Chapter 28
Rehearing
On Friday of the next week Ryan had scheduled the deposition of Samantha Jones in her wrongful death case against Cindy Sharp. Since Samantha wasn’t likely to talk to Matt or Ryan they decided the only way to get needed information out of her would be to take her deposition. Presumably she would tell the truth rather than risk a charge of perjury.
As was the custom Ryan went to the offices of Richmond & Richmond for the deposition. The court reporter he had hired was already there setting up. The receptionist brought them coffee. A moment later Samantha walked in flanked by Marvin Richmond.
Samantha was dressed conservatively in a navy blue suit and was noticeably restrained. Normally she was extremely talkative, but on this occasion she didn’t say a word. Richmond looked dashing in his $2,000 suit and fiery red power tie. Ryan wondered why he had chosen to dress up for a nonvideo deposition. Ryan often didn’t even bother to wear a suit to a deposition; however, today he had, figuring it might make it look like he wasn’t taking the lawsuit seriously if he came in casual attire.
The court reporter got the names of the parties and the attorneys and then said she was ready.
Ryan cleared his throat and then began by asking Samantha about her background, education, work history, and relationship to Lucius Jones. After forty-five minutes he got to the crux of the matter.
“Now, you have claimed in your original petition that Cindy Sharp killed your husband, is that correct?”
“Yes. That’s correct.”
“Did you see her kill him?”
“No.”
“Do you know someone who saw her kill him?”
“No.”
“Were you in your husband’s office on the date he was killed?”
“No.”
“So, why do you think Cindy Sharp killed your husband?”
“She was recorded on a video surveillance camera a block away about the time he was killed,” Samantha replied evenly.
“Okay, I’m going to show you what has been marked as ‘Exhibit 1,’ ” Ryan said, handing her a single sheet of paper. She took it.
“Yes.”
“Can you identity this?”
“It says it’s a subpoena duces tecum.”
“Right. Was that served on you recently?”
“Yes. I believe so.”
“It’s a list of things you were to bring to this deposition, right?”
“Correct.”
“Please read item number one.”
Samantha sighed. “Ah. ‘Any videotapes in your possession that depict any facts relevant to this lawsuit.’ ”
“Okay. Did you bring any videotapes with you today?”
“No.”
“Why not? You just testified that Cindy Sharp was captured on a video camera near the scene of your husband’s murder about the time he was murdered.”
“I don’t have the tape.”
“Who does?”
“The police.”
“What police?”
“Ah. I don’t know. The Dallas police, I guess.”
“Have you ever viewed this video recording?”
“No.”
“So, what makes you think there is one?” Ryan asked.
“Detective Morin mentioned it.”
“But you don’t know for sure what’s on it?”
“No. I haven’t seen it,” Samantha admitted.
“What other facts support your claim that Cindy Sharp killed your husband?”
“She threatened him once over her foreclosure.”
“Were you there when she threatened him?”
“No.”
“What makes you think she threatened him?”
“Lucius told me.”
“When did this alleged threat take place?”
“A few days after she was foreclosed.”
“What did she allegedly say that you thought was a threat?” Ryan asked.
“She said he would pay for treating people the way he did.”
“And you think that’s a threat to kill him?”
“Sure, what else could she have meant?”
“Ah. Maybe that a jury might award her a million dollars’ damages?”
Samantha laughed. “Well, that’s not what she meant.”
“In your opinion?”
“In my opinion and lots of other people’s.”
“Okay. So, what other evidence do you have that Cindy Sharp killed your husband?”
Samantha shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll leave that up to my attorneys.”
“So, right now you don’t know of any other evidence to link Cindy Sharp to the murder.”
Samantha looked over at Richmond, who was holding up a finger. “Oh. I think there are fingerprints.”
“Fingerprints? How do you know there are fingerprints?”
“Detective Morin told me about them.”
“Where were the alleged fingerprints found?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Detective Morin.”
“You testified that Cindy Sharp had threatened your husband, right?”
“Yes.”
“Where did that happen?”
“She came by his office.”
“Right after she was foreclosed, right?”
“Yes.”
“So, she could have left her fingerprints then, right?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Detective Morin,” Samantha repeated.
“Has Cindy Sharp been charged with your husband’s murder?” Ryan asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.”
“So, the police don’t have enough evidence to charge Cindy Sharp, yet you brought this lawsuit. Why is that?”
“Because it’s easier to prove your client killed my husband here in this civil court rather than in a criminal court.”
“So, you believe that the evidence you’ve testified to today is enough to prove in this court that Cindy Sharp killed your husband.”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“Isn’t there another reason?”
“No. That’s it.”
“Didn’t you really bring this lawsuit to distract attention away from Cindy Sharp’s lawsuit against Reliable Mortgage Servicing?”
