by BJ Bourg
If she knew him at all, she knew he would never tell them if things were going bad in the jail, so it was imperative that she get it done as soon as possible. While Clint looked and acted like an everyday guy, he had a relaxed air about him that told you he wasn’t scared of shit, and that could cause problems amongst some of the meaner prisoners. They might view his lack of fear as a lack of respect, and they might challenge him. She knew he would never back down, so fists were sure to fly, and in jail, he would be severely outnumbered.
Amy cursed when she reached the last house before coming to the next bridge that crossed the bayou. The thought was that she might be able to get a video of the white vehicle driving along the highway either right before or right after the attack, but she couldn’t find a single home outfitted with a security system.
“What’s wrong with these people?” she asked aloud, turning her car to head back south. “I need some surveillance footage!”
She wasn’t sure what she could do next and she hadn’t heard from Monier, so she called Isabel Compton and told her what she’d found.
“Let’s say we get DNA from the mask,” Isabel said, “can we somehow link it to the attack on Kim Plant?”
Amy was thoughtful, but finally frowned. “Other than proximity to the scene, we’ve got nothing. I did find a faint trail that seems to lead to the back of Kim’s property, but I can’t be sure it isn’t a game trail. We can make the argument that it was the suspect in the white car, but I don’t know how we prove it beyond a guess.”
“Yeah, and you can bet Bill would press us on that issue,” Isabel said. “I’m sure Bill would also try to say Clint is the one who threw the mask there as he was driving away from the scene. I’ll talk to him about it, but I don’t think he’ll reverse his decision based on what you’ve found so far.”
“I’m bringing the mask to the crime lab first thing in the morning,” Amy said. “If they recover any DNA from it, we should know within a day or two that it doesn’t match Clint’s, but that’s way too long for him to sit in jail. You’ve got to get Bill to do something.”
Isabel was silent for a long moment. “Amy, I’d bet my house that Clint had nothing to do with this, but what if we’re wrong? What if his DNA is on the mask?”
Amy shook her head. “No way in hell.”
“Hear me out,” Isabel said. “It seems that someone is trying to set Clint up for a crime he didn’t commit. David might be in on it or he might not be. It could be that the real criminal is leaving enough circumstantial evidence to lead David in a certain direction. If the suspect knew about the iPad, then he must know about everything else. Do we agree on that?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Let’s imagine he also found out that there’s a second car,” Isabel continued. “If he’s the killer, then he knows they spotted his vehicle, and he’s got to believe someone might go searching for evidence at that spot. David didn’t tell us about the second vehicle, but he might’ve told someone else and it might’ve gotten out to the suspect. What’s to keep this suspect from going back to the area and planting a mask with Clint’s DNA on it?”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Amy mumbled, suddenly glad she had called Isabel. Two heads were always better than one, and in this case, the more like-minded individuals she could consult with, the better.
“Furthermore, if you find the mask, the prosecutor in the case will have to call you up to present the evidence, and that will present a very persuasive argument for the prosecutor.” Isabel grunted. “Clint’s own detective testifying against him? You’ll all but seal his fate.”
Amy glanced at the clear evidence bag. She didn’t dare verbalize what she was thinking—that she wanted to burn the mask—but she also wasn’t convinced it had been planted. She said as much and Isabel agreed.
“Until we know who we’re dealing with,” Isabel said, “we won’t know what’s real and what’s not. Now that you’ve recovered the mask, you have to submit it and we’ll have to deal with the consequences, but I sure hope it wasn’t planted.”
Amy now stared at the mask like it was a bomb that might go off at any moment. She was still thinking of what to do when Isabel spoke again.
“Look, you have to do everything by the book with this case,” the prosecutor warned. “Your every action will be scrutinized later, considering how close you are to Clint, so everything has to be above board. With regard to the mask, why don’t you find out from Susan if Clint’s missing a mask? If he is, then we know we’re in trouble. If he’s not, then it should be safe to submit.”
Amy cursed herself for not thinking of that. She was about to end the call when her mind drifted back to something Isabel had said earlier.
“You mentioned something about the prosecutor who tries Clint’s case,” Amy said. “Wouldn’t that be you?”
“Hell, no!” Isabel spoke the words with passion. “I’ll never prosecute Clint Wolf. I plan on dismissing the charges as soon as I officially become DA. However, if the evidence continues to mount against him, it’ll be hard for me to do that. While I might never prosecute him, I might have to refer it to another agency or the AG’s office—and I do not want to have to do that. So, please, get me something I can hang my hat on. If the mask doesn’t belong to Clint, then it’s safe to say you’ll find someone else’s DNA on it, and that’ll help support my decision to dismiss the case.”
Amy nodded and ended the call. Without putting down her cell phone, she called Susan. The call went straight to voicemail. Amy left a message. Susan might need to see the mask to determine if it belonged to Clint, so she headed toward town in anticipation of Susan’s return call.
Amy didn’t have to wait long. Almost immediately, Susan returned her call and apologized for not picking up. Amy told her it was okay, and then explained what she’d found.
“As long as I’ve known Clint, he’s never owned a balaclava,” Susan said with certainty. “I think you’re on to something with the white car.”
