by BJ Bourg
“But why?”
“Because they’re embarrassing to me and my friend,” Kim said with a start. “We were drunk and didn’t mean to do it. It would ruin our reputations.”
David was about to tell her that she was very attractive and that a nude video of her and another woman was nothing to be embarrassed about, but then he remembered the digital recorder was still rolling.
“So, would you have cooperated with Clint had the nude videos not been on the device?”
“Yes, absolutely, especially if I thought it might help him find Ralph’s killer.”
“But now you know it was Clint who killed Ralph, right?”
Kim hesitated again, but this time even longer. When she spoke, she was no longer sure of herself. “I mean, I’m pretty sure he’s the one who attacked me, but I don’t know who killed Ralph because I wasn’t there.”
“Didn’t you tell me you were 100% sure Clint Wolf attacked you?” David asked, his blood starting to boil. He needed this woman to be sure of herself. There was no way the district attorney would go after a decorated cop like Clint Wolf unless the woman was absolutely positive it was him—and the DA would also want some physical evidence to back it up.
“Yes, sir.”
“And do you stand by that statement, or were you lying to me?”
“I…I stand by it.”
“And, other than Clint Wolf, can you think of anyone else who might have a reason to kill your husband?”
“No, sir.”
David quickly ended the recording before Kim could say anything else that might jeopardize the case. As soon as he stopped the recording, he played it back and listened to several sections to make sure it had successfully captured her voice. He had never had a recording fail, but an instructor at an interview school once told a horror story about getting a recorded confession from a murderer only to find out later it hadn’t picked up a single word. By the time the instructor had realized the error the suspect had already requested a lawyer and refused to talk any further.
“If you don’t remember anything else I’ve said during this entire week,” the instructor had announced loudly, “remember to check the damn recording before you release the subject!”
“That’ll be all for now,” David told Kim. “I’ve got your contact information. I wouldn’t advise returning to your home until I have Clint Wolf in custody.”
“When will that be?” she asked.
“I want to meet with the district attorney before securing the arrest warrant,” he explained. “But first, I’ve got to review the surveillance footage from your house and speak with my crime scene personnel. If I can meet with DA Hedd first thing in the morning, then it should be later in the day. Keep in mind that the DA might want to get your testimony under oath before I make my move, so I need you to be ready to tell your story again. He might also want to convene a grand jury. If that happens, it would delay the arrest.”
“But…what about in the meanwhile?” Kim shivered. “What if he finds out I told on him and he comes back and finishes what he started?”
“Where will you be staying tonight”—David glanced at his watch—“well, this morning?”
“I’ll go to my mom’s house. She lives in Northern Chateau.”
“Okay, I’ll have four of my best Troopers escort you to her house and they’ll provide around the clock protection until Clint is in custody.” He reached out and touched her bandaged hand. “Will that make you feel better?”
Kim forced a smile and nodded.
CHAPTER 24
Clint and Susan’s House
I didn’t sleep a wink. I lay on my back staring up into the darkness for most of the night. When the window in our bedroom began to brighten from the rising sun, I rose to a seated position and eased my feet to the floor.
“You don’t have to be quiet,” Susan said softly from her side of the bed. “I’m up. I’ve been up all night.”
I sat still for a moment. I had been wrestling with my thoughts all night, but for the life of me, I hadn’t been able to figure out what was going on. All that had been accomplished was a loss of a good night’s sleep, and that wouldn’t serve me well.
“What’re we gonna do?” Susan asked.
I thought about the question for a long moment. Should I contact a lawyer? And say what, exactly? That I’d received an anonymous call to lawyer up? Did I need a criminal lawyer or a civil one? Was I being accused of a crime or being sued? I shook my head and gritted me teeth. This was getting me nowhere.
I stood to my feet and looked down at my beautiful wife, who had propped herself up on her right elbow. Her long brown hair flowed down across her left breast. When she saw the look in my eyes, she gasped.
“How can you think of sex at a time like this?”
I grinned sheepishly, but didn’t say anything as I headed for the bathroom.
“Clint, what are we gonna do?” she demanded. “We have to come up with a plan.”
I stopped outside the bathroom door and looked at her again. She had rolled out of bed and was pulling on a night shirt.
“As for me, I’ll get dressed for work, eat breakfast, and then go solve this murder case.”
Susan stammered for a moment. “But what about Mallory’s warning? Shouldn’t we see someone? Shouldn’t we get a lawyer?”
“And tell them what?” I asked. “That I received a mysterious call telling me to lawyer up? I don’t even know what I’ve supposedly done, so I don’t know what kind of lawyer to call. Whatever’s going on and whoever’s after me, I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me sweat.”
Susan stood staring at me for a long moment. I could see the color starting to pool in her cheeks. Having been a fighter her entire life, she knew a thing or two about scrapping. Finally, she nodded and said, “I’m with you. Let’s go kick this day’s ass.”
