by R. D. Brady
It appeared that the killer had just walked right up to her and sliced. No hesitation. Which meant he was either really, really angry, or really, really practiced. Or both. And he was someone who she knew, or at least recognized. Someone who didn’t send up any red flags. Someone who waited to dump the body.
He did a quick check of her forearms and shins. There didn’t seem to be any defensive wounds there either. She definitely hadn’t put up a fight. And he saw no obvious evidence of sexual assault, although further tests would be needed to confirm that. In fact, he got the impression that none of Elise’s clothes had even been removed.
“You knew him, didn’t you, Elise?” he murmured.
Russ appeared back at the door. “Uh, Declan?”
“Yeah?”
“Chief wants me back at the station.”
“I’m good here. Go on.”
Russ nodded and left. His relief was obvious.
Declan stepped back, thinking. With the bridge out, getting an autopsy done any time soon was just not going to happen. But Declan knew that Keith would zero in on Steve right away. Keith would get the town worked up—and Declan didn’t like to think about what that could mean.
Damn. Declan walked back to his forensics bag and pulled out the plastic evidence bags. Time to get to work.
CHAPTER 32
It was mid-morning, and Steve was heading home from his early shift at the diner. The rain was once again coming down in torrents. I should call Declan and see how that woman and her daughter are doing, he thought as he turned onto his grandmother’s street. He had meant to call last night, but after he’d taken a hot shower and had a hot meal, he’d all but passed out.
Then this morning he’d gone straight back to work at Mel’s. They’d had a bit of a crowd, and even from back in the kitchen, Steve could hear everybody talking about the bridge collapse. He’d also heard his name mentioned more than once, in uncertain tones. Apparently the town monster wasn’t supposed to sideline as a hero. By around ten, though, the place was dead, so Mel had sent him home.
When Steve reached his grandmother’s, he shook out his poncho and left it hanging on the light by the front door. He looked down at himself and shook his head. Despite the poncho, he was soaked again. He was beginning to think there was nothing that was going to keep the rain out. It found every opening and slipped in.
He opened the door, and Bess was waiting for him with a towel.
He smiled. “Thanks.”
“How bad is it getting?”
Steve pictured the streets he’d walked through. “Pretty bad. Most of the sewers are filled. The water’s got nowhere to go. We should probably stay in until the worst passes.”
She nodded. “I made some soup.”
“I’d love a bowl as soon as I shower.”
“Well, hop to.”
He saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”
She swatted him playfully.
He laughed as he headed up the stairs. Fifteen minutes later he was showered, changed, and re-bandaging the cut on his arm.
“Steve, you out?” his grandmother called from downstairs.
“Yeah, Gran.” He put the last piece of tape on the fresh gauze covering his cut from yesterday. He was finally feeling warm. He headed out of the bathroom and for the stairs.
“Bring down your laundry,” Bess called.
Steve dutifully went back in and collected his clothes. This time when he headed down the stairs, his grandmother was waiting in the kitchen doorway, a basket of laundry in her hands. Steve placed everything in the basket, then reached out to take it from her.
She stepped out of his reach. “Nope, I got this. You should rest that arm. I’m so proud of you, honey.”
“I know, Grandma.” She had been saying she was proud of him ever since she’d found out about the bridge rescue. “But it was nothing, really.”
“You listen to me, Steven Michael Kane: you are a hero. You saved that woman and her baby. People have said enough bad things about you that aren’t true. So you take credit for the heroic thing you did that is true.”
He reached for the basket again.
She moved it out of his way again. “I said I’ve got this. Besides, I can’t have the town hero doing laundry.”
Steve groaned, but his grandma just smiled at him. In fact, she’d been smiling nonstop since Jack had called yesterday and told her what had happened. And as much as Steve hated being the center of attention, he had to admit that seeing her smile made it worthwhile.
“Yes, ma’am.” He looked out the window. “Looks like the rain stopped.”
Bess headed for the basement stairs. “No. This is the small break they said we’re getting.” She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “I made some muffins. They’re on the kitchen table.”
“Blueberry?”
“Yes.”
Steve spied the covered plate on the countertop. Ah, there is goodness in this world.
But just as he reached for the plate, the doorbell rang. So close. He could smell the blueberry muffins, and his stomach growled in response.
His grandmother yelled from downstairs. “I’ll get it.”
Steve turned and headed back for the door. “No, it’s good. I got it.”
Through the window in the door, he saw the tan and brown uniform of the Millners Kill police department. Shit.
He heard his grandmother coming back up the stairs from the basement. He struggled to think of something to say that would make her walk back into the kitchen, but his mind was a blank. So he turned to the door and opened it.
“Um, hey Steve,” Russ said.
Steve nodded. “Russ.”
Russ looked at his feet. “Um, look, the chief wants you down at the station.”
Bess came to stand next to Steve in the doorway. “Russ Nash, how are you? Did you come by to say hi to Steve? Did you hear what he did yesterday?”
Russ smiled. “Hi, Mrs. Davidson. Yes, ma’am, I did. He’s a real hero.”
