That figured. They’d need all the security they could get for a cop, and Twin Towers had maximum-security modules. “Got it.” I looked at my watch. “Okay, I’ll see you at the office.”
I ended the call. I was about to go to my computer and start typing up my notes for the To Do list when I got a premonition. I headed for my car instead.
And that is why, when Detective Wayne Little showed up at Dale’s house with an arrest warrant at eight thirty a.m., I was there waiting for him. I pointedly looked at my watch. “Guess the DA put a rush on that paperwork, after all. Thanks for the heads up.”
Detective Little, his arms hanging loosely from a square, dumpy body, just shrugged and answered in a flatly unapologetic voice, “Sorry ’bout that. We kind of got busy.”
Meanwhile, other detectives were cuffing Dale. I counted the blue-uniformed and sports-jacketed bodies. “Eleven men?” One of them started reading Dale his rights. I stepped over to him. “He’s not waiving.” I turned back to Little. “I assume you’ve got a search warrant as well?” He nodded. “I’ll have one of my associates on hand, just to make sure nothing gets… lost or dented.” Police can be careful or they can leave the place looking like it’d been through a hurricane. Judging by their last visit, the latter seemed more likely.
Starting now, I’d be making notes of every shitty thing they did. It’d all be part of my campaign to show the viewing public, AKA the jury pool, how Dale Pearson had been unjustly accused and mistreated-and by his own “family,” no less. I called Alex and told him to come over and stand watch while they served the warrant. “Keep your eyes open for any unnecessary roughness, and take notes and pictures.”
“Got it. I’m on my way.”
The officers milled around trying to decide who’d take Dale, who’d ride in the follow-car, and who’d stay and help serve the warrant. In the meantime-of course-the press got wind of what was going down, and a crowd of reporters was starting to gather in the street. “I’d like to talk to my client for a moment.”
Wayne Little looked like he wanted to argue. I hoped he did. It’d be another line on my List of Shitty Things They Did to Dale. I gave him a bland smile.
He finally seemed to realize this fight was a bad idea and waved to the officers holding Dale. “Let her.”
The officers stepped back a few feet, and I whispered in Dale’s ear. “The press is out there. I want you to walk out standing tall, no stooping, no hiding. Don’t say anything, and for God’s sake, whatever you do, don’t smile. Got it?”
