Found Innocent

by Carolyn Arnold

  “No. It has nothing to do with Rebecca.” Hennessey straightened his posture. “I…we…didn’t kill her.”

  “What did Rebecca make you do then?” Madison studied his body language—the way his fingers tapped on the side of the chair, the way his eyes took in the room without focusing on anything in particular. “Rebecca says you two just met.”

  Hennessey didn’t say anything and avoided eye contact. Rebecca’s statement was fact. When he’d said, “She made me do it,” he was passing blame to Lacy.

  “So, let’s start with why you were at the apartment. It’s not yours,” Madison said.

  He kept looking at a place behind her and remained silent.

  “Can you explain what you were doing there?” Madison leaned across the table and laced her hands.

  Hennessey dragged a hand down his face. Silence.

  “The longer you screw us around, the longer you’ll be here.”

  He gave no visual acknowledgment that he had heard her.

  “When was the last time you saw Lacy Rose?” Five seconds of silence. Madison slapped the table. She raised her voice. “She was found in your backyard.”

  Terry walked over to Hennessey. “Answer the question. When?”

  “I…I don’t know. A few weeks ago.” He looked between the two of them and his feet bounced under the table. The laces of his running shoes clicked against the floor.

  “When exactly?” Terry put a firm hand on Hennessey’s shoulder.

  He looked at Terry’s hand and then up to his face. Terry left his hand where it was positioned. Hennessey shifted. “Listen. I don’t know, all right.”

  “You beat up on her, didn’t you?”

  Hennessey looked up at Terry again, back to Madison. “There are no charges for that. Check my record.”

  “We have an officer who tells us he was out there a lot.”

  “Means nothing.”

  “Means nothing that a sworn officer of the law testifies to being out there? It means nothing that there is a record of the calls?” Madison pulled out the report from a file folder. “Shows about twice a week. The last time being ten weeks ago.”

  “Doesn’t mean anything.”

  Terry pulled back on Hennessey’s chair and got in front of him. “It means you beat on her. She was afraid to press charges—”

  “Did you shoot her to silence her? Stage it to look like she pulled the trigger on herself?”

  Sometimes it was necessary to volley a suspect back and forth to make progress. The evidence seemed to indicate that Lacy pulled the trigger on herself. But Madison hesitated to accept that, based on two facts—people had said she was turning her life around and, the glaring obvious, that she couldn’t have buried herself.

  “You guys are crazy.”

  “You don’t seem to understand what we’re saying here.” Madison stood. “We believe you’re responsible for her death.”

  Terry stayed within the boundaries of Hennessey’s personal space.

  His leg kept bouncing. “You can’t prove it.” He wiped down his face again.

  “How did you get the key to the condo?” Madison leaned farther forward. “You killed her, buried her and took it.”

  “No…no…Lacy and I would go there.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “It’s the truth. Swear.” Hennessey glanced up at Terry. “She liked the finer things. She said her daddy got the place to help set her right.”

  “Her daddy?”

  “Yeah, that’s what she said. I’m just telling you what she said.”

  “Lacy’s father wasn’t in her life.”

  Hennessey sank into his chair. “That’s what she said.”

  Madison knew Maurice Kendal had been telling the truth when he said he expelled Lacy from his life. It was clear in his eyes—the hatred for a young woman he never really got to know.

  “Did Lacy sleep with other men?”

  A steady pulse tapped in Hennessey’s cheek.

  “The condo was paid for by an older man, but it wasn’t Lacy’s father.” Madison poked at the underlying fire.

  His eyes went to hers.

  Madison cocked her head and spoke to Terry. “When she said Daddy maybe what she really meant was sugar daddy.”

  Hennessey sat straight, formed a fist with his right hand, and slammed it into his left palm.

  “You knew about him,” Madison said calmly.

  He sat staring at his fist. “I guessed. I mean, how else could she afford that place?”

  “And you killed her for it.” Madison pulled back in her seat. “You killed her because no one else was allowed to have her.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But it’s the truth, isn’t it? When did you find out she was sleeping, well, not really sleeping, but having sex, with another man?”

  Hennessey harbored a lot of pride; she would continue to beat him where it hurt—his ego. He glared at her.

  “Jealousy is one of the greatest motives for murder. There’s nothing new about it.” Madison addressed Terry again. “Not even original.”

  “I didn’t kill her.” He clenched his teeth.

  Madison rose to her feet and paced the room. As she neared Hennessey, Terry stepped back to make room for her. She leaned in next to Hennessey’s ear. “Where did you get the key?”

  He hit the table with his fists. “I told you we’d go there together—”

  “Lacy is dead. She didn’t let you in. In fact, I don’t think you were there together. She was trying to get away from you. I’ll ask the question again—where did you get the key?”

  Anger tapped in his cheeks, and he clenched his fists.

  Madison continued to speak in his ear. “You stole it from her purse. You took her clothes, her jewelry—” Madison thought back on the chain Peter had said he’d given her. “You sold them for drug money. You killed Lacy and then profited from her death.” She was close enough to Hennessey she felt her warm breath swirl back at her.

