interesting?
She probably dreamed she could win a Pulitzer for exposing racism in the jury selection procedures of a sleepy Ohio town.
“He had a lawyer defending him,” Stynes said.
“A public defender, right?” Kate said.
“That’s usually the case for people in Dante’s situation.”
“You mean people without a lot of money?” Kate asked.
“I guess that’s what I mean.”
“And I know…” Kate tapped the pen against her wrist. “I know Dante’s lawyer asked for a change of venue and was denied.”
Stynes didn’t respond.
“Do you know how much experience his public defender had?” Kate asked.
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Well.” Kate reached out and picked up the tape recorder. “I think I have enough for the story now.” She turned the recorder off and dropped it and her pen into her oversized bag. “I do appreciate the time you took to talk with me. If I need anything else, I can just call you guys, right?”
“Let me be clear about something,” Stynes said.
Kate stopped what she was doing and gave him her full attention. Stynes didn’t raise his voice or lose his cool, but he did seem determined to speak his mind to Kate Grossman.
“We did a solid investigation here,” he said. “We had the witnesses, and it went to a jury. It even stood up on appeal.”
Kate nodded. “I know, Detective. It’s my job to ask these questions.” She reached into her bag again and brought the tape recorder back. “Do you want to say something else on the record? I can add it.”
She flipped the switch and held it out toward Stynes, who looked at the recorder like it might bite him. He cleared his throat and leaned forward.
“The world was a better place with Dante Rogers behind bars,” he said. He punctuated his words with a quick nod.
Kate recognized her cue, shut the recorder off, and put it away.
Janet didn’t know if Kate picked up on what she had—a key element of Detective Stynes’s final statement. He’d said the world was a better place with Dante Rogers behind bars.
Given the chance to say so definitively, he didn’t say he thought Dante Rogers was guilty. He didn’t say that at all.
Chapter Nine
Stynes walked Kate to the door and watched her stroll down the walk—her young hips moving back and forth—and climb into a new red Honda Civic. A graduation gift from Dad, Stynes figured, watching her drive away. Most of the reporters he knew drove older cars held together by rust and prayer. One more reason to resent her, even if she did look good both coming and going. A rich college girl turning over the race card. Stynes felt his back molars grind against one another.
Let it go. Let it go.
He turned to say good-bye to Janet and found her standing right behind him in the doorway. Before he could say anything, he saw the look in her eyes. Something pleading, almost fearful.
“Don’t worry about that stuff—”
She cut him off with a nod of her head. Toward the porch. She wanted to talk outside.
Stynes held the door, and they stepped out into the heat of the late afternoon. The sun glanced off the chrome and glass of the parked cars. The street shimmered. Stynes didn’t sit, but Janet did. She settled into a lawn chair and looked up.
“I just wanted to talk about all of that,” she said, pointing toward the general area where Kate’s car had been parked.
“Like I said, don’t worry about it. She’s just a kid trying to make a name for herself. She thinks a race angle might play big in a story like this. Little does she know people in Dove Pointwould rather attend free colonoscopy day at the hospital than dwell on racial issues. It probably won’t even get into the story. I know the features editor at the
Ledger
—”
“I don’t mean the race stuff,” Janet said.
Stynes shifted his feet. He wore a suit coat over a polo shirt, and he felt the sweat forming on his back. He had about two hours of paperwork to do back at the station, and he wanted nothing
She probably dreamed she could win a Pulitzer for exposing racism in the jury selection procedures of a sleepy Ohio town.
“He had a lawyer defending him,” Stynes said.
“A public defender, right?” Kate said.
“That’s usually the case for people in Dante’s situation.”
“You mean people without a lot of money?” Kate asked.
“I guess that’s what I mean.”
“And I know…” Kate tapped the pen against her wrist. “I know Dante’s lawyer asked for a change of venue and was denied.”
Stynes didn’t respond.
“Do you know how much experience his public defender had?” Kate asked.
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Well.” Kate reached out and picked up the tape recorder. “I think I have enough for the story now.” She turned the recorder off and dropped it and her pen into her oversized bag. “I do appreciate the time you took to talk with me. If I need anything else, I can just call you guys, right?”
“Let me be clear about something,” Stynes said.
Kate stopped what she was doing and gave him her full attention. Stynes didn’t raise his voice or lose his cool, but he did seem determined to speak his mind to Kate Grossman.
“We did a solid investigation here,” he said. “We had the witnesses, and it went to a jury. It even stood up on appeal.”
Kate nodded. “I know, Detective. It’s my job to ask these questions.” She reached into her bag again and brought the tape recorder back. “Do you want to say something else on the record? I can add it.”
She flipped the switch and held it out toward Stynes, who looked at the recorder like it might bite him. He cleared his throat and leaned forward.
“The world was a better place with Dante Rogers behind bars,” he said. He punctuated his words with a quick nod.
Kate recognized her cue, shut the recorder off, and put it away.
Janet didn’t know if Kate picked up on what she had—a key element of Detective Stynes’s final statement. He’d said the world was a better place with Dante Rogers behind bars.
Given the chance to say so definitively, he didn’t say he thought Dante Rogers was guilty. He didn’t say that at all.
Chapter Nine
Stynes walked Kate to the door and watched her stroll down the walk—her young hips moving back and forth—and climb into a new red Honda Civic. A graduation gift from Dad, Stynes figured, watching her drive away. Most of the reporters he knew drove older cars held together by rust and prayer. One more reason to resent her, even if she did look good both coming and going. A rich college girl turning over the race card. Stynes felt his back molars grind against one another.
Let it go. Let it go.
He turned to say good-bye to Janet and found her standing right behind him in the doorway. Before he could say anything, he saw the look in her eyes. Something pleading, almost fearful.
“Don’t worry about that stuff—”
She cut him off with a nod of her head. Toward the porch. She wanted to talk outside.
Stynes held the door, and they stepped out into the heat of the late afternoon. The sun glanced off the chrome and glass of the parked cars. The street shimmered. Stynes didn’t sit, but Janet did. She settled into a lawn chair and looked up.
“I just wanted to talk about all of that,” she said, pointing toward the general area where Kate’s car had been parked.
“Like I said, don’t worry about it. She’s just a kid trying to make a name for herself. She thinks a race angle might play big in a story like this. Little does she know people in Dove Pointwould rather attend free colonoscopy day at the hospital than dwell on racial issues. It probably won’t even get into the story. I know the features editor at the
Ledger
—”
“I don’t mean the race stuff,” Janet said.
Stynes shifted his feet. He wore a suit coat over a polo shirt, and he felt the sweat forming on his back. He had about two hours of paperwork to do back at the station, and he wanted nothing
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