Found Innocent

by Carolyn Arnold

  Mark Andrews was a member of the forensics team who specialized in trace evidence.

  “They were under the mattress in the second bedroom. The prescription reads for Lacy Rose.”

  Madison read the prescription. It had been filled by Dixie’s Pharmacy, the same one they had visited earlier in the day.

  “Guess that gives us the evidence we were looking for. Lacy was here. This should also give us enough for a warrant so we can find out the name of the healthcare provider,” Madison said walking toward the kitchen. Terry came with her. “And from there we can track the policy to its holder.”

  Terry nodded. “Tomorrow.”

  She glanced at the clock on the stove. 11:55 PM.

  “Yes, tomorrow, Terry.”

  “And don’t forget I’ll be catching up with you a little later tomorrow. I’ve got the—”

  “Yes, the appointment with the doctor, with Annabelle.” She smiled.

  “All right then. I’ll catch up with you in the morning. Probably about eleven or so.”

  “Sure.”

  Mark walked by and Terry handed the evidence bag back to him.

  “Tomorrow then.” Terry turned to leave.

  “Terry,” Madison called out to him.

  He turned around. “Yeah.”

  “Hope everything goes good. Let me know what you find out.”

  Terry smiled. “Will do.”

  With him gone, somehow the apartment felt empty. It was as if she could hear her thoughts clearer, despite all the activity with Crime Scene eagerly working their way around.

  MADISON LEFT THE CONDO BUILDING and headed home. The thought of touching her fingers to Hershey’s soft ears made the day melt away. Dare she even admit that Terry had a point when it came to dogs? They not only had a way of loving unconditionally, but they also had a healing capability.

  She leashed Hershey and took him outside. The air was chilly, but the harshness of it had lessened from prior weeks. The hint of spring was carried in the air.

  As she waited for her canine companion, she remembered when she had come home late one night to find Blake waiting there for her. There was no chance that would be happening again, and, really, it was for the best. They were on different paths in life—parallel lines that would never meet.

  Hershey did his business then sat at her feet.

  “Come on, buddy.” She tapped her thighs excitedly. “It’s time to go to bed.”

  When she had arrived home, the time in the car had read shortly after two in the morning. It must have been creeping closer to three at this point. Her body sagged from exhaustion, but her mind kept firing scenarios in the case.

  There were a few people who could have wanted Lacy Rose to die, but they were all hinged on suspicion at this point, with nothing solid to convict any of them. She had to will her brain to sleep. Morning was technically already here.

  -

  Chapter 14

  “YOU’RE WANTING A WARRANT ISSUED in regards to the allergy medication?” Sergeant Winston sat behind his desk, fortressed behind mounds of paperwork that never seemed to shrink, but instead only grew.

  “Yes, for the purpose of tracing back to the Medicare provider and the policyholder.” Madison was used to defending everything she did. She tagged it on being a woman in a career field dominated by men. Men were always right, even when they were wrong. At least that was the theory they subscribed to.

  “She had a wealthy male friend from the north end who’d set her up in a luxury condo and took care of her. He was working on getting her a real job. Again, this is only what we know so far. What Hargrove has told us—”

  “You don’t believe he’s telling you the truth?”

  “I don’t believe anyone. I’ve seen too much.” The confession took her breath. She couldn’t connect eyes with her superior. “I get the job done.” She shifted in her seat and made herself look at him. “I subscribe to guilty until proven innocent.”

  The Sergeant had his eyes trained on her. She swore she saw a spark in them, a flicker of pride in his detective.

  “And you think Medicare will lead back to this man,” Winston rolled his hand, “from the north end.”

  “Yes, I do. And if it does—”

  “If it does, how much further ahead are we? You already know the man takes care of her. What’s his motivation? Tap into that.”

  Madison exhaled. “If we can prove that he set her up with health care and a doctor to prescribe medication, we have cause to seriously question his relationship with Lacy. Right now it’s his word against our suspicions.”

  Winston seemed to consider what she had said as he studied her eyes, yet he didn’t say anything for seconds. He picked up about an inch of paper from the stack on his left and put it in front of him. His pen was poised over the sheet. “Okay, we’ll get your warrant in the works, but may I also remind you that you have two other suspects behind bars already.”

  “Really only one. The girl was let go. Hennessey’s being booked for drug possession. The truth of the matter is, from my standpoint, not only am I doing my job in trying to solve a murder, but I took a drug addict off the street, possibly a dealer.” She noticed the corner of his mouth begin to lift. “Maybe I should look into a transfer.” She smiled at her superior.

  “Don’t get all cocky on me, Knight. There’s no room for an ego in the equation.”

  She winked at him as she rose to her feet. The occasions were few when they got along.

  “Where is Terry this morning?” Winston asked.

  “At the doctor’s with his wife.”

  “His baby all right?”

  “As far as I know. They’re finding out its sex.” She pushed the chair she had been in closer to the Sergeant’s desk.

  She had made it to the door before he asked, “When are you having kids, Knight?”

