“Dana, I don’t know who killed John. I can only guess. The only thing I know for certain is that it wasn’t me.”

“Exposed is going to put as much pressure as we can on the Supreme Court so it will send your case back for a new trial and give you a chance to prove that.”

“If they don’t, I want to die as soon as possible.”

“Don’t give up hope.”

The determination that had suffused Sarah’s features faded away, and she looked tired.

“I don’t have any hope, Dana. All I have are days that stretch on and on and are always the same. Do you have any idea what it’s like to sit in a small cell all day with nothing to keep you occupied but your thoughts? I had a life. I’ve stood on mountaintops that pierced the clouds. I’ve skydived through space, floating like an eagle. Now I see the sky once a day for a half hour. Now all I have is the strong possibility that I will die for something I did not do.”

During the return trip to Portland, Dana couldn’t stop thinking about Sarah Woodruff. Everything about her was impressive: her self-possession in the face of so much adversity, the way she’d survived her childhood and made something of herself when it would have been so easy to give up, and the way she’d confronted Dana when most people would have tried to curry favor. Dana knew the danger in drawing conclusions about guilt or innocence. She had not been in Sarah’s condo on the night Finley was murdered, but she couldn’t help but feel that had she been, she would have seen Finley leave the condo alive.

Whether Sarah was guilty or innocent, Dana found it hard to believe that a jury would convict if it was in possession of all of the facts. There would have to be a reasonable doubt in the mind of a fair juror who learned about the China Sea and the drug dealers who were found murdered in the forest. She hoped that Exposed could raise a big enough stink to sway public opinion, and she prayed that her investigation would help take Sarah Woodruff off death row.

Chapter Forty-six

Dana could not believe that Monte Pike was the chief criminal deputy in the district attorney’s office of a major metropolitan city. He looked more like a junior-high student than a law-school graduate; none of his clothes matched, and his hair was going in all sorts of directions, like the panicky participants in the running of the bulls. If Pike told her that he was blind and had dressed without help, Dana would have accepted the explanation. Dana also knew that the way Pike looked was deceiving. Mary Garrett had told her about the attorney’s Harvard degree and his reputation as a brilliant, fair, but hard-nosed adversary.

“Thanks for seeing me, Mr. Pike.”

“Hey, it’s not often I get to meet a celebrity. Nice work on Farrington. It takes guts to go up against the president.”

“I didn’t have much choice.”

“Still, most people would have crawled in a hole and shoveled dirt over themselves in your situation. So, what can I do for you?”

“As I told your secretary, I do some reporting for Exposed now, and the Woodruff case is my current assignment.”

Pike smiled. “I’m not surprised. It’s got conspiracies and CIA assassins, not to mention Mexican drug lords and ghost ships. And, like your paper’s other favorite subjects-the Abominable Snowman, ETs, and the Loch Ness monster-Woodruff’s defense is a complete work of fiction.”

“You’re saying that the China Sea, those five dead men, and the hashish never existed?”

Pike laughed. “The ship and the dead men are probably real. As to the hashish…” Pike shrugged. “We’ll never know for sure. No, it’s the defense that’s a work of fiction. Sarah Woodruff shot John Finley to death and dumped him in the park. Ninjas and Mexican hit men had nothing to do with it. That’s all part of Mary Garrett’s cleverly constructed smoke screen.”

“You sound like you’re pretty sure of yourself.”

“And you’re probably thinking that I’m one of these cocksure prosecutors who decides who the bad guy is, then picks and chooses the evidence, discarding anything that doesn’t fit his theory, but I’m not. Mary and I had this talk the first time she told me what Oswald had seen. I took a tough stand with her, but I double-checked every bit of evidence in the case as soon as she left my office.

“I take my position very seriously. I never, ever want to convict an innocent person. I just don’t think that Sarah Woodruff fits into that category. And if you want to know why, read my closing statement at her trial. I never try to win by being the more theatrical attorney. I teach, Miss Cutler. My trials are seminars about a particular incident, in which I explain to the jury why they can convict with a clear conscience. Believe me, if you uncover evidence that changes my mind about Woodruff’s guilt, I’ll be in the judge’s chambers that day asking for a stay of execution.”

Dana had seen many people make self-serving statements, but she could see that Pike was sincere.

“I did read your closing argument. In fact, I read the transcript of Miss Woodruff’s trial before I flew here. But I came to a different conclusion about the evidence you excluded. I think the jury was the proper body to decide its relevance. This whole business with the China Sea smells like a rogue operation, and people who conduct that kind of business would not hesitate to kill John Finley if they thought he was a threat.”

“I guess we have to agree to disagree. Besides, I didn’t invoke the state-secrets privilege, even if I agreed with its use. The feds did that.”

Dana saw she wasn’t going to get any more out of Pike, so she changed the subject.

“I understand that Max Dietz, the prosecutor who brought Miss Woodruff to trial the first time, has vanished.”

Pike stopped smiling. “He has.”

“Is there any new information about what happened to him?”

“His car was recovered from the airport, but it didn’t yield any clues that told us what happened to him. Some people think he hopped a plane for parts unknown because he was depressed, but I don’t buy that. None of his bank accounts were touched, and there’s been no action on his credit cards, so what is he living on?”

“What about the quarter of a million dollars Finley was supposed to have had?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that rumor. The problem is that no one has ever seen that money. I doubt that it ever existed. And if it did exist, the kidnappers or the people who rescued Finley have it, not Max Dietz.”

“Where was Dietz last seen?

“In his office. He asked his secretary for a handful of subpoenas. She brought them to him. A little later, he left. His secretary said that he seemed excited.”

“Do you know why he wanted the subpoenas?”

“No.”

“Were there any clues to Dietz’s disappearance in his house or office?”

“None we figured out.”

“What happened to his belongings?”

“They’re stored in a warehouse where we keep evidence in open cases.”

“Any chance I could see them?”

“Why, do you think they have anything to do with Woodruff?”

“I’m just curious.”

“You know he was off the case by then.”

“That’s what I understood.”

“So it’s not likely his disappearance has anything to do with your story.”

“I guess not.” Dana stood up. “Thanks for seeing me.”

“My pleasure. And I wasn’t kidding. If you come up with anything that clears Woodruff, let me know. Sending someone to death row is an awesome responsibility. I’d have a hard time living with myself if I were responsible for an innocent person’s execution.”

As soon as Dana walked out of the Multnomah County Courthouse, she checked the to-do list she’d written on the back page of her notebook. She had talked to everyone she wanted to question, and only one task remained.

Dana was scheduled to take a red-eye out of Portland International, but she had several hours before she had to be at the airport. Dana packed and checked out. Then she talked to the concierge. He told her that it would take forty-five minutes to drive to Shelby. She set her GPS for the address of the warehouse and headed out Highway 30 toward Astoria. The highway ran along the Columbia River and gave Dana a continuous view of the green and tan bluffs of Washington State on the far bank.