Amy told her she’d bring the evidence to the lab first thing in the morning. Susan said it was a good idea and provided Amy with an address.
“Meet me here before turning in for the night,” Susan said.
“I wasn’t turning in,” Amy said aimlessly. “I won’t be able to sleep with Clint in jail. If I do, I’ll just be dreaming up ways to break him out.”
“I’m doing that in my daydreams,” Susan admitted. “I want you to explain your findings to someone. He might have some questions for you. He’ll know how to use the information to help Clint.”
Amy told Susan she would be there within twenty minutes and ended the call. She said a silent prayer as she drove that Clint would make it safely through the night. While the parish jail wasn’t a horribly dangerous place for common criminals, it was definitely no place for a cop.
CHAPTER 40
Wednesday, September 29
Empyrean Parish Detention Center
I’d slept a little throughout the night, but not much. As soon as I’d start to doze off, someone would snore or a bed would creak or a foot would brush against the floor and I’d be wide awake again. I wasn’t planning on becoming a pin cushion or a piñata, so I wouldn’t allow myself to fall into a deep slumber.
I wasn’t sure how early it was, but I knew it was breakfast time because the tantalizing odor of fried bacon greeted my nostrils. I tossed the blanket aside, sat up, and reached for my shirt.
“Damn,” Lane said from the neighboring bunk. “Those are some nasty scars.”
I glanced down at my torso, reflected but briefly on the people who had given me the war wounds, and then tugged my shirt on without saying a word.
“Wolf!” shouted someone from across the dorm. “Clint Wolf!”
I heard a clatter from my right and looked over several rows of bunks to see Ethan Bruce sit straight up in his bed. He gave a knowing nod, as though his suspicions had finally been confirmed. I stared evenly at him as I stood to my feet.
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p; “Here,” I said to the guard who had called my name. I didn’t take my eyes off of Ethan. “I’m Clint Wolf.”
I heard a few gasps from various sections of the room, and I realized that Ethan must’ve spread his suspicion around the camp. I made my way to the same iron door that Shade had led me through yesterday and nodded to the guard standing there.
“Your lawyer’s here to meet with you,” he said. “Come with me. I’ll take you to the interview room.”
“My lawyer?” I asked. “I don’t have a lawyer.”
“You do now.” He glanced down at his logbook. “A Mr. Perry Goldsmith showed up and asked to see you. He said he’s been hired to represent you.”
I frowned deeply when I heard the name. Perry Goldsmith had been Mayor Pauline Cane’s lawyer long before she became mayor, and he had helped Susan out of a tight spot some years ago. I had felt indebted to him, but instead of repaying him in kind, I’d been forced to arrest his son. I was surprised that he’d agree to represent me and curious to know who had requested his services. I couldn’t afford his rate, so it must’ve been Mayor Cane who had hired him, but I still couldn’t believe he’d agree to this.
I followed the corrections officer down the same corridor from last night and he opened the door to the same interview room where David had tried to get me to confess to a crime I didn’t commit. Perry looked up when I entered.
“Clint.” He stood and extended a hand. “I’m so sorry to see you under these circumstances. Hopefully, I can help improve your situation in short order.”
Confused, I shook his hand and sat across from him. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m your attorney now.” He unsnapped the binders on a leather briefcase and pulled out a yellow legal-sized notepad. There were several pages of notes already filled in. “I’ll be representing you in this matter.”
“Did Mayor Cane pay you to do this?” I asked. “I don’t want her spending her money on me. I can handle this.”
“No, Pauline’s not paying me.” He smiled sadly as he regarded my prison uniform. “It doesn’t look like you’re doing a good job of handling it, son…you’re in jail.”
“If Pauline’s not paying you, then who…?”
“No one,” he said. “This is pro bono. Susan came to meet with me last night and she explained everything that was happening. I also met with Detective Amy Cooke. She uncovered some additional evidence that I think might be helpful—”
“But…but I arrested your son.” I shook my head. “Why would you help me after I did that?”
Perry sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. He studied me for a long moment. Finally, he said, “You did what you had to do. You did your job, and you did it well. I can’t fault you for that and I certainly can’t hold it against you.” He waved a hand in the air. “Teddy made some mistakes—some really bad ones—and he’s going to have to pay for those mistakes. Had you not arrested him, he would’ve surely ended up dead. He was heading down the wrong path. You saved his life. If you ask me, I owe you big.”
“I owed you big,” I mumbled. “You saved Susan.”
“Well, after this we’ll be even.” He cleared his throat and lifted his pen. “Let’s get started. Tell me your version of things beginning with when you received the report about the death investigation over at Ralph Plant’s office.”
Still befuddled, I explained everything that had happened. It took me about an hour to tell it all, but I left out nothing. When I was done, he asked a few questions to fill in some blanks.
“Did this Detective David Monier offer any details about his case?”
“He laid it all out for me,” I said with a smile. “I didn’t even have to work for it.”
Perry chuckled. “Let’s have it.”
I went over everything I knew about the case against me, and I also told him some of my theories.