  She kept walking, trying not to choke when she swallowed. Somehow, whenever she had a glimmer that she had gained his respect, it was inevitably followed by a backward landslide.

  -

  Chapter 15

  SHE OPENED THE MORGUE DOORS. Cole Richards stood over the body of Lacy Rose. He held the woman’s heart in his hand. He put it on the scale and noticed Madison at the same time.

  Madison’s earlier coffee came up the back of her throat.

  “The victim’s heart weighs eight-point-five ounces,” Richards said, not for her, but for the recording device on a side table. He gave her a look that said, I’ll be with you shortly.

  “The time is seven of ten on Tuesday morning. Taking a pause from the autopsy now.” He pulled his gloves off, paused the recorder, and looked up at her. “Something I can do for you?”

  “Have anything for me?” She smiled, hoping it would melt his mood and work to dislodge the growing heave in her throat. It failed on both counts. Most wouldn’t understand her distaste for the sight of blood, and she wasn’t going to volunteer her aversion to it.

  “I always tell you when I do.” He clasped his hands in front of his bloodstained smock.

  “I know you do.” Madison took a step toward the body, but her legs weakened and planted her feet to the floor four feet away.

  The blood.

  “First, the easy news. Blood genotyping that Cynthia collected from the bedroom was a match to the victim and confirmed the bedroom as the scene of the crime. Now, onto the cause of death. Preliminary COD was damage to the frontal and parietal lobe. In layman’s terms, a bullet to the brain.” He pointed toward the dissected brain matter and to the small bottle that held bullet fragments. “As for her condition at the time of death and her drug abuse history, appropriate samples will be sent to the lab for a full tox panel.”

  “A person who knew Lacy said that she was turning her life around. The tox panel should also tell us how long she used, and the last time.”

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sp; Richards nodded. “Yes, it should at least provide us with an approximate picture.” His eyes went to the table, to the body, and his interrupted autopsy.

  Madison’s eyes were on the multiple bottles and items pulled for the forensic lab.

  Richards walked around the body to Madison. “I pulled trace from her nails, and her hands were tested for gunshot residue and came back positive. I believe I told you that latter part at the crime scene.” He glanced at the body. “The strange part about all of this is it looks like a suicide, in that she pulled the trigger. I did pull trace of GSR on her hands, and the angle on her broken teeth seems to indicate this. Besides the fact she couldn’t bury herself, we can’t dismiss the struggle she had with someone prior to her death.” He pointed to her scraped knuckles.

  Madison took a deep breath, and with the inhale came the potent scent of death—blood, tissue, and decomp. She swallowed hard. “The boyfriend had a history of beating up on her, although no charges were filed. Higgins told me he saw the girl when she was alive—beaten up, but alive. She never wanted to press charges, so, besides a record of calls taking them to the area, and officer’s notes, nothing else substantiates that. We have to figure out if the defensive wounds were from that abuse or related to her death.”

  “A sad fact when it comes to the victims of domestic abuse—very rarely do they fight back. They may hold up a hand or arm instinctively, to block blows, but one is usually too beaten down mentally to fight back physically. They don’t believe they are worth defending.”

  “Very good point.” Madison couldn’t believe she had missed thinking that. It would coincide with what Hargrove told them about Lacy trying to get her life together, about Kendal’s claim she wanted to be found innocent. “She didn’t want to die.”

  Richards slowly shook his head. “It doesn’t seem that way to me. Now, you know I don’t like to speculate, but I think she was coerced into pulling the trigger, or someone made it look like she did.”

  “You are talking possibilities?” Madison asked.

  Richards’s dark skin pinched around his eyes. “I’m trying to play along today. I see you’re down your partner.”

  Madison smiled at him. Her relationship with Richards would return to the way it was before the last case before she took things too far and pried into his personal history.

  “He’s off finding out the sex of his baby.”

  “Well, good for him.”

  Richards was a married man. He and his wife never had children, but it wasn’t for the lack of trying.

  An awkward type of silence filled the space. If Lacy couldn’t control her life, maybe she thought she’d take the power over how she’d exit. Or maybe it was as Richards had suggested, someone made it look like she had pulled the trigger.

  “What would make Lacy shoot herself? Did someone threaten to kill her if she didn’t kill herself?”

  “Now that is a question worth asking.”

  Her cell rang and she answered. “Knight… Okay, I’ll be right up.” She hung up and looked at Richards. “I’ll let you get back to her.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled at her, close to showcasing his white teeth, but not quite.

  -

  Chapter 16

  “RANSON.” Madison addressed the female officer at the front desk. Today her hair was brown with blonde highlights—she had a thing for experimenting with hair dye. Ranson had been the one to call her when she was in the morgue with Richards. She told her a young lady was here looking for Hennessey.

  “She’s over there,” Ranson said.

  Madison peeked around the corner to see a Hispanic woman sitting on the bench. She sat bent forward, doubled in half, her fingers laced through her shoulder-length dark hair.

  “Did she give you a name?”

  Ranson shook her head. “She said she needed Hennessey now.”

