Danielle Steel - Southern Lights

“The big serial killer case that’s been all over the press,” Muriel answered for her, and he looked impressed.

“Those cases are always hard. They’re very emotionally disturbing. Cases like that always haunt me for months.” Alexa nodded. It was already starting to do that to her. She knew in every detail the faces of each dead girl, and their lives. The one she knew the least about so far was the defendant, how he had done it, when and where, and what made him tick, but she’d get there. She always did.

“I hate it when Alexa has cases like that,” her mother complained as she carried their dishes to the sink and helped load the dishwasher. She loved coming to Alexa’s for dinner, it was always easy and relaxed. And Stanley liked coming with her. They had a comfortable relationship and enjoyed many of the same things. Not enough to want to get married at this point in their lives, but enough to spend a lot of time together and talk on the phone every day. Sometimes they had lunch in his chambers or hers. “I always worry that the defendants are too dangerous and have equally dangerous friends on the outside.”

“Any sign of that?” Stanley asked, looking mildly concerned, but Alexa shook her head.

“No. It’s fine.”

The evening ended shortly after that, and Alexa and Savannah went to their own bedrooms. Savannah spent the rest of the evening talking to friends on the phone, and Alexa pored over files, until she fell asleep on her bed, fully dressed. Savannah came in to say goodnight to her, and gently took her papers out of her hand, covered her with a blanket, and turned off the light. It was not an unusual occurrence. Alexa fell asleep that way on many, many nights, especially when she was in trial. Savannah kissed her, and Alexa didn’t stir. She was purring softly, as Savannah smiled and closed the door.

The next day, after Alexa’s dinner with her mother, she got good news about the case. The latest, more extensive report on the DNA definitely determined that the dried blood caked into Luke Quentin’s boots was a match with two of the women, and that the hairs were from the other two victims, and were a clear match too. Alexa considered the news a real gift, so they could now link him to all four women. How the blood and hair got there was up to them to prove. But it was solid evidence for their side, just in time for them to go to the grand jury the next day. Jack called and told her, and Alexa beamed when she heard the news. There were still more tests to do, which would be more conclusive, but the information they had now was reliable. Luke Quentin was in big trouble. As was proper, Alexa called and told his public defender, who was not thrilled to hear the news.

“Do you really think you can make this stick?” the other woman asked her. Alexa knew her and liked her, although she was still very green.

“Yes, I do,” Alexa said firmly.

“You don’t have a lot to go on.” That much was true.

“I have four dead women, and a previously convicted felon, a repeat offender, with blood and hair of the victims on his shoes. It didn’t get there while he had lunch at McDonald’s. He claims he may have jogged through it in the park. He didn’t jog through four different crime scenes. We’re going with it. Let me know if he wants to plead.”

“I don’t think he will,” the public defender said, sounding unhappy. She was not looking forward to this case. The killing of four young women would have public opinion heavily against him, and from what she had seen so far, her client was anything but remorseful, and extremely sure of himself. A jury was going to hate him the minute he walked in. All she could do was her best, but they both knew there was a good chance she was going to lose. And Quentin had no desire whatsoever to plead guilty to the charges. He had nothing but time on his hands, and a lot to lose. If he was convicted, he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison. He wasn’t about to hand that to them. He was going to make them work to convict. “Thanks for keeping me up to date,” she told Alexa, and they both hung up and went back to work.

As always, Alexa was impeccably prepared for the grand jury hearing the next day. It was held at the courthouse in Manhattan where her office was. Jack picked her up at home that morning, and drove her downtown in an unmarked police car. The hearing was closed to the public, and everything about it was kept in the utmost secrecy. Only she, representing the DA’s office; Jack, as the head of the investigation; the defendant and his attorney; and the grand jurors would be there. The hearing would determine if there was enough evidence for an indictment for the matter to be bound over for trial. Alexa knew that eighteen of the twenty-three members of the grand jury would be there-two more than they needed to indict. And at least twelve would have to vote for the indictment, and obviously she hoped they would. She and Jack didn’t say much on the way downtown; it was early. Quentin would be brought to the courtroom with four guards, in case he tried to escape. The public defender would meet him there. She had had the right to file a motion to block the grand jury from convening, but she hadn’t done it. There was too much evidence against her client to make a motion plausible.

