Justice Delayed

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Justice Delayed Page 4

by Patricia Bradley


  She did not want to spend hours at the ER.

  “Or I could call Mom.” Brad held up his phone. “Which is it?”

  “Don’t call Mom!” Sure, her brother was worried about her, but did he have to be so bossy? She tried to think of a way out of going to the hospital. Her heart stilled when Will lifted her chin and examined her eyes.

  “Your pupils are slightly dilated,” he said. “I think you ought to listen to your brother and get checked out.”

  Staring into his cobalt-blue eyes was what made her pupils dilate. This was her brother’s friend—why did his nearness suddenly make her heart rev up like an Indy 500 car? Get ahold of yourself. “Please, I don’t want to spend five hours waiting to see a doctor. Would you settle for a walk-in clinic? There’s one two blocks away, and Treece can take me.”

  The corner of Brad’s mouth twitched as he hooked his phone back on his belt, then his eyes softened and he turned to Will. “Would you take her while I wait for the crime scene techs?”

  “Sure,” Will said. “Do you want me to ask her about . . .”

  “About what?” Andi asked. She looked from Will to her brother. For the first time it dawned on her they were wearing jeans and U of M hoodies. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered it was March Madness and the Tigers had made it to the Final Four. “Wait a minute. You’re supposed to be at the game celebrating Will’s promotion to the Cold Case Unit.”

  “Yeah,” Treece said, “but you were almost here when I called. What’s going on?”

  Will frowned. “How did you hear about the promotion? I haven’t told anyone except him.” He jerked his thumb at Brad.

  Her brother winced. “I told Mom, and she called, right?”

  “This afternoon. Congratulations.” She glanced at the clock. “But it’s eight thirty, and the game started an hour ago. What’s going on?”

  “A possible suicide, maybe murder case,” Brad said. “We were coming to find out why your cell phone number is on the victim’s phone.”

  “What?” Andi combed her mind, trying to imagine which of her contacts could have ended up dead, and more than one popped into her mind. “Who’s your victim?”

  “That conversation can wait,” Will said, and Brad nodded agreement. “Let’s get you checked out first.”

  “No, I want—”

  “Don’t argue with the man. My case isn’t going anywhere, and I’ll be here when you get back.” Brad crossed his arms. “And the sooner you go, the sooner you get answers.”

  She narrowed her eyes at the two men. Sometimes she got her way with them, but the looks on their faces said that wasn’t going to happen tonight. “Okay,” she grumbled. “But don’t be surprised if my blood pressure blows the machine.”

  Now that JD knew where she lived, he should have waited for a better time, but in this neighborhood, there wouldn’t ever be a good time. Too many prying eyes when it was daylight, and who knew how long he’d have to wait for Andi to be away at night.

  Eighteen years he’d wondered what Stephanie did with the diamonds. And after he read Lacey’s letter to Andi with a reference to her having the diamonds, he hadn’t wanted to wait any longer.

  Andi had been easy to tail from the TV station to the airport, but he’d almost run over her at the exit. If he hadn’t caught up with her on I-240 just before she’d exited on Union, tracking her down would have been difficult. While Andi Hollister’s phone number was listed in Lacey’s phone, her address wasn’t.

  JD almost missed her again when he dropped back on the residential street, but he hit pay dirt when he saw her taillights turn into the drive. After parking and walking to the house, he’d walked around to the back where her car was parked. One apartment was lit up, the other dark. JD risked climbing the back stairs and discovered the silly girl had left her window unlocked.

  He’d been inside Andi’s apartment when he heard the two women climb the stairs, and was about to leave when Andi accepted the other woman’s invitation to eat pizza. How was he to know she’d pop over in only fifteen minutes? It hadn’t been enough time to find the diamonds or even a likely place to hide them.

  “Stephanie, why couldn’t you just give me the diamonds?” He spoke the words aloud in the darkness of his vehicle. They were the same words he had used eighteen years ago after he’d discovered what she’d done . . .

  JD took a threatening step toward her.

