Read Herring Hunt
Page 3
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jenna said in the cold, steely voice I dreaded. “You have ten seconds to get my sister and grandmother off that floor or as God is my witness, I will sue every last one of you.” Jenna was a criminal defense attorney well-known by the police for her tough, no-nonsense attitude. I’d once heard that the district attorney’s office referred to her as a pit bull and I had to say, as her sister, I thought it was pretty accurate.
“You know these women?” One of the officers stepped up from the pack.
“I just said that, didn’t I? And you have two seconds to lower your weapons,” Jenna said between clenched teeth. Then she turned her back to the officers and looked directly into the camera that was positioned over the door. “As you can see, these imbeciles have my sister and elderly grandmother handcuffed and laying on the cold concrete. Obviously they aren’t a threat, yet these officers continue to point their weapons.”
The officers put away their guns. One of the officers helped me to a standing position. It took two of them to help Nana Jo to stand.
“Your ‘elderly’ grandmother set off the metal detector.” He turned Nana Jo’s purse upside down and all the contents flew across the floor. His cocky smile turned into a sneer as he looked at Nana Jo’s iPad, phone, notebook, brush, holster, makeup, and about twenty other items lying on the ground. He kicked the empty holster and looked around the floor. But there was no weapon.
“Hey, Barney Fife, you break my iPad and you’re buying me another one,” Nana Jo said.
Jenna smiled and continued to address the camera. “No weapon, just an empty holster. And if she had brought her weapon, you’d find her permit to carry in her wallet.”
The smirk vanished as the officer looked at the wallet and found the permit. He returned the wallet and other belongings to Nana Jo’s purse and nodded to the officers holding us and the handcuffs were removed.
“I guess it was the iPad that set off the detector. Anyway, she should have announced she had a weapon and shown her carry permit immediately,” he said as though he were educating a child—bad mistake.
“I’ll keep that in mind the next time when I actually have a weapon. Of course, you would have known that if you nincompoops would have waited a minute before Wyatt Earp and the rest of the posse drew their guns like they were about to shoot it out at the O.K. Corral.” Nana Jo snatched her purse away from the officer.
“I intend to subpoena the videotapes, so make sure nothing happens to them. If my sister or grandmother is injured due to this incident, you will be hearing from me.”
The officer looked as though he wanted to say something, but the look in Jenna’s eyes showed him silence would be his best defense.
“Now, where have you taken Dawson Alexander?” Jenna’s question brought me back to the reason for our visit.
We were escorted to a reception area. We signed in and were then led to a small conference room. Jenna was allowed to go with the police officer, but Nana Jo and I were left to wait. I wanted to protest, but the look in Jenna’s eyes convinced me silence was my best defense as well.
Still flustered from the experience of being handcuffed and having guns pointed at me, I was glad for an opportunity to sit down. I hadn’t realized how nervous I was until I poured myself a cup of water from the pitcher on the table and my hands shook so badly I spilled most of it on the table.
“Are you okay?” Nana Jo grabbed some napkins from her purse and helped me clean up the water.
“No,” I answered truthfully. “But I will be. That was scary.”
Nana Jo smiled. “That was pretty nerve-racking. I’m sorry, honey.”
“I’m glad you thought to leave your gun at home.”
She smiled. “I didn’t.”
“What?”
She shook her head. “Honestly, I was as surprised as that policeman. I must have left it at home, but it was an oversight. I was so upset about Dawson I didn’t even think about my peacemaker.”
“Lucky for us.” I smiled and leaned across the table. “I’m pleasantly surprised to know you have a permit to carry.”
Nana Jo grinned. “Well, we can thank Jenna for that too. To be honest, I’ve been carrying a gun for more years than you’ve been alive. But after everything that happened in the summer, Jenna convinced me I needed a permit.”
