“Depending on the judge,” Tillie says, “he might throw the case out before it even goes to trial. Most cases of self-defense are ruled justified homicide if there’s a witness to corroborate the defendant’s story.”
“There’s no one to corroborate his story, though” I say.
Both Ryan and Tillie look at Sloan. Ryan nudges his head at her. “Sloan’s story will most likely corroborate his claim of self-defense.”
“How?” Sloan says, flabbergasted.
Ryan stands up and walks around the bed, leaning against the wall nearest Sloan.
“Was the victim attacking you?” he asks.
Sloan nods.
“Was he holding a gun?”
Sloan nods again.
“Was he impersonating an officer?”
Another nod.
“Did you scream for help?”
She doesn’t nod this time. A tear just pours down her cheek. “Twice,” she whispers.
“And how did you feel when Asa walked into the room?” Ryan asks. “A jury is going to ask you these questions under oath.”
A sob breaks from her chest. “Relieved,” she whispers through tears. “Terrified. And relieved.”
Ryan nods. “That’s enough to back up his claims, Sloan. He rescued you from an attacker. That’s hardly murder in the eyes of a jury, no matter how evil we all know he is. His whole character isn’t what will be on trial. Only that one action.”
“But…” Sloan wipes tears from her eyes. “He didn’t have to shoot him. He could have stopped him without killing him.”
Ryan nods in agreement. “I know he could have. We all do. But the jury won’t know Asa like we do. And they’ll put you up on the stand and tear you apart, Sloan. They’ll make Asa look like the victim, because you’re his fiancé. Yet you were knowingly having an affair with the undercover cop who was developing a case against him. That will lend sympathy to Asa’s case and your testimony against Asa will lose any and all credibility in the eyes of the jury.”
“But,” she stands up, wiping at her eyes. “What about your case against Asa? Won’t that back up my claims? Won’t that have any bearing on the potential murder charge?”
Ryan’s eyes meet mine. He releases a rush of air and then walks back to the couch. “That’s another reason why we’re here,” he says. “Young doesn’t want to move forward with any charges in our investigation. None of our reports were complete because our investigation was still ongoing. Young is afraid if we press charges and this goes to trial, the department will be ripped to shreds in the press. It doesn’t look good that one of our cops was involved in an affair with our main subject’s fiancé. The fact that we broke cover to fake agents. They’re afraid the chances of Asa actually being charged with anything are far less than the chances of us ruining the department’s reputation. Young is requesting the case be closed and no charges be filed. He says it’s not worth the risk.”
“Oh my God,” Sloan says, taking a seat on the bed. She drops her elbows to her knees and holds her head in her hands. “This is all my fault,” she whispers.
I reach over and pull her hand to mine. “Sloan, it’s not your fault. It’s my fault. I was the one on duty.” I look up at Ryan. “What about the fact that he tried to kill me? He shot me in the chest and that wasn’t self-defense. He’ll be charged with that, right?”
I can see the roll of Ryan’s throat as he swallows.
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” I whisper, dropping my head against the headboard.
“He’s claiming self-defense in that case, too,” Ryan says. “You both shot each other. Sloan was the only witness in the room. I can only testify to what I heard from outside the door.”
“He almost killed me, Ryan!”
Ryan and Tillie both glance at each other. Tillie clears her throat and then says, “The thing is, Luke…with the shit storm of that whole day, if the DA charges him with anything, chances are, you’ll be charged, too. And you’ll both go to trial.”
“I’ll be charged? What the fuck will I be charged with?”
“It depends on the judge. Felony assault…attempted murder. And without the department taking the case to court…it will look like you and Asa just had a standoff in a bedroom. The result of a love triangle gone wrong.”
I can hear Sloan crying now.
I can’t even force another question; my mind is going in all fucking directions now. “So you’re telling me that not only does this sick fucker have a chance at getting away with everything he did…I’m looking at facing charges?”