I Won't Remember You (Aidan & Vicky Book 6)

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I Won't Remember You (Aidan & Vicky Book 6) Page 18

by Mairsile Leabhair


  “All rise. Division Eighteen, Sixth Judicial Circuit Court of the state of Arkansas, is now in session. The Honorable Judge Cecilia Williamson, presiding.”

  “If I ever hear that again, it’ll be too soon,” Vicky whispered to Aidan.

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” Aidan replied, taking Vicky’s hand.

  The judge walked in quickly, her robe open and flowing behind her. She did not sit down as she picked up her gavel. “Ladies and gentlemen. An unforeseen incident has occurred. The case of the People versus Harold Cassidy has been closed. No verdict will be given.”

  The gallery erupted in confusion. Reporters shouted questions. Others gasped, complained, and mumbled among themselves. George stood there dumbfounded.

  Aidan jumped up and shouted, “What the hell?”

  Judge Williamson called for order, repeatedly banging her gavel until she got it. Once everyone quieted down, she continued. “The defendant is dead. He was shot through the head this morning as he was being transported from jail to the courtroom. He died instantly. Court is adjourned.” Williamson banged her gavel on the sound board and then left the room.

  “Judge!” Aidan shouted. She needed more details. Was this another one of Harold’s tricks? Why would someone want him dead other than those in the courtroom? Aidan turned around to look for familiar faces. She realized one of them was missing. The father of the girl who was raped by Harold. “Vicky, was your friend Wilkes in court this morning?”

  Vicky turned around to see if he was there. “I’m not sure. We got here early, before the media did, so I didn’t notice who came in after us. What’s wrong, Aidan? Why did you ask about him?”

  “It’s probably nothing,” Aidan said, pulling her cell phone out of her jeans pocket. “Jerry, hey, it’s Aidan. I need you over at the courthouse ASAP. Thanks, man.” She hit the end call and stuffed the phone back in her pocket. “Vicky, something doesn’t feel right. I think it’s a set up, and—” Aidan saw two police officers walk through the courtroom door.

  “Aidan Cassidy, you’re under arrest for the murder of Harold Cassidy.”

  Cameras flashed in her face as Aidan yelled, “You gotta be fucking kidding me!”

  “No. You’ve got the wrong person,” Vicky exclaimed.

  “Put your hands behind your back and turn around.”

  Aidan put her hands behind her back, but looked at Vicky. “Tell Jerry everything that happened. He was working on a hunch I had. I think they’re connected. Tell him, Vicky.”

  “I will, but I’m going with you!”

  “No, stay here. I need you to help Jerry,” Aidan said as the police officer roughly turned her around. “Will you do that for me, kid? Please?”

  “Yes. Yes, I’ll stay.” Vicky conceded. “But I’m calling our lawyer.”

  “Yeah, that would be good. Joyce, Leonard, Ruth, someone stay with Vicky,” Aidan commanded as she was practically dragged from the room. “I love you, Vicky!”

  “I love you, Aidan!” Vicky shouted, reaching her hand out as if to pull her back.

  “You have the right to remain silent,” the officer said. “If you give up that right, anything you say can and will be used against you…”

  The last thing Aidan saw as she was led down the hallway, was Leonard holding Vicky back.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Jerry! Oh, thank God,” Vicky ran up to Jerry as he walked in a little after nine. “They’ve arrested Aidan.”

  “What? That’s bullshit. What was she arrested for?”

  “For killing Harold,” Vicky stated.

  “Harold is dead? Oh, shit.” Jerry took Vicky’s elbow and led her away from the others. “Do you think she finally did it?”

  “No, I do not,” Vicky replied indignantly. “How can you even ask that?”

  “Because, she’s tried before, and even said yesterday that she wanted to kill him.”

  “She was upset. You know how she gets around him,” Vicky said.

  “Yes. I do know. That’s why I asked.”

  “Look, it doesn’t matter. We have to help her. She said to tell you what happened this morning. She had a feeling that something wasn’t right and that it was a set up. Then the police came and arrested her for Harold’s murder.”

