Taylor understood why Page had come to her. Fitz had developed a sort of rapport with Terrence after his best friend was murdered by another bad guy in the projects. Fitz had been trying to get Terrence to admit that the thug, known as Little Man Graft, had shot Terrence’s friend. In the course of making the case, Terrence had been busted for shooting a homeless man. All the Pretty Girls

143

When he’d been brought in, Terrence immediately asked for Fitz, offering to turn on Little Man for some consideration on this latest shooting charge. His testimony had secured Little Man a cell on death row. Fitz had worked a deal with the punk, knowing full well that the officers on the scene of the homeless shooting had recovered a gun that matched the description of what Terrence had been carrying. Fingerprint analysis proved Terrence handled the gun, and the ballistics matched the gun to the bullets that killed the homeless man. Still, this jury had seen fit to let him off the hook. Page was right. They did have a problem. Taylor eyed the woman. “What do you think is going on?”

Page looked her straight in the eye. “Take your pick. Jury tampering, witness intimidation, a corrupt judge.”

Taylor laughed. “Yeah, right. Terrence Norton has gotten to Judge Hamilton. The man’s an icon in this town. He’s put away more criminals than you or I have ever met. There’s no way Hamilton’s involved.”

“You don’t think?” Page was staring harder, and Taylor felt a qualm in her stomach. Taylor’s own father had been convicted of interfering with the election of a federal judge, and had done time for it. Taylor wasn’t quite sure what Page’s glare was insinuating. Judges were bought with money. Terrence Norton didn’t have enough to get to a judge. Not yet.

“No, I don’t think.” Taylor returned the stare, her gray eyes steely. “Jury tampering and witness intimidation I can buy. But not Judge Hamilton. And I think you’d be wise to stay away from that train of thought. ADAs have gone down for much less.”

144

J.T. Ellison

Page stood up, huffing. “What are you saying, Taylor? That you’ll report me for having doubts about why one of our most notorious criminals manages to walk out of court every damn time we arrest him, despite hard-core evidence?”

“Sit down. You know I’m not saying that. Jesus, Page, I think you’d know me better than that by now.”

Page was still puffed up, spoiling for a fight. “I’m coming to you because I trust you, Taylor. If there’s anyone in this town that I can believe in to see that this gets made right, it’s you. You’re not exactly the squeamish kind, you know?”

Taylor dropped Page’s gaze, rolling her neck to relieve the tension. Not squeamish. Page was right about that. Taylor had killed, and more than once. She’d fought her way out of bad situations before, with force when necessary, and had the scars to prove it. She wasn’t a violent woman by any means. No screaming fights, no broken glass, no beatings by a man. Yet the edge of mayhem lurked in the recesses of her mind, waiting. What female in any kind of law enforcement didn’t have some inkling of brutality bred in her? She fingered her neck and said softly, “Julia, sit down. Let’s talk.”

The fight went out of the ADA and she sat back down, suddenly looking like a vulnerable law student seeking quarter for a perceived transgression. She fiddled with a curl over her ear, and Taylor realized how young she really was. It was easy to forget how young they both were. Seeing death and destruction every day, living in the world of crime, made them older than their years.

All the Pretty Girls

145

“I think we’d do right to look at the jury and witness angles, rather than at Judge Hamilton. Terrence has a much better shot at intimidating the people of the community who come into contact with him or his thugs than he does a criminal-court judge.” Page started to say something, but Taylor held up a hand. “Now, I didn’t say I wouldn’t look into Hamilton. I just think it’s much more likely that Terrence is screwing with the people he has ready access to, that’s all.”

Mollified, Page nodded.

Taylor continued. “Okay then, here’s what I’ll do. You trust Pete Fitzgerald, right? My sergeant?”

“Of course I do. Fitz helped make this case against Terrence. From what I hear, he has some kind of relationship going with Terrence. A mutual-distrust society. I have no worries about him.”

“Then I’ll assign Fitz to you. I’ll make sure he’s up to speed on the situation, and send him over this afternoon. You guys come up with a plan for investigating this. And that’s all, Page. I don’t want to hear anything more from you about Hamilton. I’ll handle that side by myself. We can’t have you getting fired, now, can we?”

Taylor stood, indicating the conversation was over. Page stood as well, looked up at Taylor and raised an eyebrow. “I’m out on a limb here, Taylor. Don’t let me drop.” She reached for the doorknob and flung open the door. A flash of fresh air infiltrated the office. As Taylor watched the ADA’s retreating back, she reveled in the air, trying to use it to wash herself clean. A baby and a corrupt judicial system. What more could she ask for?

146

J.T. Ellison

There was only one thing for her to do. She placed a call to Sam, asking her to meet for dinner. Taylor needed a friend right now.

Taylor stepped from the CJC offices absently, lost in her own problems. If she’d just taken a moment, taken one quick glance out the door before she stepped into the dusky night, her life might have been a little easier. Instead, she was hit with a vicious onslaught.

“Lieutenant Jackson,” a shrill voice cried out. Taylor’s head snapped up. A news crew from the local CBS affiliate had taken up residence in the CJC parking lot, looking to ambush her as she left the building. They’d succeeded.

“Lieutenant, we’d like a comment from you on the Rainman case. Is it true that your suspect raped and beat Detective Betsy Garrison of the Sex Crimes Unit?”

Taylor was caught completely off guard. She paused, mind scrambling. Shit fire on a hell brick. How did they find out? She gathered herself, standing tall.

“Is it true, Lieutenant?”

Taylor searched the young girl’s face, trying to place her.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Edith Conrad, Channel Five News. It’s my first day,” she added proudly. “Is it true then? Detective Garrison is the latest victim of the notorious serial rapist, the Rainman? The same serial rapist that has been terrorizing Nashville’s women has gone so far as to assault a member of Nashville law enforcement.”

“You can stop proselytizing, Edith. I have no comment on the Rainman investigation. It is an ongoing investigation conducted by the Metro Nashville Sex Crimes All the Pretty Girls

147

Unit. We don’t comment on ongoing investigations. Since it’s your first day, I’ll let that transgression pass.”

She strode past the camera, purposely staring at a point five feet to the left.

“Lieutenant,” the girl called out to her back. “I’ll be broadcasting the information on the ten o’clock newscast. I just want to be sure I have the background correct.”

Taylor ignored her, continued walking across the parking lot.

“Lieutenant, it’s also come to our attention that there is DNA evidence in the case. Are you sure you don’t want to comment?”

Taylor swung around. “Where did you get that information?”

Edith smiled coyly. “A well-placed source. Are you willing to confirm or deny the information? Because we both know I’m right on the money with this one.”

Taylor stared at her briefly. The girl was petite, blond and thrilled with herself. Taylor did the only thing she knew to do.

“No comment.” She crossed the street in a hurry, heard the girl’s delighted voice behind her. “Did you get that?’ she asked her photographer. “Please tell me you got all of that.”