Samantha shook her head. “No. Not at all. She killed my husband, and she’s gonna pay.”
“Does that mean you’re going to kill her if she’s found innocent?”
“No. Of course not. I mean the jury will award me money.”
“Isn’t that what Cindy meant when she said your husband would pay?”
Samantha didn’t answer.
“Did you husband have insurance on his life at the time of his death?”
“Ah. Yes.”
“How much?”
Samantha looked at Richmond, but he just shrugged. Objections weren’t generally allowed in deposition, fortunately. “Ah. Well. He had $250,000 group insurance and a half-million-dollar whole life policy.”
“So, $750,000 total insurance?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t that give you more of a motive to kill your husband than Cindy Sharp’s foreclosure?”
“I loved my husband,” Samantha spat. “I wouldn’t have killed him.”
“Weren’t you getting ready to divorce him?”
“No.”
“So, you hadn’t seen a divorce lawyer?”
“Well. Yes, I had a consultation.”
“So, where were you when your husband was murdered?”
“At the beauty parlor having my nails done.”
“That’s kind of late to be having your nails done, wasn’t it?”
“Well, the shop stays open for us working girls who can’t get off during the day.”
“What’s the name of the shop?”
“The Clip Shop on Knox Avenue. Rita Shipley is the owner. You can ask her.”
“I will. Thank you, Ms. Jo
nes. No further questions.”
The deposition went on and on as depositions do. Fortunately there was a six-hour maximum according to the agreed discovery plan that controlled the deposition. When it was over Ryan was wiped out but relieved. He had been right—Samantha didn’t have any evidence that they didn’t already know about. Still, a video putting Cindy near the crime scene, threats toward the victim, and fingerprints in the reception area of the victim’s office might be enough to convince a jury that Cindy was guilty—not beyond all reasonable doubt, but possibly by a preponderance of the evidence, which was the standard in a civil trial.
That night Amanda had gone out to meet a potential client. Ever since his father’s arrest Ryan and Amanda’s relationship had been strained. It was no secret that Erica blamed the arrest and indictment on Amanda. And as much as he tried to fight it, Ryan was leaning in that same direction himself. He was pondering the situation when his cell phone rang.
“Ryan?”
“Yes.”
“This is Mia.”
“Mia?” Ryan repeated, trying to place the name.
“I’m a friend of Matt.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Matt had me doing a little undercover investigation for him.”
Suddenly Ryan remembered Matt telling him about Mia and the hot tub. Ryan pictured a slinky naked brunette stepping into the water.
“Ryan? Are you there?”
“Oh, right. Okay. Yeah. I remember him saying something about it.’
“Well, I’m ready to give you my report. Matt is tied up so he said to call you.”
“Sure. Right. Ah. How do you want to do it? I mean—”
“I’m at a club right now but it’s too noisy to talk. Plus I’m famished. How about meeting me at the Cheesecake Factory on Northwest Highway?”
“That’s great. When?”
“It will take me ten minutes to get there.”
“Hmm. I’m probably twenty minutes away.”
“Good. Then see you in twenty.”
“I’ll be there,” Ryan said and hung up.
As he was freshening up to go meet Mia, Amanda walked in the front door. He smiled at her and took a deep breath. “Ah, I’m just leaving. Meeting a witness.”
Amanda looked at her watch. “At 10:22 at night?”
“Uh-huh,” Ryan said, not feeling like explaining himself.
“What’s her name?” Amanda spat.
Ryan gave her a hard look, anger welling within him. Who was this woman? He thought he had known her and loved her, but now he wondered. She’d become secretive and evasive and had lost the sparkle in her eyes that he’d loved so much. He thought of Mia waiting for him.
“Mia,” he said. “I’ll be late, so don’t wait up.”
Amanda scowled at him, but before she could say anything he had rushed past her and was out the door. Traffic was light on Central Expressway so he made good time to Northwest Highway. The usually heavy crowd at the Cheesecake Factory had dwindled down, so Ryan found Mia without any trouble and they were quickly seated in a booth. Ryan looked across at Mia and smiled. His mental picture of her hadn’t been far off. She wore a short black cocktail dress with a large diamond hanging from a gold chain. But the diamond wasn’t the focus of Ryan’s attention. He couldn’t get the image of Mia in the hot tub out of his head.
“So, I just left Brett off at his house. He was hammered so I had to drive him home.”
Ryan nodded. “I guess that happens a lot in your line of work, huh?”
“Yeah. But that’s okay. If he were half-sober he’d have wanted to take me to bed, and then I would have had a problem.”
“I bet,” Ryan said with a wry smile.
