Justice Delayed

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Justice Delayed Page 6

by Patricia Bradley


  He leaned back in his chair. “There’s not much anyone can do in a case like this.” Jimmy Shelton would have been executed years ago, except for the automatic appeal process.

  “But he didn’t do it.”

  “The victim had a restraining order—your son wasn’t even supposed to be at her house.”

  Her body sagged like an inflatable toy that had lost its air. Then, she took a breath and straightened her shoulders. “That girl was doing something she shouldn’t have been. Drugs . . . something, and she was afraid Jimmy would find out.”

  Mrs. Shelton was grasping at the wind. Trouble was, he knew how she felt. He’d grasped at the wind often enough trying to discover who killed his wife. “It wasn’t drugs. None were found in her body, and the home was clean. Not even marijuana.”

  He held the gaze she pinned him with, then with a sigh, she stood. “I won’t take any more of your time, Lieutenant.”

  His heart broke for her. He’d heard the ban on executions had been lifted, and no mother ever got ready for a child’s death. He scrambled to his feet and walked around his desk.

  “I wish I could help you,” he said, taking her papery, dry hand. Though the woman was probably only in her late sixties, she appeared as old and frail as his ninety-two-year-old grandmother. “I promise you, if any new evidence surfaces that points to your son’s innocence, I’ll reopen the case.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Thank you, but you better hurry.”

  After Mrs. Shelton left, he picked up the folder he’d laid down. He wished he could help her, but . . . maybe he’d discuss it with Will.

  It didn’t take Will half an hour to clear out his desk and set up the one in the room next to David. He grabbed a cup of coffee and hurried to the briefing room in case his boss had returned.

  Even though the room was empty, Will took a seat at the table. Judging by all the folders spread on the table, David had been here. If it weren’t for this thing with Jimmy, he’d be pinching himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He’d slept little all night, and what should have been an exciting day now took second place. “I didn’t kill Stephanie.”

  Jimmy’s words echoed even now through his mind. If Walter Simmons hadn’t confirmed the letter, Will didn’t know if he would have believed his cousin. His whole body itched to get to Riverbend to talk to Jimmy. He hoped David would be receptive to looking into the case.

  The door opened, and Reggie Lane said, “Brad said I’d find you here. He told me about the break-in at his sister’s. He said Treece was okay. Do you think she’ll be safe there?”

  “Brad’s contacting someone today about a security system, so she should be. Why don’t you call her?”

  A dark blush crawled up Reggie’s face as he stepped into the room and closed the door. “She won’t take my calls.”

  “Sorry, man.” A month ago, Treece and Reggie had been on track to get married, and Will didn’t know what had happened to derail everything. “What happened with you two, anyway?”

  He ducked his head. “I gave her an ultimatum. Quit her job when we get married.”

  Will sucked air through his teeth. “I thought you knew better than to ever give a woman that kind of ultimatum.”

  “I do.” Reggie scrubbed his jaw. “It just came out of my mouth right after Andi got herself roughed up interviewing that dope dealer. Treece was in full mother-hen mode. Those two are tight. Treece thinks she has to watch over Andi.”

  Will knew the feeling. “I hope you two work this out.”

  “Me too. I’m sending her flowers again this afternoon with another apology. But as long as she thinks she has to look after Andi, we’ll have trouble. If only there was someone else watching Andi’s back, Treece might listen to me.” Reggie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re sweet on her—why don’t you do it?”

  Will held up his hand. “No way. That would be a full-time job.” Heat burned his neck. “And I’m not sweet on her.”

  “You’re lying, man. I’ve seen the way you look when she stops by to see Brad. And now—your face is beet red.”

  Will laughed out loud. “Whatever, man. Brad’s my best friend, and you know my history with women. Dating his sister would be a disaster, especially when we broke up—it always happens. Besides, it’d take someone a whole lot stronger than I am to convince her to quit sticking her neck out.”

  The door opened again, and David stepped inside. “Oh good, you’re here. Morning, Reggie.”