  Her eyes narrowed as she pulled a .38 from her pocket. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “Give me the diamonds, or I’ll take the gun away and use it on you.”

  “I don’t think you can.” Stephanie waved the gun.

  “Be reasonable,” he said. “Hand over those diamonds I put in your purse, and we can all walk away from this.”

  “How many times do I have to say this? They are going to stay where they are until I need them.”

  He took another step closer to Stephanie, and she raised the gun level with his chest. “Stop right there.”

  Just what he needed. A crazy woman with a gun. “Come on, honey. You’re not going to shoot me. Not after all we’ve meant to each other.”

  The gun didn’t waver. Stephanie jutted her chin. “You’re wrong about that, just like I was wrong about you. You never loved me. You used me, just like you did Jillian. I just hate it took me two months to figure it out.”

  He moistened his dry lips as he took a step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Come on, give me the gun and then tell me where the diamonds are . . .”

  Except she hadn’t told him, and the money he had to pay the supplier had wiped him out. He’d bounced back, but the loss was like a burr in his shoe. He wanted those diamonds. He couldn’t believe they had been under his nose all these years. Tomorrow he’d search the apartment.

  As he started his car, something one of the women said came back to him.

  “It was someone with initials . . .”

  Cold chills raced over his body. Evidently, Lacey had mentioned his name to Andi. He’d been so focused on the diamonds that the words hadn’t registered until now. If she remembered his name and repeated that to the wrong person . . .

  He should have killed Andi Hollister instead of knocking her out.

  5

  WILL WAITED IN THE RECEPTION AREA while Treece accompanied Andi to the examining room. Waiting gave him plenty of time to worry about what Andi had possibly gotten herself into this time. As a girl, she hadn’t known how to stay out of trouble, and nothing had changed now that she was a woman. A beautiful woman at that. He quickly squelched that thought.

  “I told you I was all right,” Andi said as she and Treece came through the clinic doors. “We just wasted an hour and a half.”

  “She does only have a mild concussion, but the cut on her head required five stitches,” Treece said.

  “Yeah, big waste of time.” He winked at Treece. “I could’ve sewn that up.”

  Andi made a face at him and made a beeline for the door.

  He hurried ahead of her. “Stay here and I’ll get the car.”

  A few minutes later, Treece was in the backseat, and he had Andi buckled in before he walked around to the driver’s side. His heart sank when he slid behind the wheel and saw her reading the Commercial Appeal he’d left on the console.

  Jimmy Shelton to Be Executed Sunday.

  She looked up from the newspaper, her eyes wide. “Seeing this in black and white . . .” She ducked her head. “The DA notified Mom and Dad, but they told her they wouldn’t be there.”

  Will blew out a breath. “It’s all I can think of—that he’ll die, and I can’t stop it.”

  Andi leaned against the seat. “He confessed, Will.”

  “A confession his attorney tried to have suppressed because it was coerced.” But it wasn’t the right time to discuss her sister’s murder, and he kept quiet for the rest of the drive home.

  Two cars other than Brad’s sat out front. “Crime scene guys,” he said when Andi ques
tioned him. After he parked behind the house, he helped her out of the car while Treece got out of the backseat.

  His heart dipped at the dark half circles under her eyes, and even though her grip was firm, frailty radiated from her slender frame. If he had his way, he’d scoop her up in his arms again and carry her inside, but she insisted on walking. At least she clung to his arm as they climbed the stairs.

  “Where’s Mrs. Casey?” he asked once she was settled on the sofa in Treece’s apartment.

  “Went to see her daughter in Nashville this afternoon, thank goodness.” Andi leaned her head back and then quickly moved it. “Ouch. The feeling is back. Where’s Brad? I want answers, since you won’t give me any.”

  “Look, try to go easy on him,” Will said. “He worries about you.”

  Resignation settled on her face. “I know, but I’m not some orchid that’s going to wilt every time I bump my knee.”

  “It wasn’t your knee you bumped,” Brad said as he came into Treece’s apartment. “It was your head because some burglar broke into your place. You could have been killed.”

