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“Tell him I’ll take care of Uncle Cy and the club until he’s ready. Tell him not to worry about anything but himself.”
“Anything else?”
It felt like something was missing, but a sloppy “I love you, man” was not it. “Tell him Righley needs her uncle Theo,” said Jack.
Chapter 18
At 9:00 a.m. Miami time, Shaky Nichols was in a windowless room in the criminal courthouse, seated in the witness chair, waiting for the state prosecutor’s show to begin. Eighteen grand jurors, three rows of six, sat facing him. Their expectations were high, no doubt. They, like Shaky, had seen the flock of reporters perched outside the grand jury room.
By law, grand jury proceedings were secret, no one allowed in the room but the jurors, the prosecutor, and a court reporter. Not even the witness’s legal counsel was allowed inside, though a witness was free to invoke his or her right against self-incrimination in response to any questions. The constitutional theory was that the grand jury would serve as a check on the prosecutor’s power, but Shaky’s lawyer had been painfully blunt in advising her client: the prosecutor always got the indictment he wanted.
“Good morning,” the prosecutor said, greeting his captive audience of eighteen.
Owens was smiling, and Shaky could see it was genuine. It wasn’t exactly clear what case the State Attorney’s Office was trying to build, but whatever it was, Owens surely had stars in his eyes. A beautiful, smart pop star and her music mogul husband in the crosshairs, each hell-bent on destroying the other. Imani was already facing federal charges. Perhaps the state attorney was cooking up similar piracy charges under state law. Whatever the indictment might bring, Shaky’s lawyer had warned him that Owens would treat this case as his breakout trial, his ticket to the cable news talking head circuit. And he’d been waiting a long time. Owens was a twenty-year veteran of major crimes with plenty ofability, hundreds of victories, and not much publicity. He worked for a district attorney who was a veritable media hound. Owens had brought the office some of its most impressive wins, but at the press conferences he somehow always found himself positioned just far enough away from the state attorney to be off-screen on the evening news. He did the work, the state attorney took the bows.
Shaky just hoped this “breakout case” had nothing to do with Tyler McCormick.
“Please swear the witness,” Owens told the court reporter.
Shaky swore the oath and settled into the chair. He was expecting a few introductory questions about his background and other benign matters, but the prosecutor went straight for the witness’s discomfort zone.
“Mr. Nichols, during the time that you were married to Imani, was she ever unfaithful to you?”
Nichols shifted in his chair. “You should probably be asking her that question.”
“I’m askingyou, sir. You understand you were commanded to be here by a court-issued subpoena, and you are required to answer my questions, right?”
“I understand.”
“And you understand that you’re under oath?”
“Yes.”
“So let me ask again: Was she ever unfaithful?”
He hesitated. His lawyer wasn’t in the room with him, but she’d advised him to answer with a simple yes or no whenever possible.
“Yes.”
“In fact, your wife had sexual relations with several other men during your marriage, did she not, sir?”
It was only the second question, and Shaky already wanted out of the room, which was not an option. “I don’t know the exact number.”
“I’ll accept that. But she’s admitted to multiple affairs in numerous media interviews. You agree there was more than one, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Did that make you angry?”
He glared back at the prosecutor. “I wasn’t happy about it.”
The prosecutor tightened his gaze. “You were more than unhappy. You were humiliated.”
“I don’t know how to answer that.”
“At times, you were furious.”
Shaky imagined that if his lawyer were in the room, she would be on her feet, objecting. But there was no judge to referee the fight, and a witness without legal counsel was no match for a prosecutor. He bit back his anger and answered. “Like I said: I wasn’t happy.”