Bess beamed and wrapped her arm around Steve’s forearm. “That’s what I keep telling him.”
Steve turned to his grandmother, keeping his voice light. “I’m just going to go for a little ride with Russ. Okay?”
His grandmother looked at Steve, then at Russ. She narrowed her eyes. “Is that right?”
Steve stared at Russ, begging him silently not to worry his grandmother.
Russ nodded. “Yeah. I thought we could go for a ride. Um, and there’s some, uh, paperwork stuff we need him to fill out. I didn’t get a chance to after the bridge.”
Bess nodded with a smile. “Oh, all right. Don’t stay out too long.” She gave Steve a hug. “Give me a call if you won’t be home for dinner.”
“Will do,” Steve said, returning the hug.
He watched Bess return to her chair before stepping out onto the porch and closing the door behind him. At the top of the stairs, he turned to Russ. “This isn’t about the bridge, is it?”
Russ pulled out his handcuffs and shook his head. “Chief wants to ask you some questions.”
Steve was honestly at a loss. “About what?”
“There’s been a murder.”
Steve went cold. He could feel his defenses fall over him like armor. His voice had an edge to it. “And I’m the prime suspect.”
Russ hesitated. “Chief wanted me to cuff your arms behind you.”
Steve sighed. Of course.
Before he could turn around, Russ placed the cuffs on Steve’s wrists. “But I think in front will be all right.” He looked Steve in the eyes. “I’m sorry about this.”
Steve sighed, but said nothing as he followed Russ to the squad car. You and me both.
CHAPTER 33
Russ drove into the parking lot at the back of the police station and pulled right up to the curb. There were only a handful of cars there, most likely belonging to the other officers. Large puddles of water lay stagnant around them.
Steve looked around. There was no one ther
e. “Why are we going in through the back?”
“Fewer people will see you going in,” Russ said as he got out of the car and opened the back door for Steve.
Surprised, Steve nodded his thanks.
Russ herded Steve inside the station and down a back hallway. He stopped at an open door on the right and guided Steve through.
A giant mirror hung on one wall in front of a metal table and three chairs. The table was bolted to the floor—Steve knew this from experience. He’d been here before. This was Millners Kill’s one and only interrogation room.
Russ gestured to the chairs. “Take a seat.”
Steve did, then placed his hands on the table.
Russ took the chain that was anchored to the table and connected it to Steve’s handcuffs, then stepped back. “You need anything?”
Steve shook his head. “No.”
“Okay, well the chief should be in soon.” Russ closed the door behind him.
Soon. Right. Steve knew the chief wasn’t going to be rushing in here. A giant clock across from him told him it was 11:38. He figured the chief would keep him waiting for about two hours.
He was wrong. It was over three. Keith strolled in at 2:42.
Deputy Califano followed him in, pushing a TV and VCR on a rolling cart. He situated them in the corner and plugged in the cords. “You need me to stay, Chief?”
Keith waved him away. “No. I’m good.”
With a glare at Steve, the deputy left.
Steve ignored him and looked at the cart, feeling strangely comforted to see a piece of technology he recognized. But what on earth did they have on tape that related to him?
Keith took a seat across from Steve and linked his fingers together on the table. “So, I guess you know why you’re here.”
“Russ told me there was a murder.”
“Oh, he told you? Or did you already know?”
Steve stared at him in silence. Apparently Keith’s interrogation skills hadn’t improved any in the past ten years. He’d always sounded like the bad cop in a cheesy ’80s movie.
Keith leaned back in his chair. “So why don’t you tell me where you were at the time of the murder?”
“I don’t know the time of the murder.”
Keith sneered. “Right. You killed that girl.”
Steve stared back at him. “No. I did not.”
A knock came at the door. Steve turned as his brother walked in.
“Chief. Steve.”
Keith stood up. “What are you doing here, Jack?”
“Well, I heard you had my brother in custody. I thought he could use a lawyer.”
Keith snorted. “He’s not in custody. We’re just chatting.”
Jack looked pointedly at the cuffs around Steve’s wrists. “Oh really?”
“Just a precaution.”
Jack’s voice turned a shade harder, as if he was trying to keep from yelling. “Keith, this is an illegal arrest. Anything said up until this point is inadmissible. Did you even read him his Miranda rights?”
Keith looked away. “I’m sure somebody did.”
Jack glanced over at Steve, who shook his head.
“Right. “ Jack pulled a chair over next to Steve and sat. “How about we start with you taking the cuffs off of my client?”
“I don’t have the key,” Keith mumbled.
Jack stared daggers at Keith. “We’ll wait.”
Keith looked between the two of them for a moment, then stormed out of the room.
Jack turned to Steve and smiled. “Well, that was fun. So do you know why you’re here?”
“Russ said there was a murder. But no one’s given me any details.”
The smile dropped from Jack’s face. “It was Elise Ingram.”
Steve drew in a sharp breath. He pictured Elise from the supermarket briefly, but the image he had of her as a kid stayed longer. “Oh, man. What happened?”
“She was found down on the beach by the old factory. I don’t know the cause of death.”
