They circled the block once, and he thanked her for her time and let her go, pretending not to notice her relief.
Ben checked his watch. Time for a follow-up interview for another investigation, then he planned to corner Rod Carter at his lunch break.
* * *
SLUMPED IN THE chair across from her at the small table, Joel gazed beseechingly at Eve.
“Can they just keep me here, without there even being a trial?”
“It’s only been a week since your arrest.” She counted. “Eight days.”
“But I didn’t do anything.” He looked so miserable, her resolve wavered. If she could just hint...
I promised. She suppressed a sigh.
“I know you didn’t, Joel. Just hang on. Detective Kemper is still investigating.”
His dark eyes smoldered. “He’s the one who arrested me.”
“I know he is. That’s because he’s primary on the case. It also means he’s responsible for having enough evidence to convince a prosecutor that he can convict you at trial.”
“There’s nothing to find,” he muttered.
“If the baseball bat was planted, other evidence could be,” she felt obligated to remind him.
He stared at her, his shock apparent. “But...like what?”
“I don’t know. He’s asking a lot of questions, and not just about you. He knows finding the bat where it was isn’t definitive.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She talked around what she knew, not saying anything she hadn’t before, and that his attorney wouldn’t also have told him. The bat could have been planted. The fact that Joel’s fingerprints were on it meant nothing, unless one had been planted in the blood, and she knew for a fact that wasn’t the case.
“But what are they doing to find out who killed Mr. Rowe?”
“Mostly asking questions, I think,” Eve said. “I’ve talked to Detective Kemper frequently—” over breakfast this morning, for example “—and he says he still has avenues to pursue.” Although she didn’t quite know what. She also didn’t know why the girl’s statement that she’d seen Gavin put the bat in a locker that was likely Joel’s wasn’t sufficient to justify another search warrant, but Ben had seemed unsurprised if also frustrated.
As she talked, Joel let his head hang, his body language reflecting his feeling of impotence.
“Have you had visitors?” she asked.
His mouth twisted. “A few. Tony and Laura both came.”
“I assumed they would.”
“And Coach Keefe came. Plus Mr. Dennis. He’s the assistant coach.”
Eve nodded.
“I guess everyone at UO must know I was arrested, huh?”
“I have no idea.” God, she hoped not.
He shrugged.
When she left, Eve didn’t know if she’d done him any good. Except she had to believe it would be worse if she didn’t come.
She walked out to her car, wondering what Ben was doing right this minute.
And whether he’d want to stay the night if she suggested dinner again.
* * *
ROD CARTER WAS even less happy to see Ben than his wife had been. The first words out of his mouth were a flat, “You again.”
Ben had had to wait in the lobby of the public utility district building while Rod was summoned. Now he smiled. “Following up, and then following up again is my job, Mr. Carter. I appreciate your patience. I know you want to help, given your relationship with Joel.”
Ben was encouraged to see a shadow cross the other man’s face, one that naturally seemed to be open and good-humored rather than secretive.
The PUD building had a small café on the ground floor, and they both bought cups of coffee, but took them to a bench on the far side of the lobby from reception rather than sitting in the half-full café where they might have been overheard.
They sipped in silence for a minute, Ben mentally tossing the dice. That expression had looked a lot like guilt to him. Carter might feel it only because he hadn’t supported Joel, hadn’t even gone to visit him in juvie. But Ben had seen his discomfort before and wondered.
First he asked for permission to record the conversation. Then, his strategy decided, Ben said, “I’m going to be frank with you, Mr. Carter. I’m starting to have real doubt that Joel committed the crime.” He paused deliberately. “Any of the crimes.”
Joel’s foster dad flicked an alarmed look at him. He hadn’t missed the subtle emphasis on “any.”
A big, buff guy, Carter had a boyish quality about him. Ben doubted he was capable of subtlety and probably wasn’t any mental giant, but he seemed likable. The admirable impulse that had led him to take in a foster son said something important about him.
The fact that he’d then abandoned that boy had to be eating at him.
“But then—” He swallowed. “Who?”
“I have ideas about that, too,” Ben said, almost gently. “And I suspect you do, too.”
Rod turned his head sharply away and stared straight ahead for a long minute. Then he groaned, and his shoulders slumped. “How can I say anything to Lynne? Jesus.” He bent his head and pinched his nose. “She’d never believe it! I tried to convince myself—”
“You can’t let Joel be convicted for a crime he didn’t commit. He trusts you.”
The big shoulders shook on what was almost a sob.
“What do you know, Mr. Carter?”
“The fire,” he mumbled, head still hanging. “I heard the door from the garage close and stepped out of the bedroom. He didn’t see me. He was putting matches and that can of fire starter back on the mantel.”
“He.”
“Gavin.”
“I see.”
“It was a few minutes before any of us smelled smoke or knew there was a fire. How could I say anything?” He lifted his head to gaze imploringly at Ben. “Lynne and I have only been married a few months! He’s her kid. She thinks he’s damn near godlike. At first, I thought she was right. He’s smart, a hell of a wrestler, never sullen like teenagers can be.” Carter brooded for a minute. “When he and Joel didn’t hit off, I thought it was Joel.”