“Anyway. I got him talking about his business, like Matt asked, and he spilled his guts to me.”
The waitress came over and took their orders. Mia ordered a full dinner and Ryan got cheesecake and coffee.
“So, what did Mr. Smith have to say?”
“It turns out he’s Lucius’s brother-in-law, Samantha’s younger brother.”
“Really? That’s interesting.”
“Lucius and he set up Prime Holdings, I think they call it. They buy the property that Lucius’s company forecloses on.”
“Right. I knew that.”
“It’s a pretty lucrative business, I guess, because all they have to do is bid enough to pay off the note.”
“Right. So they get all the equity in the property, if there is any.”
“He says they only buy property if it will at least break even.”
“That makes sense, but I would think they’d want to make a profit.”
“Well, they get money under the table, apparently,” Mia explained.
“How does that work?”
“I don’t know for sure, something about real estate commissions, title company fees, inspection fees, legal fees . . . and something else, I don’t remember what it was . . . oh, rehab?”
“Right. When they foreclose they often have to go in and fix the place up to make it saleable. Did he mention the contractor who did that?”
“Yes. He owns part of that company, too.”
Ryan laughed. “Jesus! He has his finger in everything.”
“Yes, I think his cousin runs the construction company.”
“I wonder how many foreclosures they do in a year?” Ryan mused.
“He said over two hundred in the Dallas Metroplex alone,” Mia said, “and over five thousand nationwide.”
Ryan shook his head. “Damn.”
The waitress came with their orders. Mia began eating eagerly. Ryan fixed his coffee with two Splendas and a little cream and started working on his strawberry cheesecake.
“Well, you’re quite the detective,” Ryan complimented.
Mia smiled as she took a bite of a dinner roll and chewed it slowly. When she was done chewing she said, “It was fun. Usually listening to businessmen drone on about their work puts me to sleep, but since I needed to report back to you guys on what I heard, it was actually kind of interesting.”
“Well, we really appreciate what you did. Send us your bill.”
“No. I’m not sending you a bill. I did it as a favor to Matt.”
“Well, can we do something for you? Any legal work you need done?”
“Yeah. You handle divorces?”
“Well, occasionally. They’re not really my cup of tea.”
“Mine would be uncontested. I haven’t seen my Charlie for over a year. We don’t have any children or property so it would be pretty simple.”
“I can handle simple,” Ryan said. “You’ll have to come by my office, though. My secretary does all the paperwork. I just go with you to the courthouse when the time comes to prove it up.”
“Great. I’ll feel better when Charlie is history.”
Ryan really didn’t want to hear about Mia’s relationship with Charlie, but he knew women liked to talk about those things, so he resigned himself to becoming a good listener.
“So, he beat you up or something?” Ryan asked.
“No. He cheated on me.”
“Hmm. Men. You can’t trust them.”
Mia smiled. “What about you? Are you trustworthy?”
Ryan thought about that. “Generally, but my girlfriend and I are starting to drift apart, I think.”
“Really? How come?”
Ryan looked at Mia, wondering if she really wanted to hear about his crumbling relationship with Amanda. “It’s a long story. I’d hate to bore you with it.”
“Well, from what Candy tells me, anything involving the Colemans will be far from boring.”
Ryan shrugged. “Okay, but stop me if it becomes tedious.”
Mia smiled broadly. “If my eyes close and I slump over and start snoring you’ll know I’m bored.”
Ryan laughed and then started telling Mia everything that had happened from the day he’d met Amanda. As he talked she looked him in the eyes and listened attentively. Occasionally she
’d laugh or ask a question, but mostly she just listened to Ryan release pent-up emotions that had been festering for months.
“Wow,” Ryan said, looking at his watch. “I can’t believe I’ve been ranting for over an hour. I’m sorry. You should have stopped me.”
“No. It was fascinating. Don’t you feel better?”
“Yes. I feel wonderful, actually,” Ryan said and then frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
He sighed. “Oh, I’m not looking forward to going back to the apartment and being confronted by Amanda.”
“Hmm. You’re right. That would be bad,” Mia said, seeming to be struggling with something in her head. Finally she said, “I guess you could come crash at my place.”
Ryan looked up at Mia, trying not to show the shock and excitement he was feeling. “Seriously?”
“Sure, why not? You can crash on my sofa.”
Ryan smiled. “You don’t have a hot tub, do you?”
Mia laughed. “No. Sorry.”
Ryan shrugged. “That’s okay. Matt’s told me about some nice hot tub parties over at Candy’s place.”
“Ah, right. Well, I suppose I could throw in a massage.”
Ryan’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Yes. But just a massage,” Mia stressed.
Ryan nodded. “Don’t worry. That’s a hell of a lot more than I’d get if I went home.”