“We’ll do anything. I just wish I knew before all this. I only saw the story about this trial a few days ago. I swear I would have reached out.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “We’re talking now.”
Sam was writing furiously on his pad. He turned it toward me. “Get her address. The husband’s phone number. Dates of birth.”
Nodding, I asked Deena for her information. She provided it willingly. I thanked her again and told her I’d be in touch. When I hung up the phone, sweat beaded my brow.
“What the hell was that?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Sam said. “We found no record of any kind on Jamie Simmons. Nobody knew any old girlfriends or anything like that. I know Gus has never heard of Deena Price.”
“It’s too convenient,” I said. “She could be seeking attention.”
“I’ll have Gus get into it,” Sam said. “Run backgrounds on her and the husband. I’ll talk to this Doug Landon myself.”
“Even if every word she said was true, I don’t know if I can use it. Prior bad acts aren’t generally admissible.”
“Maybe you don’t need to call her,” he said. “Maybe you just need Jamie Simmons and Bennett Cutler to think you’re going to call her. Get her in the courtroom. Rattle him.”
“Cutler’s too smart for that.”
“Still, you need to let me run this down.”
“Absolutely. In the meantime, I’m putting Gus on the stand first thing in the morning. How’s he holding up?”
Sam’s face darkened for a second, then he quickly recovered and gave me a smile. “He’s Gus. He’s solid.”
“He knows Cutler’s going to come at him hard on cross.”
“He can handle it.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’m counting on him.”
“He knows.”
Sam rose, leaned across the desk, and planted a kiss on my cheek. “Come on. Stay at my place tonight. It’s closer. And I can make sure you eat breakfast before you leave for court in the morning.”
It was in me to protest. There was a part of me that was afraid of getting too dependent on this man. But the warmth in his eyes melted me. It was okay to need him. He wasn’t Jason. Will was taken care of for the night. It was okay to let someone else take care of me, too.
20
“It was a mistake,” Gus said, his voice a low monotone. “I can admit that. At the time of my interview with the defendant, I wasn’t thinking of him as a person of interest.”
Jamie Simmons’s face was frozen on the large screen in front of the jury. They had just finished watching the brief, videotaped interview Gus conducted with Simmons in the days after Ellie Luke disappeared.
“Twenty-two years ago,” I said. “What changed, Detective?”
Gus pulled at his tie. I hadn’t liked his color from the moment he took the witness box almost an hour ago.
“Hayden Simmons,” he said. “Mr. Simmons’s daughter came forward with new evidence. The box in the defendant’s possession contained items that were connected to the crime scene, to Ellie Luke’s body.”
One by one, we reintroduced the contents of Simmons’s box. I projected the earring on-screen.
“Detective,” I said. “What’s significant about this earring to your knowledge?”
“Its mate was found near Ellie Luke’s body. Her parents identified it as belonging to her. They produced a photograph of Miss Luke wearing it. They had been a gift from her father on her sixteenth birthday. They were apparently her favorites.”
I showed another picture previously admitted. Ellie Luke’s senior portrait, both earrings on prominent display.
