’s turn again.

She called her next witness to the stand, Henry Wheeler, a nationally renowned GSR expert who’d overseen a crime lab in Syracuse before retiring to write textbooks. After running through Wheeler’s credentials, Brynn went straight to the topic of gunshot residue, guiding him through a series of questions that explained how someone could pick up gunshot residue from touching a surface where GSR had previously been deposited, such as a car steering wheel.

“This cross-contamination you talked about, Dr. Wheeler—is the same thing possible with DNA?”

Conlon shot to his feet. “Objection.”

Linden lifted his eyebrows.

“Your Honor, the witness’s textbook is about ballistics and gunshot residue, not DNA. This is not his area of expertise.”

“Your Honor, Dr. Wheeler has multiple areas of expertise,” Brynn said. “He possesses doctorates in microbiology and chemistry, and he used to run a crime lab. He’s more than qualified to answer questions about DNA.”

Linden gave Conlon a sharp look. “Overruled.”

“Dr. Wheeler, is it possible for DNA to be transferred between locations in the way you just described for gunshot residue?”

The doctor nodded. “Yes, it happens a lot. You’ve got secondary transfer. Tertiary transfer.”