  “Yeah, she called me this morning and said she saw a guy with a leprechaun tattoo the same as what Malachy from the airplane had. She wanted me to check on the syndicates movements to make sure they weren’t trying to break Malachy out of jail. It would be easier while he’s in a city jail than when he’s in a federal penitentiary.”

  “That’s what took her so long to go to the restroom,” Vicky thought out loud. “She said she got distracted.”

  Jerry’s phone rang and he looked at the caller ID. “I have to take this,” he said, accepting the call. “Special Agent Jerry Williams. She was arrested, yes sir. I’ll find out. Yes, sir, I’m working on a hunch that Aidan had about the syndicate. She saw someone with a leprechaun tattoo and thinks they are connected with our prisoner, Malachy Doyle. Yes, sir, I’ll meet you at the precinct.” Jerry exhaled as he ended the call. “The boss is not too happy right now.”

  “I heard,” Vicky quipped. “Look, if you’re going to see Aidan, I’m coming with you.”

  “What about your posse over there?” Jerry asked, looking at their friends.

  “That’s up to them. I just know I need to be with Aidan.”

  “Right then, let’s go.”

  Leonard, Joyce, Brigid, Richard, Vicky and Jerry went to the police station, while Alice, Ruth, Yvonne and Ellen went home to wait.

  “For the last fucking time, I didn’t kill the bastard,” Aidan snapped.

  Detective Kassie Anderson knew Aidan by reputation only. She had never met her until now, and although she thought highly of Aidan, she could not let it show. Damn, I hope she’s not guilty. “And for the last fucking time, you had motive; you publicly denounced him as your father, and you almost killed him once before.”

  Drew Webber walked into the interrogation room without waiting to be announce. “I’m Ms. Cassidy’s lawyer and I would like to speak with my client alone, please.”

  “Take as long as you need, Counselor. She’s not going anywhere,” Anderson stated.

  Aidan looked at him suspiciously as the detective left the room.

  “I’ve been your wife’s attorney for five years.”

  “Oh, yeah. She told me she would call you. Thanks for coming so fast,” Aidan said.

  “Yes, and speaking of fast, they certainly arrested you pretty quickly. Let me caution you not to answer any more questions until after all the evidence has been gathered.”

  “That’s damn good advice,” a voice from behind Aidan said.

  Aidan recognized her boss’s voice immediately and jumped up. “Sir, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I imagine that you’re a bit distracted, Cassidy. So, what the hell is going on?”

  “I’m being framed by a dead man,” Aidan answered sarcastically. “Uh, sorry. I’ve been arrested but haven’t been booked yet.”

  Detective Anderson walked back in and crossed her arms defiantly. “I was told by my commanding officer that you demanded to see me?” She was looking at Bradshah.

  “Yes. I’m Tom Bradshah, Director of Homeland Security, Arkansas Division. I want to know how long you intend to keep my agent. She’s working on an international syndicate ring that has ties to al Qaeda.”

  “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t give a rat’s ass. She is our prime suspect in an execution style murder, and until the evidence tells us otherwise, she will remain in custody, and in jail.”

  “And what evidence do you have, Detective Anderson?” Drew asked.

  “Right now, all we have is motive,” Kassie replied. “They’re still processing the crime scene.”

  “Sir, permission to put Jerry on point?” Aidan asked.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Tom said, pulling out his cellphone. “Jerry wh
ere are you?” Tom looked at Aidan and smiled. “Well, get in here then.”

  A moment later and there was a knock on the door. Tom opened it to let Jerry in.

  “It’s a damn party,” Kassie snapped. If it hadn’t had been for her boss telling her to corporate, she would have insisted everyone but Aidan leave. She didn’t like the way things were going. It was a messy interrogation.

  “Vicky?” Aidan asked as she shook Jerry’s hand.

  “No touching,” Kassie blurted out of habit.

  “She’s all right,” Jerry replied, ignoring Kassie. “She’s waiting for you down the hall.”

  Aidan exhaled. She felt better knowing that Vicky was in the building, surrounded by the police.

  “Detective Anderson, please fill Special Agent Jerry Williams in on what you know so far. Homeland will be conducting its own investigation as a matter of national security.”

