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Revenge of Innocents

Page 27

by Nancy Taylor Rosenberg


  Carolyn let him feed her. The chicken tasted like rubber soaked in mushroom soup. He gave her some orange juice to wash it down. “This is disgusting. They can’t hold me here against my will.”

  Marcus dropped the fork, his brows furrowing. “Why do you want to cause a scene over such a minor thing? Don’t we have enough problems to deal with right now? Jesus, I have a deadline to meet at work. If I don’t start paying attention to my business, I could lose everything.” He paced beside the bed. “I seriously underbid the competition, or I wouldn’t have these contracts. That means I’m operating on a tight budget. We can’t predict how long it will take to write or repair a complex program. My people need me, you need me, Rebecca needs me, other people’s children need me.”

  Carolyn picked up the fork and shoveled the remaining pieces of the chicken into her mouth, then pushed the table away. Her problems were overpowering him. She felt sorry for him, but making money was business, and even if his company collapsed, Marcus had enough wealth to last a lifetime. She dealt with life-and-death situations. Preventing another murder took precedence over anything else, even her health, her fiancé, and her daughter. “Call the nurse to get this needle out of my arm, or I’ll do it myself. I need to be there when they interrogate Don Snodgrass. I’m sorry I got you involved with my problems, Marcus. If you want Rebecca and me to move out, all you have to do is tell me.”

  “Why would I want you to move out?” he said, frustrated. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “Wasn’t your preoccupation with your business what ended your first marriage?”

  He jerked his head back as if she had struck him. “I shouldn’t have said anything, okay? I just didn’t see a reason to make such a big deal about eating a…” His eyes expanded. Carolyn was reaching for the IV needle.

  “I’ll get the nurse,” Marcus said, hurrying out of the room.

  At just over five-six, Don Snodgrass was a small man, with a pudgy face and small brown eyes. His hair was thinning on top and he wore a baseball cap to cover the bald spot. Dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt with a beagle dog on the front, he sat anxiously in the observation room at the police department. Hank and Mary watched him through the one-way glass.

  “The guy’s pathetic,” Mary said. “It’s hard to imagine him killing a mouse, let alone his own daughter. Maybe we made a mistake on this one, Hank.”

  “What kind of man would be caught dead in a puppy dog shirt?” he argued. “He’s a classic pedophile. They dress and act like kids so they can lure their prey.”

  “I don’t know,” Mary said. “He may be a pedophile, but I’m not certain he’s a murderer. Let me go in first. Where’s Carolyn? She was supposed to be here. Since Rebecca is a friend of his surviving daughter, she might get him to talk without an attorney. The wife obviously trusts her. She called Marcus and asked him to take Anne Marie so she wouldn’t be there when we executed the search warrant. Try to call Carolyn again. God, when is that woman going to start answering her cell phone?”

  Mary composed herself, then entered the room and sat down at the table across from Don Snodgrass. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for your loss, Don,” she said, trying to mimic Carolyn’s nonconfrontational technique. Before she had became a supervisor, the probation officer had gone so far as dressing in suggestive clothing and flirting with offenders to get them to drop their guard. Even within police circles, Carolyn was renowned as an interrogator.

  “Call me Mr. Snodgrass,” he said, removing his baseball cap and slapping it down on the table. “If you’re sorry for my loss, why are you harassing me and my family? My wife is on the verge of a breakdown. Do you have any idea what it’s like to lose a child, Detective? Instead of wasting your time with me, why don’t you catch the maniac who murdered Haley?”

  “We’re doing everything we can,” Mary told him. “We just want to ask you a few questions.”

  “My attorney is on her way down here. If you want to talk to someone, you can talk to her. I have nothing to say to you.”

  Once a suspect refused to waive his rights, they couldn’t question him about the crime. Since she had no desire to make small talk, Mary got up and left.

  Hank poked his head in the door a short time later. “Mr. Snodgrass,” he said, “a woman named Carolyn Sullivan is asking to see you. She claims to know your daughter, Anne Marie. She also said to tell you that Jude Campbell has been staying with her.” He acted as if he’d forgotten something. “Oh, your attorney, Beth Levy, called and said she got tied up in court. What do you want me to do about Ms. Sullivan?”

