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“I told you what happened! I met Suzanne at the Walmart. We were supposed to go out to dinner, but she didn’t want to. She told me that there was something going on. That she wanted some time away from me to think. I was surprised, but I didn’t push it. Technically, we were breaking team rules by dating in the first place and I didn’t know if someone had come down on her about it. So when she got in her car and drove off, I didn’t follow her. I never saw her again, but I didn’t know that she was missing until I heard from Detective Collins.”
“Cole, I know. You’ve told it all to me many times. You’ve never wavered. And if we had your original statements, it would be easier to corroborate the facts. But we don’t. What the jurydoesknow is that Collins was a major Patriots fan and that you were a Patriots star. That could be enough to make the jury think he let you slide.”
Cole feels his jaw tightening. “Collins let me go because he knew I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But do you really want to give Bastinelli that opening? To dig into every time you lost your temper or made a careless joke? I’m telling you, as your attorney, that’s a losing strategy. Their case is circumstantial. No witnesses. No fingerprints. No DNA. My job is to make those circumstances seem ambiguous or irrelevant. I think I’ve accomplished that, and I’ll do it again in my closing.
“Cole, this is not a football game. This is alegalgame. And we need to quit while we’re ahead.”
Cole looks down at the table. His instinct is to put himself out there and fight, but he’s savvy enough to understand that would only undercut his own case. Make things harder for Maddy. He promised not to lose his temper again. And he’s trying. He’s really trying.
Hardy reaches over and puts her hand on top of his. “Cole, I need you to be okay with this. When we go back in there after recess, I’m going to speak only five words: ‘Your Honor, the defense rests.’”
CHAPTER
122
Kingston, New Hampshire
Stunned! Gobsmacked!” That’s how the talking head on CNN starts off his evening commentary.
I’m sitting on my hotel bed doing another Domino’s carb load, listening to the pundits’ interpretation of Cole Wright’s testimony.
“Tess Hardy took a big swing with her strategy today,” says the commentator, a gray-haired man in a pin-striped suit. “And I think it just might work. By resting her case early, she basically said to the prosecution, ‘We don’t think your evidence is even worth discussing. The burden of proof is on you and you haven’t proven a single thing.’”
The camera cuts to a legal analyst, a woman with a blond bob and thick-framed glasses. “I disagree. She had to put him up there to undercut the power of that disgusting photograph. But she should have left him up there to declare that he didn’t kill his girlfriend. The jury wanted to hear that.”
The camera cuts back to the first commentator. “If Tess Hardyhad opened that door, Hugh Bastinelli would have kept Cole Wright on the stand for the next two weeks explaining every detail of that relationship. You could see that he was ready to pounce.”
The blonde again. “You don’t think the world wanted to hear Cole Wright declare his innocence? Shout it from the mountaintops?”
“Tess Hardy will argue that he didn’t need to,” says the commentator. “She put him on the stand just long enough for the jurors to see that he’s a nice guy, a charming guy. To remind them of his days as a football star. She’s betting that she’ll be able to handle the rest in her closing argument and plant enough reasonable doubt to get an acquittal.”
The camera switches to the clean-cut anchor, a fill-in for Anderson Cooper. He looks right into the camera. “And we need to leave it there for now. When we come back, more news on the flash floods in California.”
I click off the TV.
I admit it. I, too, wanted more fireworks in court.
So it all comes down to tomorrow. Two closing arguments, back-to-back.
I hope Cole Wright gets what he deserves.
CHAPTER
123
The White House
In the East Room of the White House, President Madeline Wright walks past the full-length portrait of George Washington to the podium. She opens the leather binder with the presidential seal on the cover. She looks out over the room.
The space is empty except for Burton Pearce.
“What about flags?” asks the chief of staff.
“Flags?” asks Maddy.
“What flags do you want behind you for the announcement? Stars and Stripes?”