We waited for what felt like an eternity but was only twenty minutes. Jenna returned with Detective Bradley Pitt. Detective Pitt had been the lead investigator in the murder of Clayton Parker, a realtor who was found in the backyard of my building over the summer. He was an unpleasant man with a knack of jumping to the wrong conclusion, like when he thought I murdered Parker. Detective Pitt was short with a bad comb-over and polyester pants that were too short and a bright, flowered polyester shirt that was too tight. His certainty that I was a murderer forced me, Nana Jo, and her friends from the retirement village to become sleuths to figure out who murdered Parker.
“Stinky Pitt, I should have known you’d be behind this debacle. Once again you’ve got everything bass-ackward, upside down sideways.” Nana Jo taught Detective Pitt in elementary school and loved to embarrass him by using his childhood nickname.
Detective Pitt’s jaw clenched and his ears got red. “I wish you would remember that no one calls me that anymore.” He glared at Nana Jo, who contrived to look innocent.
She loved to goad him and knew exactly what she was doing. But she was careful never to call him Stinky Pitt around other police officers.
“Look. Dawson Alexander is absolutely not a killer,” I said. “You’ve arrested the wrong person.”
“We haven’t arrested anyone yet. We just brought him in for questioning.” Detective Pitt walked around the small conference table. “But, that’s not to say we won’t be pressing charges. We’ve barely had time to talk to him.”
“And from now on, you won’t be talking to him without legal counsel present,” Jenna said. “Now, I want to talk to my client.”
Detective Pitt looked as though he wanted to comment but, to his credit, he kept silent. He merely shook his head and mumbled something about lawyers meddling or muddling, I couldn’t really tell, under his breath as he left.
“Wow. You’re tough,” I said with more than a little awe.
Jenna laughed. “They don’t call me pit bull for nothing. I earned that title.”
We waited for several minutes and then the door opened and Detective Pitt returned with Dawson.
Detective Pitt looked as though he intended to stay and listen, but Jenna wasn’t having it.
“Thank you, Detective. I’ll let you know when we’re done.”
His only response was to turn and leave, but the door did seem to close with a bit more force than I remembered him using previously.
Dawson looked as though he’d aged ten years since this morning. Could it only have been a few hours? His eyes looked tired and the scars that seemed faded this morning looked more prominent now; although I might have been more attuned to them, given our current situation.
“Dawson, I’ve told Detective Pitt I’m your legal counsel. However, you don’t have to accept me. If there’s someone else that you—”
“No. I really want you to represent me. I was just too embarrassed to ask.” He hung his head and looked up sheepishly. “I don’t know how I’m going to pay you.”
“Pshaw. Don’t worry about that. I don’t charge family.”
Dawson looked surprised and misty-eyed.
I was a bit misty myself. Dawson was like family. Leon and I were never blessed with children, but Dawson had come into my life during a time when I was in need of someone to focus my attention onto. He’d allowed me to mother him and had slid into one of the holes that Leon’s death had opened up.
“Now, I need to know, what have you told them?” Jenna looked at me and Nana Jo. “Normally, I wouldn’t do this in front of you. Conversations between a client and an attorney are privileged.”
“That mean
s you can’t tell anyone what he says to you, right?” I asked.
“Pretty much. It’s complicated, but that’s the general idea. Legal counsel is charged with giving the best advice possible. However, if someone comes to a lawyer for advice, they need to feel free to communicate everything without fear anything he says will be used against him. If he holds back, because he’s afraid, I can’t give the best advice.” She looked at Dawson. “Do you understand?”
He nodded.
“Now, understand, only the conversation between an attorney and a client is privileged. If Sam and Nana Jo stay, they could be compelled to reveal it. That’s why I would recommend they leave.”
Nana Jo and I both started talking at the same time, but Dawson overrode us. “It’s okay. I didn’t kill her. I don’t have anything to hide. They can stay.”
“I don’t care what the law says. I’d never tell them anything,” Nana Jo said.
“Neither would I.”
Jenna merely shook her head. “Am I the only law-abiding citizen in this family?” She smiled. “My family would apparently lie under oath.” She shook her head.
“For someone I care about, I’d lie like a rug,” I said.