  Hennessey’s hands stopped moving and he slowly turned to face her. Their noses were less than an inch apart. “Prove it.”

  She made sure to look him in the eyes. “Don’t worry, we will.”

  Hennessey’s fists continued to pump, but he diverted his gaze from her and faced forward. “Am I free to go now?”

  Madison straightened out, laughed, and addressed Terry. “He thinks he’s free to go.”

  Terry smirked.

  “Are you for real? You were in possession of cocaine—”

  “It’s not my apartment—”

  Madison studied his face, picking up on the contradiction in his words. “You can’t have it both ways. First Lacy basically told you it was also your apartment, and now it’s not yours. Which is it?”

  Hennessey slammed his fist onto the table.

  She had him. Now she needed the solid evidence to place him behind bars for what happened to Lacy.

  “And you must be forgetting we took two ounces off your person. Let’s just put it this way, you won’t be going anywhere for a while.” Madison opened the door and Alex Commons from narcotics walked in.

  “What? Who is—” Hennessey stood to his feet and made an effort to leave. Terry pinned him against the back wall. The narcotics detective put cuffs on him.

  “You have the right to remain silent,” the detective began.

  Madison and Terry left the room.

  “Do you think he did it?” Terry asked the question and stood to one side of the open door.

  “I think we got lucky we can hold him for something else. It also gives us room to deal.”

  “What? Take a murder charge to lessen a drug one?”

  Madison smiled at Terry. “As you said, the guy isn’t very bright.”

  -

&nb
sp; Chapter 12

  REBECCA SAT IN INTERROGATION ROOM TWO. She had her arms wrapped around herself and rocked back and forth. She straightened when Madison and Terry entered the room.

  “We have some questions for you.” Madison slid a file folder on the table as she took a seat. Terry braced against a side wall.

  Rebecca nodded and as the fluorescent lights hit her cheeks, it became obvious they were damp from crying.

  “You said you just met Ralph?”

  “Yes.” She bobbed her head as if it would add proof to her verbal answer.

  “Where did you meet?”

  Her eyes went between them. “At a club on Forty-Six. He came up to me.”

  “You normally get together with guys you just met?”

  Rebecca’s eyes went downward. There was more hidden there than a rendezvous.

  “Why did you arrange to meet Ralph Hennessey?” Madison asked even though she was aware of the likely answer.

  Her voice seemed shrunken. “For sex.”

  “The way your eyes divert and the way your tone lowered tell me there’s more to it.”

  “I’m not lying to you!” She shifted her position and clasped her hands, letting them rest on the table.

  It was with this movement Madison noticed a silver chain around her neck. The base of it was hidden under the collar of the sweater she wore. She did her best to look at the young girl’s chest area without being obvious.

  Madison relaxed her posture and settled into her chair despite her obsession over the necklace. She decided she would play this straightforward.

  “The main purpose was to score cocaine wasn’t it?”

  Rebecca fidgeted. The necklace moved with apparent weight, like that caused by a pendant. With Rebecca sitting the way she was now, Madison could make out a small indent under her sweater.

  “I want a lawyer.”

  It was the meekest demand for legal representation Madison had ever heard. Rebecca was new to the game—her young face not even etched with the hardness of the lifestyle.

  “We’ll get you a lawyer.” Terry headed to the door while Madison stayed seated.

  The girl had requested a lawyer when it came to the drug allegations.

  Madison leaned across the table. “Nice necklace.”

  The girl’s brows tightened with confusion before her fingers went to it. She pulled the necklace up and the pendant was exposed. Rebecca seemed to admire the silver whale before looking up at Madison. “Thank you.”

  Madison had her answer—this hadn’t been Lacy’s necklace. She went straight to the point. “Hennessey is being investigated for the murder and burial of a young woman.”

  Rebecca gasped. “Oh my God! I never should have…oh my God!”

  “Now, you say you just met him, but you can probably see why we want to make sure you’re telling us the truth.”

  A slow nod as she pinched the pendant in her fingers.

  Madison placed a photo of Lacy Rose on the table. “Did you know this girl?”

  Rebecca picked it up and looked at it.

  “I don’t. I’m sorry.”

  TERRY LAUGHED OUTSIDE THE INTERROGATION ROOM. “You really thought it would be that easy?”

  He must have known what she was getting at with the necklace and the pendant. Instead of a whale, she was hoping that a small silver heart would emerge from the sweater collar. “Hey, sometimes we get lucky.”

  “We do? Name once.”

  His direct inquiry caused her mind to go vacant. “Okay, nothing’s coming to mind.”

  “That’s because there’s nothing to come to m—”

  “Hey watch it.” She smiled at him.

  -

  Chapter 13

  MADISON AND TERRY MADE THEIR way through the lobby of the Luxor apartment complex. The man at the front desk was the same one as earlier in the evening. His jaw tightened at the sight of them. He was probably the one facing all the questions from management about what was going on.

  An officer stood outside of Lacy’s apartment with a hand above his holster, giving the impression he stood vigil, but his eyes gave him away.