  Snodgrass’s beady eyes roamed around the room. He’d already been sitting there for over an hour, and perspiration was popping out on his forehead. “I’ll see her,” he said, evidentially mistaking Carolyn for an ally.

  Marcus had brought a change of clothes to the hospital, but Carolyn’s makeup had long disappeared. She walked straight up to Snodgrass and clasped his hand, one palm over another. “I’m Carolyn Sullivan,” she said. “You know that, though. Forgive me, I should have introduced myself a long time ago. I met your wife once at a school function. Anne Marie is a lovely girl. How is Angela holding up?”

  “Not good,” Snodgrass said, his face muscles relaxing. “This foolishness with the police isn’t helping. What are they trying to accomplish? Drew and Veronica were close friends of ours. I heard on the news that he was killed. And Jude…she was like a second daughter to me. It’s all so awful.”

  “I know,” Carolyn said, taking a seat beside him, then turning her chair so she was facing him. “I just left the hospital. I’m embarrassed to say I collapsed.” She didn’t have trouble mustering up a few tears. “I’m sorry,” she added, reaching into her pocket for a tissue. “Are you aware Jude’s arm was severed? If a nurse hadn’t witnessed the accident and stopped, she would have bled to death.”

  Snodgrass froze. He looked as if he’d been encased in glass.

  “The good news is she didn’t suffer a brain injury. We’re hoping she can identify the driver when she wakes up. At least the nurse got the vehicle description. The police think it may not have been an accident, that someone could have intentionally hit her.”

  When he spoke, he seemed preoccupied. “I thought she was killed. I guess I was so shocked when I heard about Drew, I blocked everything else out.”

  Interesting, Carolyn thought, putting on her most compassionate expression. The driver of the hit-and-run vehicle might have made the same assumption. “Maybe it struck too close to home. You know, because Jude and Haley were such good friends.”

  “The girls had a falling-out last year. Angie and I felt it was for the best. Haley was the more stable of the two. That is, until she developed an eating disorder. We thought it was just a phase she was going through. From what I…” He stopped speaking, staring at the one-way glass. “It’s really hard for me to talk about this. Out of curiosity, how did you know I was here? Anne Marie mentioned that you were a probation officer. That’s not the same as a police officer, is it?”

  “No,” Carolyn told him, sensing he was getting suspicious. She wanted to see what else she could get out of him, but she didn’t want to burn herself. If it came out she was working with the task force, his attorney could claim she’d violated his rights. “Angela called and spoke to my fiancé while I was at the hospital looking after Jude. She asked if Annie Marie could stay with us while the police searched your home.”

  “What are they looking for?”

  Carolyn stood to leave. She couldn’t lie to a direct question without stepping out of bounds. “I’m sure the police will release you, Donny. I hear you hired Beth Levy. She’s a former DA, so you’re in good hands. I doubt if you’ll need an attorney. How could anyone believe you had anything to do with these dreadful crimes? The police are just doing their job. You know, trying to eliminate every possibility.”

  Carolyn had intentionally called him “Donny” to see how he reacted. If he was a pedophile, using a
name he associated with his victims should trigger memories. He looked into her eyes, but he didn’t speak. There was something different about Snodgrass, something that hadn’t been there when she’d entered the room. Suddenly it came to her—resolve. He’d made some kind of decision, one he was determined to follow through on. Whether it was finding his daughter’s killer, destroying evidence, or leaving the country, she couldn’t say. Whatever it was, though, it was major.

  Carolyn returned to the observation room where Hank and Mary were waiting. “As soon as Beth Levy gets here,” she said, “the game’s over. She’ll demand that you charge Snodgrass or release him. Did they find anything incriminating at his house?”

  “Gary Conrad seized three computers,” Hank said, having just got off the phone. “One belonged to Haley, and the other to Anne Marie. We assume the father used the computer in the spare bedroom they’d converted into a home office. We can’t get into the damn thing. It’s got all kinds of passwords.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem for our guys,” Mary told him. “They live for this kind of stuff. I sent Ricky Walters out there. He can get into anything.”