“Darned straight,” Nana Jo agreed. “That’s why we keep you and your husband, Tony, around. Two lawyers in the family come in pretty handy.”
Jenna shook her head, then turned her attention to Dawson. “I need you to tell me everything you’ve said to the police.”
“I didn’t really say anything. They kept me waiting in a room for almost an hour. Then Detective Pitt showed up. He started asking me a lot of questions, but I’d had a lot of time to think when I was waiting.” He paused and then shook his head. “My dad didn’t teach me much, but he always said, ‘Never say nothing to no cops, boy, not without a lawyer. They’ve gotta give you a lawyer in this country. Ain’t America great?’ That’s what he would say.” He looked around at us. “So, I didn’t say anything. I just said I wanted a lawyer.”
Jenna breathed a sigh of relief.
“Attaboy,” Nana Jo said.
Dawson smiled. “I didn’t think they’d do it. Detective Pitt kept saying I didn’t need an attorney because I wasn’t under arrest. When that didn’t work, he said innocent people didn’t need attorneys. If I wasn’t guilty of anything, then I should want to help them.” He looked at Jenna. “I have to admit, I was starting to crack. If you hadn’t come, I probably would have started talking.”
Jenna looked as though she wanted to spit nails. She got up and started pacing around the small room. “Why, that no-good dirtbag. I’ll have his badge,” she mumbled. After a few minutes, she sat down again and smiled at Dawson. “I’m sorry you had that experience. In this respect, your dad was right. If you ask for an attorney, they are supposed to stop and immediately call for a public defender.” She sighed. “However, now on to business. Do you have a dollar?”
Dawson looked puzzled but didn’t question Jenna’s request. He pulled out his wallet and took out a dollar and handed it to her.
She took the dollar. “Thank you. This is my retainer. That means you are retaining me to represent you and be your lawyer. I’ll write you a receipt and have you sign a document to that effect. Okay?”
Dawson nodded.
“Okay. Now, you are not to talk to the police at all unless I’m with you. Understand?”
Dawson nodded.
“I called your coach on my way here. He’s aware of the situation. He doesn’t know the university’s position yet. But I’m guessing the university will want to distance themselves from you until this whole mess is cleared up. There’s been so much negative publicity about football players and other athletes getting arrested, I’m sure the university counsel will recommend they take a neutral stance. But we’ll deal with that hurdle when we get there.”
Jenna pulled a notebook, tape recorder, and pen out from her briefcase. “Normally, I wouldn’t do things this way. But I need to know everything. Start from how you met Melody to today.” She turned on the tape recorder.
He paused and took a couple of deep breaths before beginning his tale. “I met Melody on campus. One day she came up to me in the quad and asked for my cell phone. When I gave it to her, she put her number in my contacts and handed the phone back. She told me to call her.”
Nana Jo whistled.
“Shush. I’m willing to let you two stay, but you need to be quiet and let him finish,” Jenna said.
We nodded.
She looked at Dawson. “Go on.”
“Well, she was hot and she was a senior and . . . she was really hot.”
“We get the picture. She was hot and easy and you got involved. Is that right?” Jenna asked.
Dawson nodded. “Yeah. We were involved.”
“How long?”
“Only a couple of months. The season started in late August, and she came up to me in September.”
Nana Jo made a sound that sounded like, harrumph. “Figures. MISU was on a winning streak, and your picture was on the front page of the River Bend Times. She saw her chance to latch on to a meal ticket and she took it.”
“Nana Jo, please.” Jenna looked irritated. “Stop interrupting.”
“It’s okay. She’s right. At first I was flattered. Guys looked at me different when I walked around campus with Melody on my arm. Girls too. But she didn’t really care about me. She only wanted to be seen with me. She just wanted to go to parties and have her picture taken. She wanted me to move out of my apartment.” He glanced at me shyly. “She went to the owner of Harbor Point Apartments and convinced him to rent the penthouse apartment to me.”