  She swallowed hard and seemed to be on the verge of tears.

  “Did the crime scene techs find anything?” Will asked.

  “No. Andi must have surprised the intruder early. The only evidence he was even in her apartment was the open window. And the attack.” Brad sat in the chair across from Andi. “Are you really okay?”

  His best friend’s voice was gruff, but Will knew Brad cared deeply about his sister. It was just that Andi Hollister could get into more trouble than any woman he knew, and her brother often operated out of fear for her.

  When Brad saw her number on Lacey Wilson’s cell phone, his face had reflected the worry that latched on to Will. While Brad might think it was a suicide, he knew, just like Will, it was too early to rule out murder.

  “Yeah.” She touched the back of her head and winced. “Hate to admit you were right about getting checked out. Now tell me who was murdered.”

  “Or committed suicide. They’re finished with your apartment. Why don’t we go next door and talk?” Brad said.

  “No,” Andi said and nodded toward a salad on Treece’s bar. “I missed supper, and I’m hungry. Besides, I’ll end up telling Treece whatever we discuss as soon as you leave anyway.” She raised her eyebrows. “I bet you two haven’t eaten either. You can have some of my pizza.”

  “Not me.” Will shook his head. His stomach burned from the barbecue they’d wolfed down on the way over.

  “Me either,” Brad said. “We’ll talk while you eat. Have you recalled what the intruder said to you?”

  Andi allowed Will to help her from the sofa.

  “Thanks,” she murmured. “No. The doc said I might and I might not. All I remember is how insistent the man was that I had something that belonged to him. Either I didn’t hear what it was or I just don’t remember. Now, who is the murder victim?”

  Will exchanged a look with Brad. “A woman named Lacey Wilson,” he said. “And we’re not sure it’s a murder.”

  Treece gasped, and Andi sat down hard at the kitchen table. What little color she had drained from her face. “She was supposed to meet me tonight before she left town. How was she killed?”

  “We’re not sure yet,” Brad said. “How did you know her? And why does her name sound familiar to me?”

  “Because you should remember her. She lived at the house with Stephanie, and they were friends,” Andi said. “They worked together.”

  Brad snapped his finger just as the image of a younger version of the victim popped into Will’s mind. The Lacey Wilson he saw tonight didn’t look anything like the cute little blonde he remembered coming and going from the house next door.

  “Oh yeah,” Brad said. “Blonde hair. Not big as a minute. She worked with Steph as a flight attendant and came to the funeral. That’s why I had this odd feeling about this case.”

  Something about Brad’s voice caught Will’s attention. He always felt a barrier between them when the subject of Stephanie came up. They hadn’t discussed Stephanie’s death since it happened. Partly because Will hadn’t known how to talk to Brad about it after his cousin confessed to killing her. Then Will moved away the next month. When he returned to Memphis five years later, the murder was something they simply didn’t discuss.

  “Have you released the information about Lacey’s death to the media?” Treece asked.

  “Yeah.” Andi looked first at Will, then at Brad.

  “Not yet, and when we do, you don’t need to cover it,” her brother said.

  “Why not? I bet she was going to tell me something tonight, and someone murdered her before she could.”

  Will’s stomach clenched. That was exactly why she didn’t need to cover it. “Hey—you’ve just been attacked. The last thing you need is to get involved in this case,” he said.

  She shifted her gaze back to him. “I’m not helpless. Tomorrow I’ll be as fit as ever. Since someone is going to cover it, it might as well be me.”

  “But it hasn’t been released, so you don’t need to do anything tonight,” Treece said.

  “We don’t even know if it is a crime,” Will said.

  Andi smelled a story, and if it turned out to be murder like Will figured, it was possible the break-in to her apartment was related. He’d lost more than a little sleep since Andi left her position at the weather desk. It looked as though he might lose more.

  Then her shoulders slumped, and she shook her head as if to clear it. “I can’t believe I’m worrying about covering this story. Someone I know just died,” she said, a pained expression in her eyes.