My mom arrived just as Susan and I were feeding Grace some grits and scrambled eggs. She and Susan’s mom took turns watching Grace while we both worked. While it was convenient for us, it was an absolute joy for them. If one of them couldn’t make it for some reason, the other would eagerly take over. There had only been a few times when neither granny could be here, and Susan or I would take Grace to work with us or one of us would take a vacation day.
I wasn’t very hungry, so I ate a bowl of Life cereal. My mom, who seemed to always be fussing over me lately, noticed my half-eaten breakfast.
“Clint, what’s the matter with you?” I could hear the genuine concern in her voice. “Why aren’t you eating?”
“I’m busy,” I said simply. “I’ve got a murder to solve.”
“Oh, yeah, I heard about that.” She nodded thoughtfully. “I heard something’s going on up the road, too. One of my friends from church said there were state police cars all around their house last night and into this morning.”
“Really?” I tried to only show casual interest in her story. “What were they doing out there?”
“She didn’t know. She called the pastor to see if he had heard something, but no one knows anything.”
I spoke with her for a few more minutes before kissing Grace and heading to the back yard, where my dogs had been lounging lazily in the sun. Achilles got immediately to his feet and stretched. Coco whined and turned onto her back, wriggly in delight. I rubbed Achilles’ head for a while and then moved to Coco.
“I’ll see y’all later,” I said. “I’ve got to go find a killer. I wish I could take y’all with me, but I’m not sure where the evidence will lead.”
Achilles glanced up at me as though to say he’d rather stay home anyway, and Coco acted like I hadn’t said anything at all. Susan met me in the back yard and moved close to me. She looked up with her dark brown eyes.
“What do you think it is?”
“Well, if state troopers are all over the Plant home and Kim can’t be reached by her family, then that can only mean she’s dead.” I took a long breath. “And if she’s dead, I would’ve b
een the last person to see her alive, so they must think I killed her.”
Susan nodded. “That’s what I was thinking, but this can be easily explained away. You and I left her house together and you went to the tire shop to question Orrin, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then it’ll be easy to prove your whereabouts, because the tire shop has surveillance equipment.” She suddenly snapped her fingers. “Kim and Ralph have surveillance cameras, too, so it’ll prove that she was alive when we left her house.”
I took a breath.
“What is it, Clint?” Susan’s eyes clouded over. “What’s wrong?”
“After I left the tire shop, I went back to the Plant residence,” I explained. “It must’ve been around four o’clock. I didn’t go all the way to the house, though. I just parked alongside the road and waited. Someone must’ve seen my vehicle there.”
“But why would you go back there?”
“Instead of driving back to Mechant Loup, I decided to wait for Mallory to show up with the search warrant. When she called at about four-twenty-five to say the judge refused to sign it, I left and started hitting the gas stations.”
Susan began chewing on her lower lip. “So, there’s about twenty-five minutes of time you can’t account for.”
“Oh, I can account for it,” I said with a grunt. “I was near the scene of whatever happened out there. I didn’t see or hear anything. If she was murdered, I’d feel like shit. I was parked out there doing nothing when I could’ve gone in and saved her life.”
“Shit, Clint.” Susan stopped chewing her lip and began pacing the yard in front of me. Achilles could tell something was wrong, and he sat fully erect, waiting for a command to do something about the problem. “Look, they can’t possibly come after you without evidence—right?”
“Sue, I’ve worked with a lot of state police detectives when I was in La Mort, and many of them were troopers before going to the bureau, so they don’t have a lot of criminal experience in the field. They can work the shit out of a crash scene, but many of them lack practical experience in criminal investigations.” I frowned. “If they throw together a little bit of probable cause and take it to a judge, there’s a good chance the judge will sign a warrant.”
“Wait a minute—are you saying they’ll just arrest you for murder without hearing your side of the story?”
“I’ve seen it happen before.” I sighed. “I don’t know what’s going on, but when Buck Turner has his detective lieutenant call me anonymously to tell me to get a lawyer, I’ve got to think worst case scenario.”
For a brief moment, Susan seemed deflated at the thought of me going to jail, but then the fighting spirit returned. “We’ve got money in savings,” she said defiantly. “I’ll drain that account and get the best damn criminal defense lawyer in the country. And when we’re done beating this shit in court, I’m gonna hunt down every last one of those—”
I stepped forward quickly and wrapped her in my arms. She looked up at me.
“Too far?” she asked.
“We don’t even know what’s going on,” I reminded her. “It could be nothing.”
“You’re right. I’m getting carried away.” She sighed. “I just remember when I got arrested and how scary it felt. Sure, I acted brave, but the idea of losing my freedom for simply doing my job was a terrifying prospect.”
I cocked my head to the side. From last night when we’d first gotten the call to this very moment, Susan had never once indicated she suspected me of any wrongdoing. I realized at that very moment that she had complete and total faith in my innocence.
CHAPTER 25
Noon…
Chateau Parish District Attorney’s Office
Detective David Monier looked out over the faces of the prosecutors and DA investigators seated at the large wooden conference table. He was trying to gauge their reactions to his detailed summation of Kim Plant’s statement, complete with a PowerPoint presentation and excerpts from the audio recording. However, they were mostly stone-faced. They had been here many times before, he knew, and they were no strangers to having law enforcement officers present cases for review.