  “I’ve already talked to Ricky,” Hank said. “Snodgrass’s computer has bios passwords, whatever that means, as well as Windows passwords. Ricky said if they don’t get lucky, they’ll have to reinstall Windows and they might lose some of the data. Even if we get into the damn thing, he says people who set bios passwords generally encrypt their files.”

  Carolyn asked, “Did you check out his cars?”

  “There was nothing to indicate they’d been involved in an accident.”

  “Any child pornography in the house?”

  “Shit, no,” Hank said, spitting a toothpick into the trash can. “I hate technology. No one keeps real pictures lying around these days. They scan it all into their computers. Remember that child porn ring the feds cracked last year? They never got into their computers. The assholes had it set up so the data was wiped automatically if you entered the wrong password more than three times.”

  “Maybe there’s something on the girls’ machines,” Mary suggested. “At least we might be able to find out what was going on in Haley’s life before she was killed.” Her face brightened. “I’ve got an idea. Marcus is a programmer. He’s got to be top shelf if he has contracts with the military. Right, Carolyn? If Ricky or one of the other guys can’t get into Snodgrass’s computers, do you think he’d be willing to help us?”

  “Why wait?” Carolyn said, pulling out her cell. “Now that Snodgrass knows we suspect him, he could skip out on us. I’ll call Marcus now. He was on his way to Snodgrass’s house to drop off Annie Marie.”

  “Wait,” Mary said. “The warrant gives us permission to remove the computers from the premises. You don’t want Marcus trying to get into the computers at the house. Snodgrass is a CPA. He probably has confidential information on his clients stored in that machine. We can’t give a civilian access. It could invalidate the warrant. Then if we find anything, we can’t use it.”

  “You’re right,” Carolyn said. “I wasn’t thinking. I’ll have Marcus come here instead.” She started to make the call, then stopped. “You’ll still be giving him access to Snodgrass’s computers.”

  Hank turned to Mary. “Are you in or out?”

  “How are you going to handle it?”

  “I’ll have Ricky take the computers to Marcus’s office instead of bringing them here. They can work on them together.”

  Mary was a by-the-books cop. They’d already been bending the rules, and she was afraid it could backfire on them. She was willing to place her career on the line to catch a killer, but she was concerned they might compromise the case and not be able to convict him. All Ventura needed right now was another Robert Abernathy. “Can we trust Ricky?”

  “Yeah,” Hank told her. “I caught him gambling on the Internet one time when he was supposed to be working. I didn’t report him, so he owes me.”

  “I’m in,” Mary said. “Call Marcus, Carolyn. We also need the address to his office. You take care of Snodgrass, Hank, and tell Ricky to meet me there with the computers. Stall as long as you can. If we find anything, I’ll call you.”

  Marcus took Anne Marie home, then dropped Rebecca at a friend’s house before he headed to Los Angeles. Carolyn wanted to stay at the PD and work.

  “Snodgrass hired a pit bull,” Hank told her, taking a seat at the long table in the conference room. “I wanted to hold him until we found out what was inside his computer, but Beth Levy pitched a fit. I had to cut him loose, or I think she would have plucked my eyes out.”

  “Beth’s a good attorney,” Carolyn said. “I wish she hadn’t left the DA’s office and gone into private practice.”

  “I assigned Gabriel Martinez to tail Snodgrass for now. Tomorrow, I’ll borrow some people from narcotics.”

  When none of the members of the task force were present, they had to collect everything they’d found at the various crime scenes and lock it up in the evidence room, then take it out the next morning. Carolyn looked through the boxes, seeing several new ones labeled DREW CAMPBELL, but she didn’t see any marked SNODGRASS. “Where’s the stuff from Snodgrass’s house?”

  Hank sighed. “All we got were the computers. The search warrant was restricted to anything that was related to child pornography. I don’t know what to think. The guy’s an oddball, but he may not be involved in anything illegal. He evidently didn’t know his daughter was buried alive. When I told him, he used up a whole box of Kleenex bawling.”