  Will’s relief was short-lived as she swayed.

  “Andi!” Treece cried.

  Brad and Will jumped to catch her, but Will reached her first. He steadied her in the chair.

  Treece wet a cloth and placed it on her forehead.

  Will wanted to reach out to her as quiet filled the kitchen, but Brad acted first, patting her arm.

  “Squirt, you know you don’t have anything to prove here.”

  She moved the cloth and stared at him. “But I do. Ever since I was a kid, everyone always treated me with kid gloves because I was sick. I have to show I’m okay, that I can handle things.”

  “But you don’t have to risk your life like you do,” Will said. “Everyone knows you’re a great reporter.”

  “But don’t you understand? That’s why I’m good. I go after the hard stories.” She pressed the cloth to her face again. “I need to tell Maggie about Lacey.”

  “Who’s Maggie?” Brad said.

  “Madeline Starr. She was one of the other women who lived in the house with Steph.”

  “The defense attorney?” Will said. He didn’t realize the Maggie who had mowed the yard next door was the Madeline Starr who mowed down weak cases against her clients.

  Andi nodded. “We have lunch together sometimes.”

  “Good,” Brad said. “This is the stuff I need to know.”

  Treece set the salad and pizza in front of Andi and looked at the two men. “Andi needs to eat. Your questions can wait until she’s finished.”

  While Andi ate the pizza, Brad motioned to Will that he was stepping out into the hallway to get a report from the crime scene unit. It was also a silent request to get information from Andi. After wandering around Treece’s living room for a few minutes, Will sat at the table with the two women. “How does your head feel?”

  “Hurts like I had a jackhammer inside it. Not that my brother cares.” She stabbed a piece of lettuce in the bowl and brought it to her mouth.

  “Cut him some slack. He’s worried about you. It scared us both when we saw your name and phone number in the dead woman’s phone.”

  Andi glanced toward the door. “What happened to her?”

  “I’ll trade information.”

  “Deal. You go first.”

  “Oh no you don’t. First you tell me how you knew her other than from the past
.” He didn’t understand how Andi got involved with so many of the wrong people. Not that the Wilson woman was necessarily the wrong sort. She lived in an exclusive neighborhood, and the furnishings in the house were costly . . . but still, she was dead.

  “You two don’t fool me. Text Brad to come back in. I feel better, but I don’t feel like going over it twice.”

  He texted Brad while Andi ate another slice of pizza and nibbled at her salad.

  “Tell me how Lacey died,” she said when Brad rejoined them. “Then I’ll explain why she had my number.”

  Brad stared at her briefly. “It’s still up in the air, but I think it’s carbon monoxide poisoning—she sat in her running car with the garage door closed. When I saw the empty bottle of wine, I thought she might have alcohol poisoning, but preliminary reports indicate she only had a blood alcohol level of .15, which is not lethal by itself. I’m waiting to hear from the medical examiner on a more detailed tox screen. Now, your turn.”

  “Wait—it wasn’t a homicide?”

  “I told you that we don’t know yet,” Brad said. “Now, talk.”

  “Okay. Lacey Wilson has called me several times over the years.”

  “What did you talk about?” Brad took out a notepad.

  “Mostly about Lacey and how she missed Steph. She didn’t call that often.” Andi placed her fork on the empty plate, and Treece whisked it away.

  “When was the last time you talked with her?” Brad asked.

  “This morning. She wanted me to meet her at the airport tonight at six, and I drove there in a blinding rain, but she never showed.”

  Will leaned forward. “You’re the one she was meeting? Why? And why wait until tonight? Why not earlier?”

  “She planned to go to Riverbend.”

  “Riverbend Maximum Security Prison?” Will asked. That’s where his cousin was incarcerated. Why would Lacey be going there?

  “I don’t know. She wouldn’t discuss it over the phone, said something about her phone being tapped. Said she’d tell me everything when we met.” Andi’s eyes widened, and she put her hand to her mouth. “The SUV at the airport.”

 

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