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“Like that.”
“There’s easier ways to make brakes fail than banging a rock on the hydraulic line.”
“Unless you want it to look like an accident,” I said.
“I guess.”
I asked the manager to take pictures of the damage, and we agreed on a price to fix the car and a time for me to pick it up the following morning.
After lunch, the trial got even worse for Stefan and Naomi. Detective Carmichael took the stand and walked the jury through the evidence
that had been logged in the old limestone quarry, including Stefan’s bloody school ID card.
Naomi tried to get Carmichael to admit the ID could have been planted, but the detective wouldn’t bite, said, “Your client was so hopped up on booze and drugs and so deep into his sadistic ways that he wasn’t thinking straight.”
Detective Frost testified about photographs taken at the scene. I’d seen them all before, but blown up like that, the brutality of what had been done to Rashawn’s body was magnified. There were audible gasps in the room, several from the jurors.
“Monster!” Cece Turnbull screamed as she leaped to her feet and stabbed her finger at Stefan. “You butchered him! You butchered him like there was nothing human and good there at all!”
For several beats, Judge Varney hammered his gavel and called for order, and then he instructed the bailiffs to escort Rashawn’s mother from the court yet again.
Cece was having none of it and screeched and spit at Stefan before the bailiffs could get hold of her and muscle her out. Cece’s mother wept while her father held his wife and stared in loathing at my cousin.
After the session, Naomi emerged from the courthouse and tried to put a positive spin on the day for the reporters gathered out front.
She left them finally and came over to Bree, Pinkie, and me in the parking lot. My aunts and Nana Mama had gone home at lunch.
Naomi said, “I know the judge instructed the jury to ignore Cece’s rant, but they’ll remember it.”
“They couldn’t help but remember it,” Bree said. “She left me shaking.”
Naomi looked away, wiped at her watering eyes. “Me too. I know it’s unprofessional of me, but I’m beginning to wonder whether Stefan did those things to Rashawn.”
“I am too,” said Patty Converse, who walked up to us. “I’m asking myself how I could have missed so much.”
“I’m considering whether or not to ask for a plea bargain,” Naomi said. “I know Matt Brady. He’ll be fair.”
“Don’t throw in the towel just yet,” I said.
“We’ve got nothing to refute Stefan’s being at the crime scene,” Naomi said. “They’ve got his DNA all over the place.”
Before I could respond to that, my phone rang, and I turned away. It was Coach Greene calling.
“You don’t know how much I hate to say this, Dr. Cross, but I just received a call from Detective Pedelini with the sheriff’s office. The blood and urine tests on your daughter both came back positive for cocaine and methamphetamine. I’m afraid Jannie can’t continue training with us, and Duke will be withdrawing its offer of a scholarship.”
Chapter
83
“This is bullshit, Coach,” I said, struggling to control my fury. “Those samples had to have been tampered with. Probably by Detective Pedelini.”
“Well,” she said skeptically, “I don’t know how you’re—”
“Going to prove it? We have our own samples from that day in a brown paper bag in my refrigerator. I asked for them as a precaution. I’ll be sending those samples to an impartial lab. Will Duke take the FBI’s word?”
The line fell silent. Then Coach Greene said, “If the FBI says Jannie’s clean, then she’s clean.”
“Thank you, Coach,” I said curtly. “I’ll be in touch.”