  “He probably is devastated,” Carolyn answered. “Pedophiles love their victims. They don’t think they’re doing anything wrong. Since Haley was his daughter, he would be even more emotionally involved. If he’s guilty, I doubt if he wanted to kill her. He was either terrified of going to prison or someone forced his hand.”

  “You mean Drew, right?”

  “Maybe,” she said, using her cell to call the hospital to check on Jude. When she disconnected, she told him, “They say she’s doing well. Barring any complications, she should be conscious sometime tomorrow. Let’s hope she can give us some answers. She’s been through a terrible ordeal, so I’m not sure we’re going to get much out of her right away.”

  “Will she be able to use her arm?”

  “The doctors aren’t sure what her limitations will be,” Carolyn explained. “The wound has to heal before they can start physical therapy. She could still lose it if something goes wrong.”

  Thinking Jude might lose her arm now that the doctors had reattached it made Carolyn feel like screaming. To occupy her mind, she rifled through the boxes marked JUDE CAMPBELL. There was a stack of school books, several spiral notebooks, as well as a large canvas backpack. It wasn’t the type school kids carried, more like something hikers used when they went on overnight treks. She glanced in another box and saw a blanket, gloves, and several heavy sweaters, assuming another officer had removed them when he went through the backpack. It was sad, she thought. Jude must have lived out of this bag during the times when she stayed away from home. She wondered why she hadn’t taken it the night Drew threw her out of the house. Instead, she’d put her things in a plastic garbage bag. The girl was probably shaken up over the confrontation they’d had in the bathroom, and merely wanted to get out of the house as soon as possible.

  “Gary Conrad went through those things already,” Hank told her. “You’re wasting your time. If you want, I can drive you home. Marcus may be tied up all night.”

  Carolyn ignored him. She turned the backpack on its side, brushing out what looked like pieces of gum wrappers and a sprinkling of white powder. She put some on her tongue to make certain it wasn’t cocaine or speed.

  “It’s aspirin,” Hank told her. “We had it tested.”

  “There’s something in here. These things have so many compartments.” Carolyn unzipped all the pockets and shoved her hands inside, feeling around with her fingers. Deciding what she felt was a piece of car
dboard that served as the bottom of the pack, she tossed it down on the table. A flap fell open, revealing another compartment. She unzipped it and pulled out a small book with a sunflower on the cover. It looked as if some of the pages had been ripped out. She jerked her head up. “My God, Hank, this is Jude’s diary. No one said anything about finding a diary.”

  “Gary’s an idiot,” Hank said, frowning. “What does it say?”

  “I’ll have to read it.” The book was about to fall apart. Carolyn carefully opened it and was instantly riveted. Jude’s handwriting was small and cramped. The pages weren’t dated, so there was no way to tell when they were written. She wrote about how much she loved Reggie, how she would die for him, and her fear that her father would find out she was dating a guy who was black. She mentioned that she was afraid for her sister, that she’d seen her father touching her, and vowed to do whatever it took to keep him away from her. Toward the end, all she wrote about was her weight. She went days without food, drinking only coffee and water. Then she allotted herself one orange per day, which she cut into three pieces. It was obvious that Jude was unraveling, as her handwriting became sloppier and the entries dwindled down to a few fragmented sentences. “Breasts almost gone. Felt dizzy today. Can’t pass out, or they’ll put me in a hospital and tube-feed me. Won’t be long now. He’s been giving me that look all week.”

  Carolyn stood and handed the book to Hank. “Everything Jude told us about Drew was true. She was trying to starve herself so her body would look like it did before she went through puberty. I wish we had the missing pages.”

  “Jude is skinny,” Hank said. “But the Snodgrass girl didn’t even weigh eighty pounds. Charley said she was anorexic. Don’t tell me they were both anorexic?”

  “A shrink might classify this as anorexia since Jude fits the profile,” Carolyn explained. “She was starving herself for a purpose, though, to keep Drew from going after Stacy.”

 

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