Page 52 of The Guilty Trial

Allie kept the radio off as she drove north, letting the hum of the tires and the intermittent swipe of the wipers fill the silence.

Park had lied to them. She sat with them yesterday with red-rimmed eyes and lied right to their faces. When Allie had asked whether she ever felt pressure to adjust witness testimony, Park did more than just deny it. She showcased what Allie knew now was manufactured outrage, while wrapping herself in her grief and her fear for her son. And Allie almost believed her.

And to make it worse, the coercion Maria described wasn’t the work of one rogue attorney. Park coached witnesses with specific phrases and fabricated details, fed Maria dollar amounts to memorize, and told her to testify to things she had never seen. That level of orchestration suggested a system, not just an individual decision. Someone above Park had authorized it, or at the very least had looked the other way. Was it Sterling?

Allie thought about Judge Vance. He had denied every defense motion challenging the evidence. Carmichael, Torrino's defense attorney, raised concerns about late-appearing documents, about witnesses whose stories changed dramatically between depositions and trial. Vance shut all of it down. Had he known? Had he been part of it, bending the law to ensure a conviction the government desperately wanted?

Allie knew she was no longer investigating three murders. Now they were dealing with a conspiracy that sent a man to prison for life, and she still didn’t know how many people helped build it.

In spite of these disappointing and tragic revelations, she was beginning to feel some relief. All this time nothing had made sense. Even after they landed the connection to the evidence ledger, they were still missing the why behind it all. But Maria Delgado had just handed Allie a sure motive. Someone knew about the forged or manipulated evidence, and they had circled back around to ensure that the truth came to light.

The prosecution team hadn’t just bent the rules. They had broken them systematically and deliberately, and now someone was killing them for it.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

FBI Field Office

Tacoma, Washington

“Delivery for Agent Bishop.”

Hannah appeared in the doorway holding two cups of coffee. Her brunette pixie cut framed her face. She handed one of the cups to Allie and dropped into the empty chair beside the desk, tucking one leg underneath her as if she planned to stay awhile.

“You are a lifesaver,” Allie said, and eagerly wrapped both hands around the warm cup.

“I know.” Hannah took a sip from her own. “So I hear things have taken quite the turn around here?”

Allie stabbed a pencil through her bun and leaned back. “It’s complicated. But we’re making progress, which is more than I could say a week ago.”

“That’s something, at least.” Hannah’s expression brightened. “Speaking of progress, guess who made the school basketball team?”

“Zach?”

“Who else? He came home with the news on Tuesday and hasn’t stopped talking about it since. I’ve already heard fourteen different arguments for why he needs new shoes. Apparently, the ones he has are, and I quote, ‘not real basketball shoes.’” Hannah rolled her eyes, but the pride in her voice was unmistakable. “He’s eight. He doesn’t need Jordans.”

Allie smiled. “Give it a year. He’ll tell you he needs a different pair for home and away games.”

“Ugh, don’t even joke about that.” Hannah studied her for a moment. “How about you? How are you holding up?”

Allie turned the cup slowly in her hands. “I’m really missing Grams. The house is too quiet without her. I come home and there’s just nothing. No humming from the kitchen, no click of her crochet needles from the living room. It’s weird how much one tiny person can fill a house.”

Hannah reached over and squeezed her arm. “She’ll be home soon. Just hang in there. And you know you can always come over for dinner. Zach would love the audience for his basketball stories.”

“I might take you up on that.”

After she was gone, Allie glanced at the transcripts still spread across her desk. She gathered them into a neat stack and headed for the conference room. Marze was sitting at the head of the long table, his tie loosened and the lines around his eyes deeper than usual. Jason occupied his regular spot and restlessly tapped a pen on his legal pad, while Brandy and Mia sat side by side near the middle with their laptops open.

Marze didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Elias Thorne has been breathing down my neck all morning. He wants answers, and the DOJ is applying pressure from above. The U.S. Attorney wants to know when we’re going to catch this killer, and every day that passes without an arrest makes all of us look like we’re standing still.” He rubbed his mustache. “I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, but the timeline just got shorter. I need some solid leads, and I need them now.”

Allie had worked under pressure plenty of times before, and she knew her team had too, but this case, involving murdered federal officials, had its own particular gravity.

She raised her hand off the table. “I have something, and I wanted to wait until we were all together to bring it up. I interviewed Maria Delgado yesterday, one of the prosecution’s witnesses in the Torrino trial. She testified about the financial operations of Torrino’s organization.” Allie paused, knowing that what she was about to say was going to tip the entire investigation in a new direction. “She admitted that Sarah Park directly influenced her testimony. Park told her what to say on the stand, including things Delgado wasn’t certain about. Specifically, Delgado was instructed to testify that she personally witnessed Sal Torrino giving direct orders related to the financial operations. But she never did witness those things. Park also gave her specific dollar amounts to memorize and present as though she had firsthand knowledge of them.”

Nobody spoke. Mia muttered something under her breath. They all understood the significance of what they were hearing.

“Her false testimony became the foundation for the financial ledgers that Bob Halloway later presented to the jury,” Allie continued to explain. “The prosecution built one layer of fabrication on top of another. Delgado’s statements gave the ledgers credibility, while the ledgers gave the financial case its teeth.”

Jason nodded along. “It’s the same situation for me,” he interjected. “I interviewed Tommy Nguyen. He testified at the trial about physical evidence connected to the financial side of the prosecution. Nguyen told me that Park showed him documents before his testimony and instructed him on exactly what to say about them. He admitted he didn’t actually see what he claimed to have witnessed on the stand.” Jason set his pen down and looked around at his coworkers. “At this point, I think it’s pretty clear what happened. The prosecution didn’t have a solid case, so they manufactured one.”