Page 89 of The Writer

Cordova presses on. “You killed David, Geller Hoffman killed Mia Gomez, and it was your idea to mix up all theevidence. Three-card monte, Declan called it. You had Hoffman wrapped around your little finger—he was more than happy to help. Sounds like he was obsessed with you. I bet you didn’t even have to sleep with him; you just planted the notion that you might. Guy like that, it’s enough to string him along. The way we found him…” The words trail off as the image of Hoffman’s body in the closet comes back into Cordova’s head. “I’m guessing it was aYou can watch me and I’ll watch yousort of thing. He’d go along with that, right? Perfect for you—no touching, no DNA.” Cordova taps the center of his chest. “The medical examiner found a small round bruise on Hoffman’s chest, right here. I’m thinking you got him in that closet, got the belt around his neck, and stepped on him with one high heel when he was in the heat of things. You kept the pressure on until he suffocated. When he was dead, you spread the photos around to lock in your story with Lucero. Then you got dressed and left.”

She’s been drawing closer as he talks, and she’s only a few feet away now. Her grip on the knife tightens.

“Look, I’m a cop, so I shouldn’t say this, but I’m gonna say it anyway: I don’t care that you killed Geller Hoffman—he was a shitbag. Sounds like David took advantage of you, so maybe in some twisted way, he had it coming. If Mia Gomez tried to blackmail you, she made her own bed too. Hell, even Declan. Dec decided to play with fire. He was a big boy. He knew what that meant better than anyone. I’ve been in this game far too long to get all sanctimonious. People do bad things; bad things happen. I just need to know one thing.” He looks her square in the eye. “Lucero ID’ing Hoffman—that was bullshit, right?You set it up? If I’m going to wash my hands of all this, I need to know Declan and I put away the right guy.”

“You want to know if youplanted evidenceagainst the right guy,” she says flatly. “Isn’t that what you really mean?”

He stares at her for a long time, then finally nods. “We’re all a little dirty here. I need to have a clear conscience before I get out of the game.”

Denise Morrow sets the knife down on the nightstand by the bed. Soundlessly, she goes out into the hall. Cordova eyes the knife, then follows. He finds her reaching for a framed watercolor of a purple flowering tree hanging near the bathroom. She takes it off the wall and turns it around. There’s a sheet of paper taped to the back. She carefully removes it and hands it to him.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

Log 11/04/2018 16:08 EST

Transcript: Dannemora, Clinton Correctional Facility / monitored phone recording

Present: Carolyn Douglas (attorney)

Ruben Lucero (inmate)

[Ruben Lucero] When are you getting me out? I can’t take this place no more.

[Carolyn Douglas] You didn’t make bail, Ruben. I can’t get you out. Not now, anyway.

[Lucero] Bullshit. You ain’t even trying. Public defender. I need a real attorney.

[Douglas] When you’re back in front of the judge next week, we’ll try and get your bail reduced. Until then, you’ll need to sit tight.

[Lucero] Sit tight? Are you kidding me? If you can’t get me out, at least get me out of gen-pop. Have them put me in protective custody. Isolation. Whatever. I don’t care, just get me someplace safe. I go back in the yard, I ain’t walking out. That’s for damn sure.

[Douglas] I’ve made the warden aware of your concerns.

[Lucero] Yeah, I’m sure you lit a fire under him. Did you at least pick up that box I told you about?

[Douglas] I told you, I can’t do that. It’s outside the scope of my job.

[Lucero] Your job is to keep me out of jail.

[Douglas] Not by destroying evidence.

[Lucero] I didn’t tell you to destroy it, I just want you to move it before the cops find it.

[Douglas] I won’t do that either.

[Lucero] Of course not. You want to see me burn, is that it? Give me some half-assed defense so you can sleep at night but you got no intention of getting me out of here. Fuck the judge and jury, you already decided what needs to happen to me. You’re no better than that bitch I put down. She was a prick tease, and you’re a—

[Douglas] Ruben, all calls here are monitored. Watch what you say on—

[Lucero] It don’t matter if I’m dead. You don’t give a shit about me.

[Douglas] If this call is being monitored, I want to point out I’m this inmate’s attorney and this conversation is privileged.

[Lucero] Go get the damn box!

[Call disconnected.]

[End of recording.]

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