Wallace and Faraday exchanged another look, but finally Wallace shrugged and moved to Faraday’s phone. We waited while he was patched through to the warden. “Warden Thomas,” Wallace said, all smiles and confidence. “It’s Kevin Wallace.” There was a pause, then, “I’m good, sir, and you?”
I tapped my foot with impatience while Wallace exchanged pleasantries. “Listen, the reason I’m calling is to check in on Javier Martinez. I wanted to make sure he’s enjoying his—” Wallace’s voice cut off, and that smug expression he’d worn since picking up the phone fell away like shattered glass. “What?” he said, turning slightly away from us to stare at the mug shot of Martinez. “When?” Faraday leaned forward in his chair, his focus intent on Wallace, who was now asking, “Why wasn’t I informed?”
I dropped my chin and took a relieved breath. Maybe now they’d listen.
Wallace hung up, his lips pressed tightly together. “She’s right,” he said. “Martinez was stabbed with a shiv last week. He died a day later, the same date she wrote up there.”
For a long time no one spoke, but I could practically see Faraday’s wheels turning, and I didn’t like it. “Still doesn’t prove anything,” he said to Donny, with only a fraction less conviction than he’d had at the start of our meeting.
“You’re kidding, right?” my uncle shot back.
“Listen, Fynn, both of you have been in this office before.” Waving at the mug shots Faraday added, “How do we know that you two didn’t write down the names of all these bastards and hit the Internet to research them and find out who was dead? If these guys are in the prison system, then anybody with a computer could look up their info. Even Martinez’s information would have been posted online.”
Donny glared hard at him. “Maddie doesn’t have a computer, remember? You took it.”
Faraday rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but I’m betting you’ve got a laptop in that briefcase.”
Donny reached for my hand. “We’re done here,” he said.
“Thanks again for the file,” Wallace said as we got up and headed toward the door.
Donny didn’t say a word as we stormed out. At last we reached his car, and he opened my door for me, his anger evident by the set of his jaw. When I hesitated he said, “You getting in?”
“It’s so unfair,” I started.
Donny sighed and his expression softened. “It is,” he agreed. “But, Maddie, you have to realize that people like Wallace and Faraday get tunnel vision when it comes to stuff like this. They get so focused on trying to make all the jigsaw puzzle pieces fit that they lose sight of the big picture. With the Robert Carter murder we’ve got a solid case for reasonable doubt, and the district attorney’s bound to realize that. All they’ve got is flimsy circumstantial evidence right now. And there’s nothing to tie you or Stubby directly to the murders.”
I nodded and reluctantly slid into the car. Still, I didn’t like the lines of worry at the edges of Donny’s eyes. If Wallace and Faraday couldn’t be convinced I was telling the truth after what I’d shown them with the mug shots, then how would a jury ever believe me?
I COULDN’T GET OUT OF school fast enough on Monday. There’d been big changes waiting for me when I arrived that morning: Principal Harris had been suspended, my American Lit paper had been upgraded to a B, and I was now being escorted from class to class by the teacher assigned to monitor the hallways for that period.
I should have been glad for all of that, and I was to a degree, but everything that was being done to help me feel safe actually made me feel even more exposed and uncomfortable. There was a kind of tension around me from students and teachers alike, like a bubble of unease and hostility that I couldn’t get away from until I was out of the building.
So, the second the final bell rang, I bolted for the door. I had to get home and call Donny about Stubby’s pretrial. To my surprise, when I rounded the corner to my street, I saw my uncle sitting in his car parked in the driveway. “Hey!” I said when I came up next to him.
“Hey,” he replied tiredly. It was then that I noticed he looked like hell.
I knew immediately the pretrial hadn’t gone well. Tensing, I asked, “What happened?”
Donny didn’t answer. Instead he rolled up the window and opened the car door. After getting out and locking it, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and said, “Come on. Let’s go inside and I’ll explain.”
Once we were inside, Donny called out for Ma. She came into the kitchen warily, as if she sensed he was the bearer of bad news. “What’s happened?” she asked.
Donny motioned for us both to sit down. Ma took ahold of my hand once we were seated, and we waited for Donny to talk. He didn’t sit down. Instead he got himself a drink of water and leaned against the kitchen sink. “I have a lot to tell you. Most of it’s bad. You should brace yourself, Maddie.”
I swallowed hard and Ma squeezed my hand. I could feel my breath coming quicker. I wanted Donny to blurt it out so that I could begin to process the bad news. “Tell us,” I begged.
Donny sighed and set his water glass down. “Stubby’s being held over for trial. His bond has been set at five hundred thousand dollars. I’ve talked to his mom and she doesn’t have the fifty grand it would take to secure a loan from a bondsman, so she’s trying to get ahold of his dad in California, but it’s not looking good. Stubby may have to remain in jail until the trial.”
I sucked in a breath. “How long until the trial?” I asked.
“A year,” Donny said. “Maybe eighteen months.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Isn’t there anything you can do?” How would my friend survive a year in prison?
“I did everything I could for him today, Maddie, I swear, but the feds have dug up some compelling evidence.”