Page 55 of Find Me

“Your Honor, we can place the defendant inside a home where Alex Lopez’s blood was found. Hours after she left that home, she was seen on camera disposing of a rug from that same home that also contained traces of the victim’s blood. We are filing a prosecutorial information charging her with one count of felony assault today, but we anticipate additional, more serious charges once we go before a grand jury for indictment. We are also aware that she is being investigated for involvement in another homicide in a different state that we believe formed her motive to move to Suffolk County for the sole purpose of finding Alex Lopez and harming him. We are seeking to detain her pending indictment and trial because she is an extreme flight risk. She has lived for fifteen years under an alias and then disappeared for nearly two weeks since the events that gave rise to the probable cause for her arrest. She has no ties to the jurisdiction or even to New York.”

Lindsay needed to steal the momentum from Nunzio, and she saw her opening. “So the prosecutor wants to file assault charges but detain my client as if she were accused of murder. Presumably the prosecution’s theory is that Alex Lopez was killed at the house in question during this supposed assault, so why isn’t he charging my client with homicide? The answer, Your Honor, is that he knows he doesn’t have probable cause—either for assault or for murder—but thinks he can cover up this failure by proceeding with the lesser charge.” From herbriefcase, she pulled the affidavit she had Scott sign late last night, summarizing his discussion with Kevin Mitchell, the bartender at the Pier Bar. “This is the evidence I was in a rush to prepare for the court. May I approach?”

Lindsay felt a brief but satisfying moment of schadenfreude as she dropped a copy of the affidavit on the prosecution table for Nunzio on her way to the bench to hand the judge the original, but as she returned to her seat, she spotted Scott in the back row of the courtroom. From his facial expression, she had an idea how long he’d been there.

Seconds felt like hours as the judge processed the information in the affidavit. Lindsay couldn’t bring herself to look at Scott again, and she didn’t want Scott to see her look at Hope. She forced herself to stare straight ahead.

“And you have a recording of the entire conversation described here?” Judge Harper finally asked.

“Yes, Your Honor. I can play it now if the court desires.” In truth, she was hoping not to share the full recording. In the affidavit, she had spelled out only the evidence that Alex Lopez had been at the bar drinking, requesting an ice pack for a visible cut on his temple. She had omitted the details about Alex borrowing the bartender’s phone, hoping that for once she was actually a step ahead of the police.

The judge let out an exasperated sigh. “Mr. Nunzio, are you aware of this witness?”

Nunzio was already conferring with Carter Decker, who had flipped to the second page of the affidavit and was shaking his head.

“Mr. Nunzio?”

“No, Your Honor. This is the first I’ve heard of him.”

“Is it fair to say that it would drastically alter your theory of the case if there is in fact a witness who saw your victim alive but visibly injured at the date and time described here?”

“It is still our position that the defendant was responsible for that injury, Your Honor, and that is the basis for our assault charge today.”

“That’s not a satisfying answer, Mr. Nunzio. Does it change the theory of your case or not?”

“It would be premature to answer that before I’ve had a chance to talk to the witness myself.”

“Then I’d say it’s also premature for me to hold this defendant over for trial.”

“But—”

“No buts. The state clearly has more work to do, Mr. Nunzio. I suggest you get on it. In the meantime, Ms. King, or Ms. Miller, if you prefer, you’re free to go. But I would strongly advise—and your lawyer, I assume, will back me up on this—that you remain within the jurisdiction. Were you to hide, or flee, or otherwise go missing, a judge would be likely to view that quite negatively at a detention hearing were you to be charged in the future with a crime. Similarly, a jury would be entitled to see the same facts as evidence of your guilt. Do you understand?”

“I do, Your Honor.” Hope seemed so small in her oversize scrubs as she looked up toward the bench. “I won’t go anywhere, I promise.”

“As for the prosecution’s other motion, there’s no need for me to rule in light of my decision not to hold the defendant over for trial.”

With the crack of the judge’s gavel, Hope jumped from her seat and wrapped her arms around Lindsay. “Oh my god, thank you. You did it.”

Lindsay turned to see Scott walking out of the courtroom. “Sorry, Hope, just a second.” She quickly made her way through the courtroom doors, down the hall, and out to the parking lot. He was already walking away from the Audi, heading in the direction of the main road.

“Your keys are in the front seat,” he said.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll get an Uber to the train station.”

“Stop it, Scott. Let me at least explain.”

He shook his head and looked down at the asphalt. “How many times?”

“It was only once. I swear. And it was just a stupid kiss, and we were totally drunk. It was dumb.”

“No, that’s not my question, Lindsay. How many times did you accuse me of not giving you enough room, saying I didn’t understand the importance of female friendships? How many times did you tell me I acted controlling when it came to her? How many times did you fucking gaslight me into thinking I was the one who was crazy, wondering if you cared more about her than you ever would about me?”

“Scott—please.” At last they were having the conversation they’d found a million ways to avoid. “Can we just talk?”

“It’s over, Lindsay. We’re done.”

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