Jack and Alexa hurried up the courthouse steps and into the grand jury room, just as Quentin was escorted in through a separate entrance. They had both been there many times before, with good results. It was rare, almost unheard of, for Alexa’s indictments to be dismissed. And her paperwork and motions were all in order. She wanted no procedural mistakes on this case.

They took their places at the counsel table assigned to the DA’s office, while the public defender sat down at the table across the aisle and Luke Quentin was brought into the room. Alexa was surprised to see that he was wearing a suit. She had no idea where the public defender had gotten it for him, but he looked good. She wondered if maybe it was his own. It seemed unlikely. He glanced across the aisle at Alexa then, and this time he didn’t smile. His eyes bored into her and through her, like white-hot power drills that drove right through her head. There was pure hatred in his eyes, and then he turned away. She could all too easily imagine that same look in his eyes as he raped and killed some young girl. She had no doubts whatsoever about the case.

The grand jurors convened quickly and heard the evidence from Alexa’s side. There were no witnesses to refute it. They were the only people in the room. Jack supplied enough evidence to support the indictment, without giving any major secrets away. He said there were investigations under way in other states about fifteen more potential victims, and they were still developing the case, but they had four sure victims so far. The jurors spoke to the defendant briefly, and asked him a few questions about his whereabouts and the forensic evidence that had been found against him, and then they thanked everyone for coming, and said that they would hand down their decision later that day, after they voted on it. But Alexa knew from their faces, as did everyone else in the room, that they would vote to indict. There was no other choice, with four dead women and blood on Luke Quentin’s boots.

“So much for that,” Jack said, as they went back to their offices upstairs. “Now we get to work.” Alexa nodded, and they parted in silence, each thinking of all they had to do. The burden was on the investigators now to give her the evidence she needed to win the case. She trusted him completely.

Alexa got the call from the grand jury late that afternoon. They had come back with an indictment in the Quentin case, four counts of rape, and murder in the first degree. They were off and running. She knew the coming months would be increasingly stressful until they tried the case. She called and asked the public defender if they would agree to a speedy trial, which she did. Joe McCarthy agreed with Alexa that the public’s best interests would be served by trying and convicting him as quickly as possible and putting it to rest. The public defender admitted that she was not looking forward to trying this case. They set the date for May, which gave them four months. And by Friday night, after organizing all their files, clearing her desk, and setting the wheels of justice in motion, Alexa was wiped out.

She and Savannah ordered pizza for dinner, and after that Savannah went out with friends, and Alexa emptied her briefcase and went to work. She knew now that with the Quentin case scheduled for trial in May, she would have no social life whatsoever in the coming months, but she didn’t have one anyway.

Savannah had plans with friends all weekend, which allowed Alexa to work without feeling guilty, and finally on Sunday afternoon they looked over Savannah’s college applications together. She had finished the last ones.

“Looking good,” Alexa said, smiling at her proudly. As usual, Savannah had met the deadline right on time. “Let’s stuff them in a bunch of envelopes and get them out.” Savannah agreed, and they each filled several envelopes, put stamps on them, and addressed them to the admissions offices. Alexa said she’d take them downstairs and stick them in the mailbox, since she needed some air anyway. She hadn’t left the apartment since Friday afternoon and had worked straight through the weekend.

She was just about to leave the apartment when she saw an envelope that had been shoved under the door. The handwriting was stilted and awkward and looked like that of a child as Alexa picked it up.

“What’s this?” she said more to herself than anyone else. It was addressed to Savannah, and had been delivered by hand. She walked it into Savannah’s room and handed it to her. “Looks like you’re getting love notes from very young children,” she teased her, and was about to leave the room as Savannah opened it and looked confused. The letter inside had been written on a computer and printed out. If it had been written by a child, it was one who owned a computer, but most children these days did.