Bill Hedd, who was positioned at the head of the table, glanced to his right, where Isabel Compton was seated. David had seen Hedd’s press conference over the weekend and he knew Compton would ultimately be the one responsible for prosecuting the case against Clint once Hedd was gone. He realized instantly that he had to convince her, more than anyone else in the room, that he had sufficient evidence for a conviction. Sure, he possessed probable cause to make an arrest, but no prosecutor would sign off on a warrant unless there was sufficient evidence to meet the more stringent test of beyond a reasonable doubt.
“According to your timeline,” Compton said, “the attack happened at around four o’clock, isn’t that right?”
David nodded.
“Then why did you wait ten hours to take the victim’s statement?”
“That’s a great question.” David moved closer to the foot of the table. “After giving up the combination to the safe, the victim was bound and gagged. She lay helpless on the floor and might’ve eventually died in that very spot had not a deputy come by her house to check on her. When she didn’t respond to his knock, he contacted Detective Lieutenant Mallory Tuttle and she told him to gain entry by whatever means necessary. So, he kicked down the door and found the victim tied up in the bedroom.”
“What made the deputy decide to go check on Mrs. Plant in the first place?” Bill Hedd wanted to know.
“Curiously enough, Clint Wolf contacted Lieutenant Tuttle and asked that she have a deputy conduct a welfare concern.” David leaned his fists on the table. “To me, that indicates remorse, and I think it’s something I can work with when I interview him. I believe he left her there to die, but then he got cold feet.”
“I don’t know,” Compton said with a shake of her head. “That doesn’t sound like the Clint Wolf I know.”
“I understand, ma’am, but the evidence speaks for itself.”
“Evidence?” Compton waved a hand. “If your characterization of Mrs. Plant’s statement is accurate—and I’ve only heard the excerpts you’ve played, so I don’t know for sure—then she seems rather sure of herself. However, I would be very hesitant to go forward without some type of physical evidence. This woman was brutally beaten in the face and head and also grabbed around the throat. What if she suffered a concussion and was confused? Furthermore, her assailant wore a mask, so she’s only relying on the sound of his voice. What if the person who attacked her sounded like Clint but was actually someone else? Objectively speaking, I simply don’t know how we could call this identification credible. There are too many unanswered questions and too many other possibilities that might rise to the level of reasonable doubt.”
“Look, we need to put aside the fact that the suspect is a decorated detective,” David said. “If this were just a regular guy—maybe someone with a criminal record—would we be sitting here having this conversation at all?”
Compton’s eyes flashed, and David realized he might’ve spoken too hastily.
“Well, that would depend on you, wouldn’t it, Detective?” she said. “I mean, considering you were the one who called this meeting. Would we be here if this were a regular guy with a criminal record?”
David took a breath and reminded himself to keep his cool. “I do have physical evidence—”
“Please answer my question.” Compton’s voice was curt and demanding, and David realized she was no pushover. She seemed determined to have an answer, and if he didn’t cooperate, his whole case might come crashing down before it even got off the ground.
“No, ma’am,” David said patiently. “I would’ve probably just sworn out a warrant for his arrest and sent the file up to your office when I was done. I’m that sure of my evidence. I just thought it would be prudent for all of us to meet, considering the target of the investigation.”
“Well, I t
hink it was a good idea that you called this meeting,” Hedd interrupted. The chair creaked beneath him as he shifted his large frame. “Like Isabel said, we would need some physical evidence before we proceed, but it sounds like you might already have some?”
The statement came out more as a question, and David quickly nodded his head.
“Yes, sir.” He turned back toward his computer and the image that was projected on the large screen in front of the group. He pressed the top button on the clicker in his hand, advancing to the next slide. It was a video file. “This is surveillance footage from the front door of the Plant residence.”
David activated the video file and stood aside as it began to play. It showed Clint and Susan Wolf arriving at the house. “As you can see,” David commentated, “they approach the door, Clint looks up at the camera and nods, and then he rings the doorbell with his left hand. This is at two-thirty-two in the afternoon.”
He froze the frame and zoomed in on Clint’s left wrist. “As you can see, he’s wearing a silicone wristband with the thin blue line pattern on it.”
David fast-forwarded the video, stopping when Susan and Clint exited the house. “They leave at three minutes after three o’clock.”
He glanced back at the group sitting around the table, but no one said anything. They were studying the screen intently.
Next, David pulled up a video taken from the same surveillance camera, but fifty minutes later. He studied the faces of everyone in the room as the video played, roaming from one to the other. Their eyes opened wider as they watched. He didn’t have to watch. He’d already seen the video a dozen times. From out of nowhere, a hand appears in front of the camera lens and then a bag is draped over the camera. The arm attached to the hand was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, but when the hand reached forward, the sleeve retracted a little to reveal a silicone wristband with the thin blue line markings on it.