“Did Detective Monier say anything about a second vehicle being parked along the highway near the Plant residence?”
I scowled. “No. Where’d you hear about that?”
“Detective Cooke interviewed the jogger who claims she saw your Tahoe parked near Kim Plant’s driveway,” Perry explained. “She also saw a white car concealed in a grassy field just north of where you were parked. And next to that white car, hidden in the grass, she found this.”
Perry removed a printed photo of a black balaclava with two eye holes cut into it. I took the photo and studied it.
“Have you ever possessed a mask like this one?”
I shook my head. “Never.”
“Good. Detective Cooke will be submitting this mask to the crime lab for DNA analysis.” Perry returned the photo to the leather briefcase and continued. “With luck, they’ll find a DNA sample on that mask that doesn’t belong to you.”
I touched the tan line on my wrist where my thin blue line wristband used to be. “Did Amy find anyone who wears a wristband like mine?”
“No, but she did make contact with Detective Lieutenant Mallory Tuttle to see if she knew of anyone who did,” Perry said. “Tuttle also said she told no one about the iPad in Ralph Plant’s safe.” He pointed to the scratches on my wrist. “Cooke took some scrapings from the metal drum that left those marks on your wrist. Once we get the results back from the lab on that and the mask, we’ll be able to explain away every piece of Monier’s case.”
“Do you think it’ll be enough to convince Bill Hedd to dismiss the charges?” I asked.
“I’m going to file an emergency motion for a preliminary hearing,” Perry said. “And when I get Detective Monier on the witness stand, I’m going to destroy him. The fact that the crime was committed before you even found out that the judge denied the warrant to search the Plant residence destroys the motive he’s attributed to you, but he’s made other errors that even an inexperienced investigator would recognize. I’ll use those examples to demonstrate either a gross negligence on his part or willful misconduct. I’ll pick him apart so thoroughly that the judge will begin to think he was the one who set you up.”
I liked the sound of that, and said so. After a moment, I remembered Ethan Bruce and his crew looking at a cell phone. Cell phones were considered contraband in detention centers and prisons, but—like other types of forbidden objects—they always had a way of slipping through the cracks. Trying to keep contraband out of a detention center was like trying to keep a fox out of the hen house—it was a constant and exhausting battle.
“Perry, has there been any news about Ralph’s murder?” I shot a thumb toward where I thought the dorm was located. “It seems Ralph was representing one of the inmates in here and he was trying to dig up some information on a cell phone.”
“Aren’t cell phones prohibited in here?”
“You know how that goes,” I said. “If someone was motivated enough, they could smuggle an F-150 through these doors.”
“Yeah.” His eyes suddenly widened a bit and his brow furrowed. “You know, the statement that David Monier gave to the media can cause you some problems in here. If those prisoners find the article, they’ll know you’re a cop.”
I waved a dismissive hand. “Some of them already know. I’ll take it as it comes. But what’s this about the news conference?”
“Well, it’s part of the reason we’re going to be filing a lawsuit against Monier individually and in his role as a state police detective.” Perry pulled a printed news article from his briefcase and slid it across the table. “As you can see, Monier named you as a suspect in the murder of Ralph Plant.”
My blood boiled. “He doesn’t get to name shit. It’s not his investigation, and it never will be.”
“Well, by the time I’m done with him, he’ll be lucky if he gets to pull night watchman at a roadside casino.” Perry sighed. “Look, I’ve already put in a call to Judge Lamb. He didn’t answer, but I left a message. He and I go way back. I’m sure he’ll return my call as soon as he can. He’s a reasonable man, Clint, and I think he’ll be open to an emergen
cy preliminary examination or, if nothing else, a bond hearing. With luck, we’ll have you out of here by this afternoon. If he can’t squeeze us in today, it may be tomorrow morning at the latest.”
I nodded and thanked him for agreeing to handle the case. “When this is all over, let me know what I owe you,” I said. “I don’t want you doing this for free.”
“Clint,” he said, smiling apologetically as he lifted his pen to continue taking notes, “you can’t afford me.”
CHAPTER 41
Chateau Parish Criminal Operations Center
Before Susan shut off the engine to her Tahoe, she was texting Mallory Tuttle to let Mallory know she was in the parking lot of the detective bureau. Within seconds, Mallory appeared at the side entrance to the bureau and waited for Susan to exit her vehicle.
“I’m so sorry about Clint,” Mallory said as Susan approached her. “We thought David would try and bring Clint in for questioning, but we never thought the bastard would swear out an arrest warrant. And Judge Lamb of all people! He denied my search warrant for Ralph’s safe with stronger probable cause, and he goes and signs that shit warrant?”
Susan nodded, but didn’t say anything as she walked with Mallory through the bureau and into her office. Only after the door to Mallory’s office was shut and the blinds drawn did Susan address her friend.
“Mallory, you’ve got a rat in your organization.” Susan spoke the words with a finality that seemed to offend the lieutenant slightly. “I need to find it, and I need to find it right now.”
“Are you sure it’s not in your agency?” Mallory asked. “I haven’t told a soul. I hope you’re not suggesting it’s me.”
