Cold Justice: A Judge Willa Carson Mystery (The Hunt for Justice)

by Diane Capri

  Randy Trevor sat with both elbows on the arms of his chair, his hands clasped together, looking down as if he were praying. Maybe he was. If my jurisdiction was beset by such a killer, I would’ve been.

  “What do you make of all of this Willa?” he asked. “You were always good at figuring things out. Justin tells me you discovered the body this morning. What did you see that we might have missed? What’s going on here in my sleepy little town?”

  Everyone in Pleasant Harbor knew everyone else. Odds were that the killer was not a stranger to anyone, either. Which meant that Trevor could be involved in all of this somehow. Kemp and Sue Evans, too. My experience and my gut said so, even if the evidence didn’t. Yet.

  Trevor’s professional involvement was fine, albeit premature. No one had been arrested yet and until a suspect was in custody, his role was not official.

  Maybe he was curious. Dedicated, perhaps. After all, I had no official role here, either. And yet here I sat. Because Trevor made it so. No one in Tampa would have had that kind of power over me or anyone on our police force. Yet Trevor and others believed he had that power here. Good to know.

  I shrugged. “I’m a visitor, Randy. All I know is that you have some pretty bizarre stuff going on in this ‘sleepy little town.’” I mimicked his inflection on the last three words. He probably thought I was being snide. I probably was.

  Trevor considered something for a few seconds and seemed to make a decision of his own. “Would you mind waiting for us outside, Justin?” Kemp nodded, doing Trevor’s bidding once again. How far could Kemp be trusted? I heard the door close behind me.

  Judge Trevor leaned forward, placing both forearms on his desk, and refolded his hands into the prayer position. He looked at me with the earnest expression I could remember so clearly it felt like a flashback to an earlier time. A time before snow snipers and murder victims and blizzards and my missing husband. A time when I had nothing to fear from Randy Trevor and he had nothing to fear from me. A lifetime ago.

  “Pleasant Harbor was a sleepy little town when I moved here ten years ago,” he said, ignoring my snide remark. “We’ve grown a lot since then. Our population, year-round, is low five digits but that’s misleading. We get tourists now, winter and summer, sufficient to swell the number of folks to at least ten thousand every weekend.”

  He raised his water glass and took a sip, then settled more comfortably in his chair. I thought he might actually put his feet on the desk like he regularly did when we were associates, but he didn’t.

  “What’s your point?” I said.

  He glared a bit. I was getting under his skin. Good. He might make a mistake I could exploit if he wasn’t too comfortable. “Now we have all the problems any other big city has. I get the New York Times delivered to my house every day. My wife wears couture clothes and carries expensive handbags when we go to dinner. And we’ve got so much crime these days that we’re building a big new jail and courthouse complex to deal with it all.”

  I shrugged. Whatever he thought would impress me in that speech had missed the mark. “My jurisdiction covers several big cities, Randy. But even in Tampa we don’t let snipers get away with murder and go on their merry way until the next unlucky motorist happens past.”

  This time my tone had been more than snide. I was insulting and I didn’t really care. He’d hijacked me, not the other way around. He owed me answers, at the very least. I owed him nothing.

  Trevor jerked his head back sharply. He was a big man about town here, probably not used to disrespect of any kind. But to me he was just another guy with a government job. Meaning he worked for us, not the other way around. And he was not half as important as he seemed to think. Not to me, anyway.

  I rose from my chair. “I’ve got things to do.”

  He waived me back. “Okay. Okay.”

  I gave him my best get-to-the-point stare. The one that works on recalcitrant defendants in my courtroom a lot better than his methods were working on me.

  I sat on the edge of the seat this time, letting him see I wasn’t making myself too comfortable, the better to get up and go if he didn’t stop jerking me around.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  He swiped his hair with his open left-hand and a weary sigh escaped his mouth. “It’s been hard for David Mason these last few years. He was just getting on his feet again.”

  So Kemp had lied to me. Trevor did know about the ballistics report after all. He knew David Mason’s stolen gun was used to murder Leo Richards. He thought David had done the deed.