“But you don’t anymore.”
With back bowed and shoulders rounded, Rod Carter looked diminished. Ben suspected that, in his own eyes, he was. He’d lied to himself for the sake of household peace, or maybe so he wasn’t looking at his wife’s back when he got into bed at night. All understandable, if not admirable.
But now he shook his head. “He’s...sneaky.” His voice was low, defeated. “I don’t like him, or the way he treats his mother sometimes.”
“I interviewed former neighbors of your wife and her son. I heard some ugly stories. I suspect that, deep down inside, she knows what he’s capable of.”
Carter’s forehead creased. “She’s always so...perky around him. You know? Jumps right in on his side if he complains about anyone. Insists he’s always right. The best.”
“On some level, she might be afraid of him,” Ben suggested.
Carter looked appalled. “God.”
“I understand why you feel torn. This can’t be easy for you. Even so, I’m going to ask that you not retreat from what you’ve told me. For Joel’s sake, if for no other reason. I’m also going to ask you not to say anything at all to Lynne or Gavin until I’ve acted on this information.” He hardened his voice. “It is absolutely essential that neither have any warning. Do you understand?”
He squeezed his eyes closed and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “I understand.” He huffed out a breath. “I don’t know what this is going to do to Lynne.”
“It can’t help but be tough on her. She’ll need you.”
“Need me?” Carter’s incredulity
was plain. “More likely, she’ll blame me.”
“If her son battered an old man to death, he has to be stopped.”
Rod bent forward again, elbows braced on his thighs. Pain was apparent in every line of his beefy body. “I know. God.” His voice rose in something like anger. “Just do what you have to, all right?”
“I will.” Ben flicked off the recorder and rose to his feet, feeling pity as he looked down at a man reduced by the choice he’d made. “Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Carter,” he said quietly, and walked away.
* * *
AS BEN RETURNED to his vehicle, he checked his watch. He wanted to believe Rod Carter would keep his word—and his mouth shut. Ben wasn’t a 100 percent convinced, however. He doubted Rod would call his wife this afternoon. He’d probably be glad to get back to work, to be able to put off facing the consequences of his admissions to a police detective. Once he was home, though, faced with his new wife...all bets were off.
Which meant Ben needed a warrant in hand and to be ready to serve it by the time Rod and his wife got off work.
As he drove, he called Don Cavender, the assistant DA, who agreed to be available. Twenty minutes later, he was listening to the recording.
“That should do it,” he agreed. “Poor sucker. The wife’s not going to take it well.”
Cavender had a son and daughter, Ben knew. The girl was a freshman or sophomore in high school, he thought. Yeah, if anyone would understand what Lynne Carter faced, he would.
“Probably not.” Ben grimaced. “What parent would?”
“My prediction is, she won’t accept it,” Cavender said flatly.
That was Ben’s take, too. She’d fight tooth and nail for her perfect son. Her new marriage would soon be history. Rod had been right; she’d convince herself he’d lied because she couldn’t think the worst of her precious son.
The prosecutor promised to let him know the minute he had a warrant signed.
Back at the sheriff’s department headquarters, Ben was relieved to find Seth at his desk. He could have taken someone else with him to serve the warrant, but Seth had already been in on this, and Ben trusted him.
He explained, and Seth nodded.
“Thank God. And I don’t say that lightly.” He grunted. “Usually I don’t approve, but in this case, I hope the district attorney’s office decides to try him as an adult. I don’t like the idea of him ever getting out of prison.”
Picturing an older, tougher, embittered Gavin Shaffer walking out, a free man, was enough to send a chill up Ben’s spine. Season a sociopath with a good, long stretch in the pen, then let him loose on society. That was a recipe for horror.
He wanted to call Eve, but couldn’t let himself. They weren’t home free yet; Kylie’s testimony and Rod’s—if he stuck to his guns—should be enough to get Joel off the hook. But to convict Gavin? Not a chance. They needed tangible evidence. And Ben was all too well aware that Gavin had the brains to have ensured there wouldn’t be any to find.
What Ben was counting on was the boy’s arrogance. He’d set up Joel, and at every step his mother and stepfather bought in—or at least had appeared to. That would make the kid even cockier, sure no one would ever consider him. He might have enjoyed the process enough to already be plotting the downfall of someone else who’d annoyed him.
Ben couldn’t settle. He didn’t usually get antsy, but this case had become personal for him. Because of Eve, sure, but also because he didn’t like being played. First he wandered over to pour a cup of coffee he didn’t drink. Then he prowled until Barb Asher, the sole female detective, scowled at him. “Go pace somewhere else! You’re making me crazy.”
He dropped into his desk chair and managed to stay there for five minutes before he shot back to his feet. When Seth glanced at him, Ben said, “I’ll be—”
His phone rang.
“Got it,” Cavender said with satisfaction.
Seeing Ben’s fierce grin, Seth rose to his feet.
“We’re on our way,” Ben said.
* * *
THE TIMING WORKED FINE. Gavin must have done something with friends after school, because Ben saw him parking and going in the house as they turned onto his street. The garage door stood open and Lynne’s car was there, but apparently Rod hadn’t made it home yet.
