Southern Lights: A Novel

The public defender had filed a motion to dismiss the case, which was so ridiculous it was laughable. No judge was going to grant it, but she filed it anyway, pro forma. She owed it to her client to try. And she had filed a Sandoval motion as well, to prevent Alexa from cross-examining Quentin on his prior convictions. She had a shot at winning that, but Alexa didn’t really care. The evidence against him in this case was so damning, and the crimes so heinous, that the earlier fraud and robbery charges he’d been convicted for were almost irrelevant, and certainly not pertinent to this case, although the fact that he had prior convictions would certainly tell a jury what kind of man he was.

Both motions were being decided on that morning in chambers. Alexa objected to them, and the judge dismissed them both. The public defender walked back into court looking glum.

“So much for that,” Jack muttered under his breath as he and Sam followed Alexa out of court with a member of the FBI elite Serial Crime Unit, which had helped them investigate and prepare the case. The motions had been routine, and the judge looked impatient that the public defender had filed them. There was no sympathy for Luke Quentin in court, and there would be even less from a jury. Alexa had all their evidence and expert witnesses lined up. The prosecution was airtight.

Alexa went to see Judy Dunning that afternoon.

“Sorry about the motions,” Alexa said pleasantly, trying to sound sympathetic, although she wasn’t.

“I think the judge was being unreasonable about the Sandoval,” Judy complained. “The jury doesn’t need to know he was convicted of fraud and robbery to try this case.” Alexa didn’t comment but just nodded. She had come to see her to try to convince her again to get her client to plead guilty and avoid a trial.

“I can’t offer him a deal in a case like this,” Alexa said honestly, “but he may get better treatment in prison if he’s reasonable now. A trial is just going to be a circus, and a jury will convict. You have to know that. There’s so much evidence against him, I must have twenty boxes of it in my office. Judy, talk to him. No one needs the grief.” The public defender had even tried to challenge the warrant the DA had gotten to allow Jack and Charlie to search his hotel room initially, but that had held up too, so the incriminating evidence they had gotten was admissible in court.

“He has a right to a trial,” the public defender said through pursed lips. It was like talking to a wall, and Alexa went back to her office more than anything annoyed. The trial was going to be a media circus, and he was going down for a hundred years. So be it. She had work to do. She had meetings with the FBI all week, forensic witnesses to line up from nine states, testimony to organize, her opening statement to finish. She had a thousand ducks to get in order, and only a few weeks left to do it. There were so many investigators on the case now that she didn’t know all of them by name, and the FBI was sitting in on every meeting, to make sure that all proper procedure was maintained. No one wanted a mistrial and to do it all again. A change of venue had been discussed but rejected since Quentin was known now in every state. The case had made national news. And the judge they had been given was notorious for being tough on the press, so that was good. For the next several weeks before it started, and as long as it took after, Alexa was going to be eating, sleeping, and dreaming the trial.

She called Savannah from the office every day, but never had time to talk long, and by the time she got home at night, it was too late to call her. Savannah understood and was busy with her life in Charleston, with school, friends, and her boyfriend.

It was two weeks before the trial, as Tom was watching the news in his den one night, when he saw a news conference come on and realized it was Alexa. He shouted to Savannah to come in and watch it, and Daisy came in too. They stood in front of the television and watched Alexa speak eloquently about the upcoming murder trial involving eighteen victims. There were swarms of police and FBI around her, but the microphones were all pointing to Alexa as she gave careful, coherent, intelligent answers to the questions they asked her. She looked calm, cool, and competent. Not knowing what the fuss was about, Luisa came in too, and stood there, watching her for a moment, and then walked away with pursed lips set in a hard line.

When the press conference was over, Tom looked at his oldest daughter and complimented her mother.

“She was very good. That’s going to be one mess of a trial for her to handle, and the media’s already going crazy. I thought she was very impressive, didn’t you?” Savannah agreed with him and was very proud of her, and Daisy was excited too. She’d never seen anyone she knew on TV before, and she smiled up at her sister.