Page 47 of Fish in a Barrel

“You say these men were the ones rounding you up?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Did you ever think they were looking for you?”

“Well, ma’am, have you ever seen an officer with his telescoping rod out?”

She thought about it. “Sometimes.”

“You know how when they smack that thing against their hands, it sounds like a threat?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“They all had their rods out, and they were using them to poke people awake and then smacking them in their hands. The one guy who protested—he didn’t want to leave his dog alone in the rain—they beat him around a little and told him to shut the fuck up—their words, so don’t get mad. If they were looking for me specifically, ma’am, I did not want to be found. Not by them.”

“Did you and Mr. Rivers at any time assault these officers?” she asked. “Either in Sacramento or Redding?”

“No, ma’am. We defended ourselves because they were trying to kill us.”

“Likely story!” hooted Goslar, and Cody eyed him coldly.

“We can prove it,” he said.

Arizona looked surprised. “Really?” she asked. Cody nodded, but she was already looking at Ellery. “Really?”

“Yes,” Ellery said. “But we need to add my PI to the witness list.”

“Counselor for the prosecution,” Brentwood intoned, “do you have any objection to—”

“No,” Arizona said, and she looked over her shoulder, sending Jackson an apologetic look. “No objections at all.”

“Then our witness should step down,” Judge Brentwood said, sounding as though he was desperately trying to remember procedure. “We’ll break for fifteen minutes and then return to question Mr. Rivers before lunch.”

“May Mr. Gabriel leave to receive medical care?” Ellery asked quickly.

Brentwood looked put out, but apparently Arizona’s refusal to treat the witness badly had put him in a position in which he couldn’t enact draconian measures.

“He can’t leave town,” he declared irritably.

“Sir, he’s under the protection of Federal Marshals. I don’t think disappearing is going to be a problem.” Ellery sounded both smooth and faintly condescending. This—this—was the snotty little prick who had gotten under Jackson’s skin foryearsbefore they’d hooked up.

Brentwood opened his mouth in outrage, looking to where Albright and Foy were standing, waiting for Cody to exit the courtroom. “Why does he need protection?”

“Well, sir, I imagine after this the DA will want to bring charges against the witnesses for the prosecution. Just an idea, sir.” He turned toward Cody before Brentwood could give a response. “Mr. Gabriel, you are allowed to go. Ms. Cameron will have texted directions to your facility to agents Foy and Albright. I….” Jackson saw him look around and knew Ellery was wishing he had a private moment to thank Cody Gabriel. “Mr. Rivers and I will be in touch to see how you’re doing. That’s a promise.”

“I appreciate it,” Cody said humbly. He stood from the witness stand, and Jackson could see that underneath the charm and humor, his much-too-large suit was soaked with sweat.

Cody left, escorted by Albright and Foy, and the courtroom rustled. The members of the press ran to text their editors to see if there was anything bigger they needed to pay attention to, and the people who just liked to watch went running for the bathroom while the going was good.

Ellery sat down at the defense table and turned around partially so he could talk quietly with Jackson, Henry, Jade, Arturo, Annette Frazier, and her husband.

“You two are free to go,” he said quietly. “And thank you.”

“Do we have to?” Annette asked. “I… I would really like to see this through for Ezekiel.”

Arturo leaned forward and touched Ezekiel lightly on the shoulder. “Did you hear that, Zee? We’ve got more people in our corner.”

Ezekiel’s speech was muddled, between the jaw wire and the disability, but Jackson could hear “Thank you” loud and clear.