Steve felt a sinking in his gut. “She rang up my groceries when I went shopping for Grandma the day before yesterday, the day I got back.”
“That’s right.” Jack looked a little shaken. “But it’ll be all right. Did you talk to her at all?”
Steve shook his head. “Not really. Just a little while she rang everything up.”
“And then what?”
“Then I left and ran into you. Haven’t seen her since. Or even thought of her.”
Jack nodded. “Keith’s reaching. He’s hoping you’ll let something slip.”
“There’s nothing to slip. I didn’t do this.”
Jack clapped him on the shoulder. “I know.”
Russ walked in with the handcuff keys. He wouldn’t look Steve in the eye as he removed the cuffs. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for cuffing you, Mr. Kane. I misunderstood the chief’s request.”
Once the cuffs were off, Steve rubbed his wrists. “It’s okay, Russ.”
Russ met his eyes with a nod. “Um, and I need to read you your Miranda rights.”
Before either Jack or Steve could say anything, Russ rattled them off. “Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?”
“Yeah. I understand them,” Steve said.
Keith walked in, followed by Deputy Califano. The deputy went and stood in the corner next to the TV, and Keith retook his seat. “That will be all, Deputy Nash.”
With a glance at Steve, Russ left, his shoulders taut.
“Now that that’s sorted out,” Keith said, “I have a few questions for your client.”
Jack glanced over at Steve. “It’s up to you.”
Steve wanted to tell the chief to go screw himself, but he knew he’d only be delaying the inevitable. He shrugged. “Sure, whatever.”
Keith took his seat. “Do you know Elise Ingram?”
“Yes.”
Keith smiled, but it wasn’t kind. “So you admit you knew the victim.”
Jack interrupted. “Keith, you know damn well the Ingrams lived down the street from us. Of course he knows who Elise Ingram is. There are five thousand people in Millners Kill. Everybody knows who everybody is.”
Keith glared at Jack, his jaw tight. “Fine. Have you spoken with Elise Ingram since you were released?”
Steve glanced at Jack, who nodded. “Two days ago at Tops. She was the cashier. She rang up my groceries.”
Keith pulled a picture from the folder in front of him and slapped it down on the table. “How about when she looked like this? Do you remember seeing her then?”
Steve blanched. In the photo, Elise was pale, making the angry red mark around her neck even more obvious. Blood had pooled around the cut, and some had splashed on her face. Blue eyes stared straight ahead, seeing nothing.
Steve tightened his jaw. Bastard. “I never saw her like that.”
Keith leaned forward. “But you admit you had a relationship with the victim?”
“No. I didn’t have a relationship with her. I spoke with her for five minutes, if that.”
Keith gestured to the deputy. The deputy turned on the TV and hit play on the VCR. It was a surveillance tape from Tops. Elise was at the register in the middle. Steve saw himself in line behind a couple.
“Why’d you get in Elise’s line?” Keith asked. “There were two other lines open.”
Steve looked dumbfounded. Why? He’d been staring at the ground, trying not to make eye contact with anybody. He’d gotten in the shortest line. He didn’t even know the cashier was a girl until he got to the front.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, I just did.”
Keith nodded like he’d just scored some sort of point.
Steve ignored him and watched the tape. He saw himself reach the front of the line. Elise leaned over the conveyor belt, her smile big. Steve saw himself look anywhere but at her.
“Looks like you’re casing the place,” Keith said.
Jack interrupted. “Keith, is Steve here for
burglary or murder?”
Keith narrowed his eyes. “He’s here for whatever I say he’s here for.” He pointed at the TV. “It looks to me like your brother here was flirting, and it didn’t work.”
Jack chuckled. “Then you need to have your eyes checked. Elise flirted with him. Not the other way round.”
“Well, maybe he didn’t like her coming on to him. Maybe he thought he was better than her. And then he proved to her he was better than her.”
“Maybe you’ve been watching too many movies of the week,” Jack replied, his voice cool. “If you’re going to charge my client, then charge him. If you’re not, this interview is over.”
“I can hold him for twenty-four hours.”
Jack nodded. “Yes. You can. But you and I both know you don’t have the probable cause to detain him longer than that. You’re fishing.”
“So maybe I’ll hold him for twenty-four hours, just for the hell of it.”
Jack held up his phone. “That’s an abuse of power, Chief. And I’ve been recording this whole little interview.”
“You can’t—” Keith spluttered. “That’s not admissible.”
“Actually, the courts have held that as long as one person in the conversation knows it’s being recorded—and that would be me—then there is no expectation of privacy. Besides, this is an interrogation room. This conversation should be being recorded anyway. So yes, it will be admissible. And you need to think very carefully as you decide whether you want to risk your career over a lousy, barely circumstantial case.”
“You think your brother can beat me in the court of public opinion?” Keith sneered.
“No,” Jack said emphatically. “But you wouldn’t be going up against him. You’d be going up against me. Do you really think you can beat me in the court of public opinion?”
Keith stared back at Jack, and Steve could swear steam was about to shoot out of the man’s ears. “You’d risk your career for him?”