  It was only ten at night—the new recruit would never make it if he didn’t learn how to function without sleep. Madison should know.

  Madison found Cynthia processing the bedroom. Terry went off in another direction.

  “Find anything?” Madison asked.

  Cynthia looked up from where she was hunched at the closet doors dusting for prints. “You mean besides the few ounces of cocaine?”

  Madison nodded.

  “Not much.”

  Madison moved closer to the closet and noticed it was empty. The thieving, murderous bastard sold pretty much everything.

  “No clothes that belong to a woman?”

  Cynthia shook her head as she lifted a print, sealed it for evidence, and rose to her feet. “If our vic ever lived here, there’s not much sign of it.”

  Madison’s mind fixed on Cynthia’s words. “You said that there was ‘not much sign of it.’ Is there something to prove a woman lived here?”

  “There was a tube of lipstick in the bathroom medicine cabinet and did you see the artwork? My guess is it’s a woman’s taste. Now whether that woman was our vic—”

  “Lacy Rose.” Madison had let the first generic reference go.

  Cynthia let out an exhale. Madison knew what her friend was thinking—she hated that Madison would get personal with the deceased at times, giving preference to referring to them by name rather than the label of victim. Madison wasn’t going to feel sorry for who she was.

  “You mentioned the artwork? Peter Hargrove likely would have picked it out for her or took her shopping with him,” Madison said.

  “Do you think he’s involved with her death?”

  “My main question is what makes a man do all this for a woman if he isn’t having sex with her? He would deserve the Good Samaritan of the Year Award. Maybe even of the century.”

  “The big word in there being if. These condos go for half a mil each. What would make someone do that for a girl he just met? And for nothing in exchange?” Disbelief danced in her friend’s eyes.

  “When Terry and I spoke to him he said he felt bad for her. She had reached out to her biological father and he had turned his back on her—”

  Peter had said he was a happily married man and would never touch the girl, yet Maurice Kendal had told him this is what you get when you sleep with ten-dollar whores. The two thoughts were contradictory. They needed to do more digging into Hargrove’s world.

  Then the revelation hit her.

  “Holy shit.”

  “Maddy?”

  “The man who set Lacy up in this apartment, Hargrove, told us that he only met her a few weeks ago.” She thought on that for a second. Did he say that, or was it inferred from the conversation with Kendal? She shook her head. “How is that possible when her time of death was pegged at a few weeks ago? If Kendal, her father of record, had his dates right that would mean Hargrove knew her before that. We need to figure out who had the most to lose—the boyfriend or her benefactor.” She looked at Cynthia. “We still need a motive for Hargrove and why he’d want Lacy dead, but he’s not off to a good start with misleading us.”

  “Might be a good question to ask—”

  “You’re taking over my turf now?” Preston Marsh, a narcotics detective, stood in the doorway. He was all of five-foot-five but housed a lot of power in his small frame. His chest and arm muscles tugged on his shirt. He had thick dark hair, a trimmed mustache that suited him, and an award-winning smile.

  “Hey, murder trumps drugs,” Madison said.

  “In your mind.” He smiled at her.

  “Well, if you had this city under control with the drugs, maybe we’d see fewer murders.” Madison raise
d her eyebrows at him.

  “Whenever you Major Crimes Detectives can pass the buck.” Marsh walked around to the end of the bed, moving closer to Madison.

  “You want to play this game? I specifically remember a case a few years back when—”

  “There’s no need to go there.”

  “Come on. Let’s.” Madison passed a glance to Cynthia. “They booked this guy for drug possession, but the chain of evidence was broken.”

  “Rookie. Don’t go there.” Marsh’s shoulders sagged. “Knight, I’m begging you.”

  “Anyway,” Madison picked up the story again, a smile tugging at her lips, “the charges didn’t stick, and the guy was back on the streets within twenty-four. He was picked up four hours later and charged with the attempted murder of a seventeen-year-old boy.”

  “Everything worked out in the end.”

  “Eventually, but it wasn’t because of the Narcotics Division. It was Major Crimes.”

  “Toot your own horn much.”

  “Hey, who would have thought that newbie would have amounted to anything? Yet here you are.”

  Marsh smiled at Madison. “Are you finished with story time?”

  “I’m sure I could pull out more.”

  Marsh held up a hand. “Save it for a drink with me sometime.”

  “We’ll see, big boy.” Madison smiled at him and went to look at Cynthia, but she had packed up and was headed out of the bedroom.

  Madison had gotten to know Marsh when a few cases intersected with narcotics. Marsh was easily five years younger and had the reputation of a being a lady’s man. What he lacked in height he made up for in charisma. Although, for Madison, there was never any real chemistry between them.

  “I heard you’re single,” he said.

  “Keep it in your pants, Rookie.”

  “Hey, I’m not a rookie anymore.”

  “That’s not what I hear.”

  “Ah, Knight. You can be cruel.”

  She smiled and turned her back on him then left the room. Terry nearly bumped into her.

  “Look what Mark found.” Terry held up a sealed evidence bag with a package of unopened allergy medication.