  “Morning, sir. I’m just leaving,” Reggie said. He stopped at the door. “Think about what I said.”

  “Don’t you have work to do?” Will called after Reggie and then turned his attention to the lieutenant as he sat at the table and snapped open his briefcase. Time to focus.

  “We won’t meet here regularly,” David said, “only when we need more room to work on a case, and you can choose your first one from the stacks of folders in the storage room. Unfortunately, you have plenty to choose from.”

  “Which ones are top priority?”

  “All of them. Families want answers, and so do we. It’s one reason I chose you. That and because of your extraordinary ability to sort out facts and get answers.”

  Will’s face grew hot under the praise. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

  “That’s why I’m not going to tell you how to investigate your case. Once you choose a case, I do suggest that you take a look at the original investigating officer.” David leaned back in his chair. “We’ve all known investigators who don’t follow up on clues like they should.”

  “Lazy ones,” Will said. He’d known a few of the detectives the lieutenant referred to.

  “That’s about it for orientation. Any questions?” David looked expectantly at him.

  “Sir, what if a case isn’t officially a cold case?”

  “Sir? I thought we covered that.”

  “Sorry—it’ll take awhile.”

  David nodded. “Now, what were you asking?”

  Will explained about Lacey Wilson’s death and the call from Jimmy and how she was going to visit his cousin at Riverbend. “Like I said earlier, the Wilson case isn’t really mine, and my cousin’s case isn’t officially a cold case, but if it’s true he didn’t kill Stephanie Hollister, there’s not much time to find the person who did. His execution date is in four days.”

  David rubbed his jaw. “Actually, that’s the case I wanted to discuss with you. Your aunt came to see me right after you left earlier. She—”

  “Excuse me for interrupting, but did you say my aunt came to see you?” Aunt Mae never mentioned stopping in to see David when she called while he was getting coffee. Maybe because she’d been so busy telling him his mother was back in town and wanted to see him. That wasn’t happening. “What did she want?”

  “To tell me I made a smart choice picking you,” he said.

  Will felt his face grow hot again. “I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for. Your aunt seems like a fine Southern lady. She asked if you could investigate the case. She believes her son was framed.”

  “I agree with her, especially after the letter Jimmy received. I’d like to look into the matter.”

  “I told her if anything turned up, I’d investigate.” David braced his hand on the table and stood. “So, let’s check it out.”

  “Thank you.” He caught himself before he said sir. “Since you’ve okayed it, I’m going to the prison to take a look at the letter and see what Jimmy knows about Lacey Wilson. Would you be interested in going with me?”

  David shook his head. “Wish I could, but I have a meeting with the police director. But keep me in the loop.”

  Will assured him he would. Once he stepped out into the hallway, he called the prison to let them know he was coming to see Jimmy around one, and would they please let him know.

  Then he dialed Brad. “Raines said I could investigate the letter Jimmy received,” he said when Brad answered. “Want to ride along?”

  “I wish I could, bu
t I’m on my way to court to testify in a murder case.”

  Court cases were the bane of a policeman’s life. Will didn’t look forward to the drive to Nashville with nothing but his thoughts . . . that were sure to include his mother.

  “Don’t you think you’re wasting your time?”

  It was plain that was what his friend thought. They needed to talk about this case in depth, but not over the phone. “All I want is justice. And to make sure that no one gets away with murder,” he said. “Besides, Jimmy is my cousin, and if there’s any possibility he’s innocent . . . well, if he is innocent, don’t you want to know?”

  Seconds ticked off. “Yeah. That’s what I want too. Text me as soon as you see that letter.”

  “I will.” He and Brad were like brothers, and Will hoped reopening his sister’s case wouldn’t put a strain on their friendship.

  7

  ON THE ELEVATOR RIDE to the first floor of the Criminal Justice Center, Will’s heart skipped a beat. He’d promised he’d let Andi know what David said about reopening the case. But that could wait until he returned.