  “And will Homeland share its findings, as you are asking me to do?” Kassie asked pointedly.

  “Only so far as it pertains to your case.” Tom replied.

  “Fair enough,” Kassie said, sitting down.

  Everyone else sat down as well, and Jerry reached in his jacket and pulled out a small pad and ink pen.

  “At approximately 0730, prisoner 012598 was handcuffed and shackled and escorted from his cell, and through the back exit door. The prison van that usually picked the prisoner up, had not arrived yet. The police officer escorting the prisoner, stepped to the side to light his cigarette. At approximately 0738, the prisoner was shot through the head with a high powered rifle.”

  “Make? Model?” Aidan asked.

  “It has been identified as a Heckler & Koch HK417, made in Germany, was found on the rooftop of the building where the suspected kill shot came from. Weren’t you in the Army at one time, Special Agent Cassidy?” Kassie knew she was. She had watched the televised presentation when Aidan was awarded the Army Medal of Honor and the Presidential Medal of Honor.

  “Yeah, but I was a photographer. I never trained with a sniper rifle.”

  “I did during the war,” Tom inserted.

  “The Gulf War, sir?” Jerry asked.

  “Damn, son. I’m not that old. It was the Iraqi war, the same as you two. I went in when the war started and did a couple of tours.”

  Jerry blushed and looked at Aidan, who was covering her laughter.

  Tom continued. “Detective, has it been dusted for prints or DNA?”

  “Yes, and neither were present. The only thing significant that we can’t explain yet, was a sticker on the butt of the rifle and a shell casing that we’re running ballistics on.”

  “What kind of sticker?” Aidan asked.

  “A leprechaun with large pointed teeth.”

  “That’s them!” Aidan said excitedly. “I need to question Malachy again. He’s been holding out on us.”

  “I agree,” Tom replied. “I knew that whole thing with him was too easy.”

  “Now hold on just a damn minute,” Kassie said, and stood up. “You’re not questioning anyone. The party’s over. Everyone get out except the suspect.”

  “And her lawyer,” Drew said, remaining seated next to Aidan.

  “All right, we’ll leave, for now,” Tom assured her. “But I want a look at that rifle and a report on the ballistics. Do I need to speak with the Chief of Police again to do that?”

  Kassie rolled her eyes. This guy is a pain in my ass. She walked over to the door and called out, “LT, please escort these men down to the lab and let them look at the sniper rifle brought in this morning.”

  The Lieutenant walked over. “This way, gentlemen.”

  Aidan turned around and grabbed Jerry’s arm. “Jerry, tell Vicky that I’m all right… okay?”

  “Don’t worry, Sarge. I’ll tell her.”

  Leonard, Joyce, Brigid and Richard sat in the waiting area watching Vicky pace.

  “Where is she? Why haven’t they let her go yet?” Vicky asked.

  Joyce shook her head. “It takes time, Vicky, you know that.”

  Vicky’s phone vibrated again. It was another call from an unknown number, and Vicky knew it had to be a reporter. Thanks to Joyce’s persuasive ways, they were able to elbow their way out of the court house without too much trouble. A few “no comments” and one “get the fuck out of my way” from Joyce, and they were out the door and on their way to the precinct.

  “Damn it. Leave me alone!” Vicky yelled at the cellphone in her hand.

  “Here, give me that damn thing,” Joyce insisted. “I’ll tell them where to stick it.”

  “Perhaps I should be in charge of the phone,” Richard volunteered.

  Vicky looked at him and smiled. “Yes, I think that’s probably a good idea, Richard. Thank you.”

  “We interrupt this program to bring you breaking news.”

  Everyone looked up at the LCD monitor mounted in the corner of the room.

  “In a bizarre turn of events, the confessed rapist, Harold Cassidy, was apparently shot and killed by his own daughter, Special Agent with Homeland Security, Aidan Cassidy. Harold Cassidy was shot just outside the city jail as he was about to step on the prison van. Sources say it was apparently a sniper on the roof of a nearby hotel. Join us at five and ten for more on this developing story. Douger Bradley for KBHV news.”

  “How can they say that without any proof?” Vicky asked angrily without expecting an answer.