  “David’s family was just coming out of a really bad patch after his business partner gambled away all their assets and disappeared.”

  Yeah, yeah, yeah. I was a little too tired of the excuses. “And then what?” I prodded.

  Trevor sighed again. He stood and began to pace the room, slowly, as if he was creating his story as he went. “I’m not sure exactly. I know that people didn’t trust him. He’d had trouble paying his employees. David went to work over at the cafe, which pays enough to keep the wolf from the door, I guess.”

  “What does any of this have to do with Leo Richards’ murder? Or with me, for that matter?”

  Trevor bowed his head again briefly before he looked up to give me a steady gaze. “Leo Richards was David’s business partner. He’s the one who destroyed David and his family. And then he just vanished months ago and left David to handle the mess.”

  “And David couldn’t handle it,” I said. “So you’re saying David Mason had a good reason to kill Richards, then. Your case is solved. You should be telling Kemp this story instead of me.”

  Trevor stopped and stared at me with a stunned expression I took to be surprise. “You don’t know?” Then, he caught himself and resumed a weary tone. “Not that it matters. Everyone knows.”

  I waited. He’d spit it out or he wouldn’t. I didn’t care one way or the other and I didn’t see why he’d think I might care.

  “David Mason is my brother-in-law. His wife and my wife are sisters,” Trevor said.

  The weary countenance didn’t impress me. I was weary, too. George was missing and I couldn’t make it back to the cottage alone. I felt trapped physically, emotionally and intellectually and I struggled against the restraints.

  “When did you find out David was coming unraveled?”

  Trevor removed his hand from his pocket and wiped his face. “Three weeks ago. David became more and more frantic. Three weeks wouldn’t have been a problem, if this was the first time he’d been unable to pay his bills. People are neighborly here. Creditors would have let him slide.”

  But of course, it wasn’t the first time. Far from it, I’d bet.

  “People who had been burned before were unwilling to give him a chance. What could he do?” He actually looked at me with innocence in his eyes, as if his excuses for his brother-in-law’s criminal behavior were remotely acceptable.

  Now it was my turn to be incredulous. And pissed off. “Besides kill Leo Richards you mean?” I stood up and turned to stalk out.

  In a flash he was behind me. He grabbed my arm. “Wait,” he pleaded. “Please.”

  I looked at him. “For what?” He still held my arm. I looked down pointedly at the hand he’d placed to restrain me.

  He did not let go. “There is a snow sniper, Willa. The State Police will arrest him today. He killed three people already. He could have killed Leo Richards, too. The snow sniper is a more likely suspect than David. He’s killed three times before. Three times. He’ll be convicted. It won’t take long. He could have killed a fourth time. Maybe he did. I need your help, Willa. Will you help me?”

  No, I wanted to scream, I will not help you. And if you don’t do your job, I’ll make sure you pay for Richards’ murder, too. Remember Richard Nixon. It’s not the crime, it’s the cover up.

  But I didn’t say that.

  And because I said nothing, he continued, “David Mason is not a bad man, Willa, but he is a desperate one. I know you see desper
ate people in your courtroom all the time, because I do. Desperate people do desperate things.” Still he held my arm, restraining my freedom, making me angrier by the millisecond. “David has a wife. Small children. His family needs him.”

  As if that made David’s actions somehow less heinous, less destructive.

  “Leo Richards had a wife and a daughter, too. You took an oath to uphold the law just like I did, Randy,” I told him, shaking my arm so that he’d let me go. “Are you going to do that? Or do I have to do it for you?”

  If George and I hadn’t stumbled upon the crime scene, David might have escaped detection completely. By the time Kemp arrived at the Toyota this morning, most of the exterior forensic evidence had already been destroyed. Perhaps it would all have been gone, even the ballistics. Randy Trevor would have had his way.

  The mere idea heated up my anger like one of those steam tunnels under the old asylum. I was near ready to blow.