  If she knew he was definitely going to Nashville, it would be next to impossible to keep her from accompanying him. And a three-hour trip alone with Andi Hollister was the last thing he needed. He didn’t know when or how it had happened, but his feelings for his best friend’s sister had changed. And he didn’t know what to do about it.

  If he acted on his feelings and she didn’t reciprocate . . . or what if she did? Will’s history with women was legendary among the cops he worked with—two dates and the relationship was over, usually because the chemistry just wasn’t there. Brad knew all this, and he wouldn’t want Andi’s heart broken.

  Will wasn’t about to add that strain to his friendship with Brad. The elevator opened on the first floor, and he strode to the front door. But who said Andi would even date him?

  Just as he walked out of the brick building into the cold bright morning, a microphone appeared out of nowhere. “Sergeant Kincade, what can you tell us about the death of Lacey Wilson? Is it true she had information pertaining to a case from eighteen years ago?”

  He blinked in the sunlight and stepped back. Andi, dressed in a soft pink sweater that belied her aggressive questions, waited for an answer. And even though her ambush irritated him, he couldn’t keep his heart from flopping around in his chest at the sight of her.

  “No comment,” he said and tried to walk away, but Andi and her cameraman kept up with him. He wheeled around. “Turn that off,” he said, pointing to the camera. After this, no way was he taking her to the prison where Jimmy was housed.

  Andi nodded to the guy behind the camera. “That’s okay, Chris. Let me wrap the segment, then you can pack up your equipment and head back to the station.”

  She looked into the camera. “As you can see, Sergeant Kincade prefers not to discuss the case. But we’ll be here when he does. This is Andi Hollister reporting from the Criminal Justice Center for WLTZ News.”

  When Chris lowered his camera, she said, “At least we got a ‘no comment’ this time.”

  Will had kept walking, but he stopped and turned around. “Brad wouldn’t even give you a ‘no comment’?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Have you talked to him?”

  “Not about you. I just know him. If you attacked him like you did me . . .” He shrugged, then turned and walked toward the crosswalk to the parking garage where he’d left his car. It was impossible to ignore her as she ran to catch him.

  “Are you going to the prison to see your cousin?”

  He kept walking, and she caught up with him at the light. For a second, he thought about jaywalking. “I am.”

  “I want to go with you.”

  “Nope. Don’t need a reporter tagging along.”

  “Come on, Will. I don’t believe there’s any letter, and if there is, it’s probably a fake. But I want to see for myself.”

  “Don’t you have a newscast to do?”

  “Nope. I’m not the anchor, and until Lacey’s death is ruled a homicide, I don’t have anything to report.”

  Part of him wanted to relent. The drive to Nashville on I-40 was boring, something Andi was not. He wavered, remembering the thirteen-year-old Andi the night her sister was murdered. Pale with a blue tinge to her lips and fingernails, tears spilling from her huge brown eyes.

  “All right,” he said, huffing the words out. “But anything we talk about has to be off the record.”

  “No problem. I promise.”

  She held his gaze with those incredible eyes as a puff of April wind brought the fragrance of her jasmine perfume. He swallowed hard. “My car is in the garage. Yours?”

  Her lip twitched. “I rode with my cameraman.”

  He turned without answering and strode inside the garage to his Ford Escape.

  Andi glanced in the side mirror, checking for a dark SUV with tinted windows. None that she could see. She turned to Will, who was drumming the steering wheel. “Any leads on the man who broke in to my apartment?”

  His fingers stilled. “No. None of your neighbors saw anything. You and Treece really need to leave your outside lights on.”

  “Believe me, we will,” she said. The skin on her neck tingled, and she pulled the sun visor down, checking the traffic in the mirror again. “Can you tell if anyone is following us?”

  “Haven’t seen anyone suspicious, and I’ve been watching.”

  “Do you think it was a mistake? That he broke into the wrong house?”

  He glanced over at her. “What do you think?”

  “It’s what I want to believe.” Andi glanced in the side mirror again. “But he was so insistent that I had his diamonds.”