  “It’s a hot story, of course they’d play it up,” Joyce retorted.

  Richard tilted his head. “What will this do to Aidan’s reputation?”

  “Aidan doesn’t care about stuff like that,” Vicky explained.

  “You don’t understand, Vicky, they will take her medals away if she’s found guilty,” Richard countered.

  Vicky shook her head. “Then there’s nothing to worry about because she’s innocent.”

  “Yes, but the repercussions are still viable,” Richard added. “Once it’s out there, rumors start, people believe it whether its true or not, because it was on television.”

  “No one gives a shit about stupid people,” Joyce quipped. “Aidan doesn’t strike me as caring what others think. Only what Vicky thinks.”

  Brigid watched the exchange between the three of them as if she were watching a soccer match.

  “And I think that we should concentrate on helping Aidan right now, not guessing what might be in the future,” Vicky stated strongly.

  “You’re right, of course,” Richard agreed. “Let’s keep our focus on what’s important.”

  Vicky nodded, and walked over to the Sergeant’s desk.

  Joyce turned and looked at Richard. “Damn, you’re good, Doc.”

  Richard nodded. “I just thought she should be prepared.” She needs to keep her focus.

  “Sergeant,” Vicky said, stepping up to the desk. “When can I see my wife?”

  The Sergeant sneered at her, his homophobia showing. “You can see her when they say you can see her. Take a seat, please.” He waved her off and picked up the phone.

  Bastard. Vicky huffed back to her friends.

  “Jerry, get me a picture of that leprechaun,” Tom ordered, staring closely at the sticker. “I want to show it to our guest.”

  “Roger that, sir,” Jerry answered, pulling out his cellphone.

  “I’m going to talk with the Medical Examiner. Once you get the pictures, join me there.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  The rifle was still on the brace where the fingerprint analyst had been dusting for prints.

  Jerry took several pictures, including the serial number, and then set the phone down and put on rubber gloves. “Okay to pick it up?”

  “Yeah, go ahead, I’m finished,” the analyst said. “The clip has been removed and the chamber has been cleared.”

  “Did you find any prints on it?”

  “No, clean as a whistle. But I can tell you that the shooter didn’t police his brass. I was on scene and found one shell cas
ing.”

  “One shot was all he needed, I guess.”

  “Well, here’s the funny part. The casing was a .338 Lapua Magnum, and this rifle uses 7.62×51mm NATO rounds. The bullet didn’t come from this rifle.”

  Jerry looked at him skeptically. “How can that be? Are you saying that there was a second shooter out there?”

  “We won’t know for sure until the ME does the autopsy, but what else could it be?”

  Jerry immediately called Tom and advised him of the situation, then he picked up the rifle. Maybe this one was left behind as a decoy, to throw us off. The rifle, retailed at five-hundred-dollars on the internet, was black with a folding bipod and an adjustable buttplate. He looked through the scope, felt the balance, and put his finger on the trigger. “Why would they just leave the rifle behind?”

  Then he looked at the sticker. It didn’t appear to be anything special. A sticker that could be bought at most retail stores. This one had no peeling or cracking, so Jerry speculated that it was brand new. He sat the rifle back down and then examined the stock of the weapon. He had read a report where drugs were hidden in the hollow of the stock. Jerry detached the sling swivel socket, and with the help of the flashlight app on his cellphone, looked inside. Nothing. Jerry was disappointed. He didn’t know what he was hoping to find, but nothing wasn’t it.

  “Can you identify the victim in this picture?” Kassie asked, laying an 8x5 photograph on the table.

  Aidan picked the picture up. It was a picture of what was left of Harold’s head.

  “Yeah, that’s Harold all right,” Aidan replied, unfazed by what was clearly an intimidation tactic. “Thanks for showing me the proof. Up until now, I thought it was just another one of his tricks.”

  “Hardly. You made sure of that.”

  “Bullshit,” Aidan snapped.

  Drew shook his head. “Detective, I’ve watched the news, heard some of the testimony. There could be any number of people who wanted Harold Cassidy dead. Hell, I wanted him dead and I’ve never met the man.”

 

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