  What Randy and David had planned seemed like the perfect crime. Randy knew the snow sniper had been identified and would be arrested with just a little bit more evidence. He might have told David about it or maybe David just got lucky with the timing. Either way, David killed Leo thinking the snow sniper would be blamed. His insurance against prison was his brother in law, the one and only judge.

  In a town like Pleasant Harbor, Judge Randy Trevor would have enough clout to make something like this go away for David, if David was arrested at all. Trevor shouldn’t preside over a case involving his brother-in-law, but who would object? If no one challenged him, there were any number of ways he could have helped David avoid conviction. But if all those methods failed, Trevor could simply give David Mason a suspended sentence, too.

  Was my old colleague that corrupt? Would he do that? I could see in his eyes that he would.

  “Forget it, Randy. I was there. I saw Leo Richards’ brains blown all to hell. David brought the gun and set up the crime. Maybe he didn’t mean to kill Leo, but he intended to threaten him, at the very least.” I gathered my coat and pulled my gloves out of the deep pocket. “If you think I’m going to let David get away with murder, you have another think coming,” I told him as I turned, once again, toward the door.

  Trevor put both hands into his pockets and walked around me. He opened the door so that I could walk out. Loud enough for Sue and Kemp to hear, he said “Thank you for coming, Judge Carson.” In slightly sinister tones, or at least that’s how it sounded to me, he said, “I won’t forget this.”

  I raised my voice slightly to be sure everyone within earshot could hear. “Neither will I. I’ve been home-towned by better men than you, Randy. Check it out if you doubt my word. Don’t get in my way.”

  We glared at each other half a moment more before I stalked out.

  Kemp followed close behind me as I strode through Judge Trevor’s outer office and began the trek across the parking lot. Outside, snow continued to fall in heavy, wet flakes. At least another inch of the white barricade had accumulated since he’d parked the cruiser. Could I walk three miles back to the cottage without freezing to death? Maybe not. But I would damn sure try.

  I kicked at the snow and watched it pile up on my boots. The snow was my enemy now, keeping me captive here in this silently hostile world, away from George, away from my beloved Florida sunshine.

  Neither Kemp nor I said anything more until we reached the cruiser. As I marched past the door, he laid a restraining hand on my shoulder and I shook it off.

  “Don’t be so stubborn for once. You’ll freeze out here and you won’t find a ride in this weather. I can take you back to your cottage, but you know you’ll be stuck there until this weather clears. You can’t drive anywhere.” I kept moving, even as I knew he was right. He grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him. “You’ll never get there. Let me drive you. I brought you here. I feel responsible for you.”

  I said nothing. Was Kemp under Judge Trevor’s control now? I’d be a fool to assume otherwise.

  “I’ve lived here all my life, Willa. I know these roads. The county tries, but the plows can’t keep up with this much snowfall.” He released my arm and opened the passenger door.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I wanted to keep walking, to ignore him, to make it back under my own steam. But I knew he was right. I was more likely to die trying. So I said nothing and struggled into the front seat. He closed me inside and walked around the back of the cruiser.

  He settled into the driver’s seat, put the key into the ignition and turned it. The cruiser roared to life. He flipped on the windshield wipers, throwing heavy snow onto the ground. Next, he turned up the fan, full blast, and we watched as the cold air fogged the windshield from the inside.

  It was the last straw.

  The events of the day finally broke through my forced composure.

  “Shit!” I said, slamming my hand down on the dash. “How can anybody live in this godforsaken place?”

  To my astonishment, Kemp threw back his head and roared with laughter. I stared at him as if he had declared himself a lunatic.

  “What’s so damn funny?”

  He collected himself, but his eyes teared with the effort of contained laughter. “I’m sorry. It’s just that—”

  “What?” I snapped at him. I grabbed for the door handle to stalk out, or as close to stalking as possible in thigh deep snow, but he didn’t move.

  “Well, look around you,” he gestured a wide arc with his arm. “It’s beautiful here. The snow makes everything look like a storybook village.”