  “Her dealer.” Madison tapped the counter and headed to the young woman. “You’re looking for Hennessey?”

  No response.

  Madison got closer to her. “Hennessey?”

  Slowly, the girl siphoned her fingers from her hair and then straightened up to look at Madison. Her eyes were half-mast and vacant. Her gaze went to Madison.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Detective Knight. Why are you looking for Hennessey?”

  “He’s my man. I heard he was here.”

  “You heard correctly.”

  “I need to see him.” Her eyes were still on Madison, but her focus seemed to trail behind.

  “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”

  The girl let out a loud sigh. “I need Henn-e-ssey.” She dragged the name out.

  “I’ll take you to him after we talk.”

  “Whatev’.”

  Madison directed her to interrogation room three, where she had the girl sit across from her. “First off, what is your name?”

  The girl leaned on the table with her elbows bent, her fingers fanning through her hair again. She stared at the tips of her hair. “Why do you need to know?”

  “You want to see Hennessey, you start talking to me.”

  A dramatic deep exhale. “Sahara Noel.”

  “Very pretty name.”

  Sahara’s eyes connected with Madison’s. “He used to call me Christmas Morning.”

  “Used to?”

  Sahara snorted. “Yeah.”

  “But he doesn’t anymore.” Madison pushed her.

  “That’s what I said bit—” She stopped there. She must have received the message in Madison’s eyes.

  “When did he stop?”

  “When he met her.” Her words were slurred.

  “Met her, who?”

  Defiance sparked in her eyes. “Lacy.”

  “You didn’t like her.”

  “I had no reason to like her.”

  “So you hated her? She stole your man.”

  “It’s not like that, it’s—”

  “Just what?” Madison tapped the table to realign Sahara’s focus.

  “Okay, yes I hated her! I found him fucking her like a dog on the damn couch.” Instead of tears of heartbreak, anger and hatred marred her expression.

  Madison pulled back and studied the girl in front of her. Would she be capable of forcing Lacy to pull the trigger on herself?

  “Can I see him now?”

  Madison played the power of silence. She heard Sahara’s foot tap off at least thirty of them.

  “I need to see him.” Sahara wrapped her arms around herself as tremors shook her body.

  “Here’s the thing, Lacy’s dead.”

  Sahara’s eyes shot upward from the table she had become focused on. “I didn’t—”

  “You hated her. You said that.”

  “It doesn’t mean I—”

  “She was found buried in Hennessey’s backyard. Did you have access to his apartment?”

  “I…no…yes…”

  “Which is it? You said you found them on the couch. You got in somehow.”

  “Yes.”

  “You had a reason to want her gone. She came in, took your man. Christmas Morning was over.”

  Sahara ran the back of a hand under her nose. Tears fell now, but Madison sensed they were out of self-preservation, not remorse or grief.

  “Why did you do it? Did you make her kill herself?” Madison asked.

  “She killed herself?” Sahara straightened out.

  “Well, she had a bullet to the brain.”

  Sahara scrunched up her face.

  “She was found buried, and she didn’t put herself in the ground.”

  “But you can’t prove anyone made her do it…pull the trigger.”

  Sahara had stated the plain truth—this would be a difficult case to close unless they could prove it was a staged
suicide. “How was your relationship with Hennessey? Did he beat you?”

  Silence.

  “We know that he beat Lacy.”

  “Whatev’.”

  “But he never beat you?” Madison rose to her feet and paced around the table. “I find that hard to believe. Normally if a guy is a beater, he doesn’t change. The truth is, if he beat Lacy, he likely beat you.”

  Sahara didn’t follow Madison’s movements around the room, but instead, kept facing forward.

  “If you and Hennessey went separate ways, why are you here to see him?” Madison moved beside Sahara, close enough to smell her pharmacy store perfume—strongly floral with a metallic edge.

  “He’s still good to me.”

  Her voice wavered, and Madison picked up on an underlying connotation. “How long has he been pimping you out?”

  Sahara faced Madison.

  “That’s why you’re here. You have nowhere else to go. He hooked you on drugs, and you’re one of his girls now. One of many.”

  Sahara spit. Madison moved out of the way just in time.

  “Stand up!”

  “I’m sor—”

  “Stand up! Hands behind your back.”

  “No, please.”

  Madison grabbed the girl’s shoulder and pulled her upward.

  “I want to see Hennessey.”

  “You might get a cell right next to him.” Madison snapped cuffs on her.

  “No!”

  “You assaulted an officer. You gave me enough reason to hold you.”

  -

  Chapter 17

  MADISON WAS AT HER DESK, her mind full of thoughts. Hennessey was not only an abusive boyfriend, but he was also a pimp. He lured the girls in, got them addicted to drugs, and then started hooking them up with other men. He owned them, and when they diverted from his course, he beat them into alignment. Nothing new in the world, but nonetheless disturbing.

  Terry draped his coat over the back of his chair. “Did I miss anything?”

  Madison massaged her left temple. “You first. What is it?”

  Terry sat down across from her. “Don’t know.” The two words came out as a deflated balloon.