“Harbor Point?” Despite Jenna’s warning, I couldn’t stop myself from interrupting. “Those units are really expensive. They look right out on Lake Michigan. The penthouse must cost a fortune.”
“Normally, they lease for three thousand a month.”
Nana Jo whistled, and I nearly choked.
Even Jenna seemed surprised. “How could you afford that?”
“I can’t. The owner is a big MISU fan and a friend of hers. She said he was willing to lease it to me for two hundred a month.”
Jenna looked as though she could barely believe her ears. “Two hundred? That’s ridiculous. Sam could get more than two hundred a month for the garage studio. Why would he do that?”
Dawson shrugged. “I don’t know, but it seemed shady. I didn’t like the guy. He seemed slimy. He was older and wore polyester shirts with all these gold chains. He had really dark chest hair and big fake-looking hair that looked like a toupee. I just didn’t trust him.” Dawson looked down.
After six months, I knew Dawson pretty well. Nana Jo and I exchanged glances. There was more to this. Jenna hadn’t spent nearly as much time with Dawson as we had, but her instincts must have kicked in because she remained quiet and waited. Most people didn’t recognize the power of silence and tried to fill it in quickly. As a former teacher, I can honestly say silence generated more results than anything else I’d ever said or done. It worked this time too.
“He reminded me of my dad. I knew there would be something in it for him later. One night I was playing pool with some friends by the old HOD.”
“The HOD?” Jenna stared. “That trailer park owned by the House of David?”
Dawson nodded.
The House of David was a religious commune that flourished in North Harbor during the early twentieth century. At one time, the area thrived with an amusement park, baseball stadium, and fruit and vegetable market. Practically all their businesses had closed long ago when their founder, Benjamin Purnell, was tried for fraud and accused of child molestation. The molestation charges were never proved, but the rumors did plenty of damage. Purnell died not long after the trial and the House of David split into two factions.
“I saw him there. Virgil Russell was at the bar, drinking.”
Either Dawson had learned to read my mind, or I’d let my thoughts show on my face, because he hurried to
add, “I wasn’t drinking. I just like to go there and shoot pool. It’s quiet. No one there talks football or knows who I am.” He hung his head.
I hadn’t realized how much pressure he was under. I thought his biggest worry was keeping his grades up and staying on the team. I hadn’t realized how much the pressure of the media and the fans was weighing on him. As I scanned his face now, I saw what I hadn’t before.
“So, you saw this Virgil Russell at the pool hall,” Jenna continued. “Did he see you?”
“No. I snuck out as soon as I saw him. But, he looked like he was waiting for someone. I don’t know why, but I waited in the car until he came out. When he came out, he wasn’t alone.”
Dawson’s voice got very soft. He was obviously reluctant to continue, but he took a couple of deep breaths and plowed forward. “That’s when I saw them. Melody and Virgil were together.”
Jenna looked at me.
I shrugged. Obviously she knew Virgil since she introduced Dawson to him. Again, my face must have revealed my confusion.
Dawson fidgeted and refused to make eye contact for several seconds. Then he looked at me. “Don’t you see, they were together.”
Finally, it dawned on all of us at the same time.
“It was disgusting. He had to be old enough to be her father. He had his hands all over her, and she was wrapped around him like a . . . like a . . .” Dawson struggled to find the right simile to describe what he’d seen.
Nana Jo didn’t have any trouble conjuring up the right comparison. “Like an octopus.”
“Yeah. That pretty much says it all.”
I studied Dawson’s facial expressions and body language, and I knew there was more. He was holding something back. But I refused to entertain the thought he murdered that girl.
Jenna took a couple of deep breaths. “Okay, so you saw your girlfriend with another man. Did that make you angry?”
Dawson seemed to think about the question before answering, “Maybe for a few seconds. But, honestly, I think I felt relieved.”
“Relieved? Why relieved?” Jenna asked.
“I knew things wouldn’t work between Melody and me. I knew she didn’t care about me. This gave me the excuse I needed to end things with her. And that’s what I did. I broke it off.”