  “Not to me, it doesn’t,” I told him in a stern tone that sobered his humor quickly. “I see a place where people get killed in their cars. And their killers get away with it.”

  I bit back my words and didn’t say and threatened by judges because I wasn’t ready to share that with Kemp or anyone else just yet. I needed to sort out how to handle that for myself first. I’d warned Randy Trevor off. But he was dangerous and I didn’t know how far he would go. I wasn’t afraid of him, but I wasn’t ready to take him on, even though I’d told him otherwise.

  I tried again to open the door, but Kemp had pushed the door locks and held me captive.

  “Look,” Kemp said, glancing down at his watch. “It’s dark out, already after five o’clock. My shift is over. What if we grab a quick dinner and then I’ll make sure you get back and settled in for the night.”

  I wanted to find George and drive down to Traverse City and catch the first flight out of here. I wanted to sit next to George and hold his hand and talk to him. I wanted to be there when his eyes twinkled and he said, “Hey, what’s up, Mighty Mouse?”

  But I didn’t know where George was or when he would be back. Kemp was right. Again. Dammit. Why had I never listened to George when he wanted me to carry a concealed weapon? Stubbornness actually can go too far. Who knew?

  Now that the windows were partially clear, I could see the main road in front of the courthouse was snow blocked again. The plows hadn’t been by here in at least an hour, and more fresh snow had piled on top of the old, and it was still coming down fast. It would be the same everywhere, only most roads would be even worse.

  The wind was starting to whip up, too. Wind would take some of the humidity out of the air and blow drifts across the roads. Treacherous black ice was impossible to see or tame. If I got stuck out there, I could very well freeze to death. I’d be of no use to anyone suffering from frostbite, or worse.

  Reluctantly, I had to agree with Kemp.

  But I didn’t have to like it.

  “Come on,” Kemp cajoled. “You need to eat. We’re not far from Eagle Creek Cafe. You won’t find better food anywhere.”

  He was right on all points. I might as well have a good meal. I hadn’t eaten much today and we had scant provisions at the cottage. I’d be at least a little safer in a place where there were other people. And maybe my phone would work in a more populated place and I could get connected and back in control of my life.

&n
bsp; “Okay, Kemp. You’ve worn me down.”

  He grinned. “And you can call me Justin, Willa. It’ll make dinner conversation less ridiculous,” he said as he put the cruiser in gear and slowly made our way through the white drifts covering the roads.

  Our progress toward Eagle Creek was glacial. He’d popped the cruiser into four-wheel drive, which helped some with traction, but required an even slower pace. We spent half an hour driving and sliding the two miles to the restaurant.

  “His wife, Madeline, is the real power behind the throne. She’s got a temper, too. Trevor is an all-around good guy, Willa. He takes care of his family is all. Can’t blame a guy for that,” Kemp said, eyes staring straight ahead, white knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

  “So I figured out,” I replied, sarcasm loaded in my tone. I was still mad. Not ready to let my grievances go.

  “The family’s had a run of bad luck for the past few years,” he said.

  “Bad luck? Is that what you call it around here? Where I’m from, we call that murder and it gets you the death penalty.” My hand had a tight grip on the armrest and my feet pressed into the floor helping to keep my balance as Kemp’s cruiser struggled and slid and slewed along the snow covered streets.

  Kemp glanced briefly toward me, looking for agreement or friendship or something I wasn’t prepared to offer. “We don’t know that David killed Leo yet. And even if we find out that David did pull the trigger, can you imagine how hard that’s got to be on Trevor?”

  “Not as hard as it was on Leo Richards, I’ll bet,” I replied.

  “There’s six kids involved, you know.”

  “Six? I’m confused. I thought Leo had two and David had two.”

  “That’s right, but Trevor has two kids also.”

  “What do the judge’s kids have to do with anything? He’s sentenced murderers before, surely. His kids have got to know that’s his job, even if their friends are involved. Why would they be worried about that?”

  “So you’d have Randy Trevor, what, send his brother-in-law to prison and then raise those kids in addition to Leo’s and his own?”