Southern Lights: A Novel

“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.

Chapter 4

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.