  Anxiety squeezed her chest, and she sucked in a deep breath. She had to refocus. Fear would only freeze her mind, and she didn’t have time for that. Right now, she was safe with Will.

  Refocus. Relax.

  An incoming text dinged, and she read it. So much for getting her mind off the break-in. “Brad says the security system is in place, and that it’s hooked in to the police station.”

  “Good. That relieves my mind.”

  “Mine too.” Gingerly, she smoothed her hair over the stitches in her head, remembering the wave of fear that had washed over her when she woke this morning. Maybe she needed to talk about her feelings a little. “I didn’t know what a number someone breaking in to your house could do to you.”

  “Violated is how I’ve heard victims describe their feelings.”

  “Yes! That’s exactly it.” It’d been the same when Stephanie was killed, only worse, and in two hours she would be confronting the man convicted of killing her sister. Her thoughts jumped on another merry-go-round.

  What if Jimmy didn’t kill Steph? She shook that question off. He killed her. Why else would he confess?

  But what if he hadn’t? It would mean Steph’s murderer was running around free while an innocent man faced death. Her heart raced at the questions that wouldn’t go away. It was why she was in a car with Will Kincade driving down I-40 to Nashville. “Do you think the letter is legitimate?”

  Her words sounded loud in the car, and Will jumped. “Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “You didn’t. I was thinking about something else, that’s all, and you jumped subjects. You have a habit of doing that, you know. But to answer your question, I don’t know.”

  What could he have been thinking about? Maybe his last girlfriend? Brad had mentioned at dinner a couple of weeks ago that Will was seeing some secretary. “Having trouble with your latest conquest?”

  “What?” He shot a quick look at her.

  Heat flushed her face. What a dumb thing to say. “Never mind.”

  “If you must know, my mother is back in town.”

  “Oh. Are you going to see her?” Andi didn’t know why she was glad he wasn’t thinking about a girlfriend.

  “No. Cass won’t be here long. Never is. Unless
her last husband dumped her, then she might stay a month.” His jaw tightened. “If you don’t mind, let’s talk about something else.”

  “Sure.” She didn’t know the whole story behind Will living with his aunt and uncle instead of his mother when he was growing up. But it must be bad for him to always call her Cass, never Mother or Mom.

  She searched for something to say, but her mind blanked. Jimmy. They could talk about him. “Let’s suppose this letter your cousin received is real—not that I think it is, but just suppose. Why do you think he confessed to a crime he didn’t commit?”

  This time Will laughed out loud. “That’s the third time you’ve switched subjects in five minutes.”

  “Well, at least I got a laugh out of you.”

  “Yeah. Jimmy,” he said. “Are we still on that subject?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did he confess?” Will sucked in a deep breath. “Eighteen years ago, Jimmy had a bad alcohol problem. So bad that even though he was crazy-drunk when they arrested him, he was still on his feet—his body had built up a tolerance to high levels of alcohol. I went with my aunt to see him in jail after they arrested him, and he never remembered us being there. I don’t think there’s anything he actually remembers about that night.”

  She wished she didn’t. “Mom and I had gone to tell Stephanie that the doctor had agreed to waive his fee for my surgery.”

  Her sister had been so worried that without insurance, Andi might not get the heart operation she needed. She turned and stared out the window at the newly leafed trees whizzing by. A warm March had given them an early start on spring. The dogwoods and wild plum trees were in full bloom against a backdrop of every shade of green from chartreuse to deep green. She chewed on her bottom lip. A freeze was predicted for tonight. Tomorrow all the blooms would be dirty brown.

  JD flipped through the small black notebook once more and placed it on the padded yellow envelope he’d taken it from. He’d coaxed Lacey into telling him that she’d found the journal after Stephanie died. She was packing up her stuff to move out of the house, found the journal, and kept it. But there were at least five pages of Stephanie’s journal missing. Where could Lacey have hidden them? What if she’d mailed them to someone?

 

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