All the Pretty Girls - J. T. Ellison [47]
“I agree. There’s more there. So Terrence is running drugs out of Atlanta now?”
Page snorted. “Right now, Terrence could be walking on the moon. He’s really managed to build a reputation for himself. Did you know he’s moving around town with four bodyguards when he’s not in the lockup? That smacks of drugs to me, no pun intended. We don’t have anything on it though.”
“And the trial fell apart?”
“Yeah. His peers didn’t think we substantiated our facts. That’s a quote from the jury foreman, by the way. He’s out on the courthouse steps, talking to Channel fucking Four about it. And every other station that will listen.”
“Can’t you throw a gag order at them, or something?”
“No. Trial’s over, they’re free to say what they want. Terrence walked out of there like Michael Jackson, to the cheers of his fans. We have a serious problem here, Taylor. A really fucking serious problem.”
Energy spent, Page flopped in the chair, head down. “We had him. I absolutely can’t believe they acquitted him. This is the third time in the past few months. We have a serious problem,” she repeated. Page was talking to her chest now, and Taylor could feel the waves of frustration rolling off her like a desert breeze.
Terrence Norton was a nobody from nowhere. Just another kid from the projects who had himself a rap sheet a mile long, assault, burglary, rape, murder, drugs. He got around the criminal scene, and with each arrest, his street cred went a little higher. With each acquittal, he became stronger, more important in the community. He was becoming a legend, and that was the most perilous thing a young criminal in Nashville could be. If he’d gotten strong enough to be bringing in drugs from out of town, he was more dangerous than they realized.
Taylor understood why Page had come to her. Fitz had developed a sort of rapport with Terrence after his best friend was murdered by another bad guy in the projects. Fitz had been trying to get Terrence to admit that the thug, known as Little Man Graft, had shot Terrence’s friend. In the course of making the case, Terrence had been busted for shooting a homeless man. When he’d been brought in, Terrence immediately asked for Fitz, offering to turn on Little Man for some consideration on this latest shooting charge. His testimony had secured Little Man a cell on death row.
Fitz had worked a deal with the punk, knowing full well that the officers on the scene of the homeless shooting had recovered a gun that matched the description of what Terrence had been carrying. Fingerprint analysis proved Terrence handled the gun, and the ballistics matched the gun to the bullets that killed the homeless man. Still, this jury had seen fit to let him off the hook. Page was right. They did have a problem.
Taylor eyed the woman. “What do you think is going on?”
Page looked her straight in the eye. “Take your pick. Jury tampering, witness intimidation, a corrupt judge.”
Taylor laughed. “Yeah, right. Terrence Norton has gotten to Judge Hamilton. The man’s an icon in this town. He’s put away more criminals than you or I have ever met. There’s no way Hamilton’s involved.”
“You don’t think?” Page was staring harder, and Taylor felt a qualm in her stomach. Taylor’s own father had been convicted of interfering with the election of a federal judge, and had done time for it. Taylor wasn’t quite sure what Page’s glare was insinuating. Judges were bought with money. Terrence Norton didn’t have enough to get to a judge. Not yet.
“No, I don’t think.” Taylor returned the stare, her gray eyes steely. “Jury tampering and witness intimidation I can