Ben parked behind Gavin’s car, blocking it in, and he and Seth moved fast. Seth stood out of sight while Ben rang the doorbell.
Lynne came to the door. The moment she saw him, fear transformed her face.
“I need to speak to Gavin, Mrs. Carter,” Ben said. “Right now.”
“Gavin?” she called.
Her son appeared from the kitchen. He was cool enough not to react visibly, but he took a step back. “You want to talk to me? Let me put my stuff in the bedroom first.”
“No.” Ben crossed the threshold. “I need you to come here right now.”
“I don’t understand,” his mother said.
“This is bullshit!” Gavin announced. “If I want to go to my room, I’m going to my room.”
“I’m sure we can straighten everything out...” Lynne began.
“Mrs. Carter, I have a warrant to search Gavin’s bedroom, car, personal possessions like his pack, and his school locker. I need him to stay in sight while we conduct that search.”
Gavin broke away and took off toward his bedroom. Seth was right behind him. The kid screamed invectives as Seth bent his arm behind him and pushed him back into the living room. Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw Lynne, backed up to a wall, press her fingers to her lips.
“Mrs. Carter. I need to ask you to look over the warrant.”
“But...you arrested Joel. The two boys didn’t even like each other! Gavin never would have cooperated with Joel in doing mean things like that. Why would you need to look at Gavin’s room?”
Mean things? Like slamming a baseball bat into a man’s head? They all heard another vehicle pull into the driveway.
Lynne cried, “Rod!” and turned to him the minute he appeared, but then her mouth formed an O and she backed up when she saw his face. He’d aged today. Weariness, guilt and resolution combined.
“I’m sorry,” he said to his wife, and turned to Ben, who felt some admiration. The guy hadn’t crumpled, after all.
He perused the warrant briefly and handed it back with a nod that set Gavin off again.
“We’ll have to cuff Gavin and put him in the back of our car if he can’t sit quietly and allow us to work,” Ben said, raising his voice to be heard over the screamed obscenities.
Rod turned to him and snapped, “Sit!’
“I don’t have to,” the boy snarled.
Rod looked at Ben. “Do it.”
His wife began to scream at him. Seth pulled out plastic cuffs and had Gavin face against the wall. Then he walked him out, leaving Ben to make sure the mother didn’t rush to her boy’s bedroom to take care of whatever it was he didn’t want them to find.
Returning, Seth said, “I’ll take the car.”
Rod handed over his own keychain. “I have a spare for his car.”
Lynne stared at him in shock. “What are you doing? You said he’d be your son, and you’re letting them treat him this way?”
Anguish flickered in his eyes. “And I’d expect a son of mine to be a half decent human being and to cooperate with the law.”
Accompanied by Rod, Ben took Gavin’s book bag to his bedroom. Rod stayed in the bedroom doorway watching. Snapping on gloves, Ben first went through the bag, but found nothing out of the ordinary except a baggie of marijuana, which he held up for Rod to see. Marijuana was still illegal for minors in Washington state. Under normal circumstances, Ben might have pretended he hadn’t seen it. It wasn’t a priority for law enforcement anymore unless someone using was also d
riving and clearly impaired.
The room was neat, which made his job easier. He pulled back covers, looked under the pillow and mattress, and then under the bed itself. Dresser drawers held only clothes, which didn’t surprise him; chances were Lynne put away his clean clothes, neatly folded. Desk drawers held a more interesting jumble, including a roll of twine that was a match for the twine used to hang the cat from Clement Rowe’s eaves. As he lifted it out of the drawer, he heard a pained sound from Rod. Ben placed it in an evidence envelope, as he did the rolling papers to go with the marijuana. Schoolwork, textbooks. Condoms. Lots of scrawled notes—he’d leave those for now and come back to them.
Once he opened the closet doors, he proceeded methodically, starting with the shoes. Those he examined carefully. High-top Converse, cleats for baseball or soccer, dress shoes, sandals. Gavin had been wearing typical athletic shoes; all else failing, Ben intended to look at those, too. Crouching, he saw a duffel bag. It was limp enough to be mostly empty, but he could see something clunky in there. He set it on the bed and unzipped, to see an old, battered pair of athletic shoes similar to what Gavin had been wearing.
Ben’s pulse took a jump. The shoes were stained: by grass, and by streaks of something that had dried to a rust color. When he turned them over, he saw more of the crumbling rusty substance caught deep in the treads. Ben knew dried blood when he saw it. Gavin had wiped them off, then shoved them out of sight.
Gotcha, Ben thought, but didn’t say out of deference to the man watching silently from the door. When Ben glanced over, though, he saw that Rod had fixed a horrified stare at the shoes.
Ben bagged them and went back to searching.
He didn’t find any bloody clothes, which didn’t surprise him. Those could be gotten rid of in a Dumpster behind a business or a garbage can set out at the curb a mile away from home. He might be questioned about the shoes, however, if he tried to wear one of his good pairs to mow, say. He’d probably figured he could hose them off on a sunny day and just hadn’t done it yet.
In Hope's Shadow Page 24
