Melba and Charles Edmunds were shocked. Charles Edmunds was a prominent doctor in Paso Robles. His wife, Melba, was a homemaker. They had been having problems with Bart since he was about 14 years old. He had been drinking and doing drugs. It was finally decided when he turned 17, that he could move into an apartment on his own since he wasn’t getting along with either of his parents. His parents subsidized this move and had felt that Bart was becoming more responsible. He had gotten a job and was making some money of his own. He had been arrested when he was sixteen for public drunkenness and drug possession. He had a small quantity of marijuana on him when he was arrested. Since that time, he had stayed out of trouble.
The Edmunds’ hired a prominent attorney to represent their son. Victor Commons, had never handled a murder case, but told them that there was not enough evidence to hold their son. He didn’t think that they would get past the preliminary hearing. He was wrong. Andrew Small testified at the preliminary hearing that the bloody shoe prints at the scene matched those of the defendant. He also testified that the blood on the defendant’s shirt belonged to the victim. The judge held Barton Edmunds over for trial.
Since Edmunds was 17, Commons negotiated a deal to have him tried as a juvenile. The D.A. concurred and offered him a deal. The D.A. offered him five years in a juvenile detention facility in exchange for a guilty plea. Edmunds insisted that he didn’t commit the crime. His parents and his attorney believed him but plead with him to take the five years, since the alternative would be life in prison if he was convicted. Finally, Barton Edmunds agreed. He took the deal and was sent to two court appointed psychiatrists for evaluation.
The day that Barton Edmunds appeared before the judge to complete the plea agreement, the judge surprised them all. The psychiatrists had both determined that Barton Edmunds did not feel an adequate amount of remorse for his crimes. The judge rejected the plea agreement. In the end, the confession was used against him at his trial. The prosecution contended that Edmunds was there to steal money from the Davenports’ pot business. Andrew Small testified that there was one hundred and fifty dollars missing from the home. Singing Sammy also concurred with the confession that had been admitted into evidence. The jury convicted Barton Edmunds of all three murders and he was sentenced to three consecutive life prison terms.
Chapter 28
Edmunds’ parents continued to support their only child. The proper appeals were initiated and exhausted. Then, the parole hearings followed. Andrew Small appeared at the first hearing to testify. Under oath, he testified that he had found the hidden one hundred and fifty dollars in the attic of the home. He said that the new owners of the home had found the money and contacted him.
The parole board denied him. While Bart was in prison, both of his parents died. First, his father in 1995; then, his mother died in 2004. Edmunds was devastated by both of their deaths. His mother left him an estate of over three hundred thousand dollars. Edmunds used the money to hire a private detective to review the evidence in his case. That is where Jim Alberts came in. Jim was a burly guy. At 6’5 and 300 pounds, he was a giant of a man. He had dark curly hair and a beard and mustache. He was an ex-homicide detective with the Los Angeles Police Department. He met with Edmunds in prison and listened to his story. Alberts told Edmunds that he believed there were some inconsistencies and he would look into it. He also told him that if he determined Edmunds was guilty, he would let him rot in prison.
Jim Alberts expected to find a guilty man. After looking through the evidence, he thought his client was innocent. Proving this as fact became Jim Alberts’ obsession.
He went back through the evidence meticulously. There were four sets of footprints inside the home. None of them had been analyzed. A cursory match had been made of the shoes that Barton Edmunds had been wearing at the time he was arrested. The pattern of footprints matched his story exactly. The footprints were in the living room and the hallway leading to the bedrooms. The shirt Barton Edmunds was wearing when he was arrested did not have any blood on it as Detective Small had claimed at the preliminary hearing. Not a single drop. There were fingerprints on the bag of dope, but they did not match Edmunds’. The lynchpin in the prosecution’s case was the assertion that Barton Edmunds would not have been able to see the body of David Davenport on the floor in the living room because of the glare on the plate glass window of the morning sun. The police asserted that Edmunds had broken into the house to steal drug money. They had never been able to produce the money that was stolen.
Jim Alberts talked to Paul Davis about the discrepancies. Davis told him that he was skeptical, but his partner had done most of the testifying at the trial. Davis told him that the victims were from a prominent family and there was political pressure to arrest and convict. On a couple of occasions, Davis had tried to take the investigation in a different direction. Davis had always thought that the missing ranch hand, Bing Taylor, had something to do with it. Every time he went in that direction with the investigation, he was shut down by his superiors. He was told repeatedly that they had their man.
So, it was with some trepidation when Alberts received a phone call from his client telling him that another private investigator wanted to question him about the murders. Alberts wanted to be in on the questioning. He called Lindsay Carter and explained his position.
“You can be a part of this,” she said. “But, you must understand. I haven’t been hired to solve this crime. I have been hired to see if Kelly Davenport is alive.”
“I understand,” Alberts said. “Look, you were with the Sheriff ’s Department and I was with the L.A.P.D. We have worked big, ugly cases. These were small town cops who did a shoddy investigation.
They rushed to judgment and succumbed to political pressure.”
“So, what do you want from me?” she asked.
“I want you to look at the evidence,” he said.
“How do you think that can help me?” she answered.
“I think you’ll see that you are looking in the wrong direction,” he said.
“I’ll take a look but, I’m not making you any promises. If I think the evidence supports his conviction, I will tell you so,” Lindsay stated.
“I understand.” Alberts said. “I’m hoping that you’ll find that you’re not going to find out what happened to Kelly Davenport by going down this road.”
The two of them set up a meeting in Paso Robles.
Chapter 29
Alberts met Lindsay at the Paso Robles Inn for a working lunch. He shared the discrepancies in the case with her.
“You’ve shown this to the D.A?” she asked.
“I did about two years ago. I was told that the only way that we could get a new trial is to find new evidence. The D.A.’s office strongly believes that the evidence is good,” Alberts said.
“I noticed that you talked to Paul Davis.”
“He says that Small was the lead detective and made the decisions with the D.A.” Alberts said.
“I talked to him also. He indicated that he tried to investigate in a different direction and was shut down,” Lindsay said. “Have you ever heard the name Bing Taylor?”
“I saw that he was mentioned in the police report, but never questioned. He was another ranch hand I believe,” Alberts said.
“That’s right. He was never questioned and was found murdered in Tehachapi ten days after the Davenport murders,” Lindsay said.
“Why wasn’t this brought up at the trial?” Alberts questioned.
“I’m not sure that the D.A. knew about it since it happened in a different county,” Lindsay said.
“Do you know anything about him?” Alberts asked.
“More bodies were found at the Davenport ranch in Shandon recently. His name came up as a long time acquaintance of the Davenport family.”
“Have you uncovered anything that directly points to him for the Davenport murders?” Alberts asked.
“No, but there were four sets of footprints in the house,” she s
aid.
“I am trying to get my client out of jail. You are making it sound like he may be an accomplice,” Alberts said defensively.
“No, I’m pointing out that there were indications of other people in the house from the bloody footprints,” Lindsay said.
“The house was locked from the outside. My client had to break in,” Alberts said.
“I read that in the transcript and saw that the D.A performed some sort of test on the windows for the jury to see that there was no way your client could have seen the body from the glare. Have you tried to recreate that?” Lindsay asked.
“No, but that is a great idea,” he conceded.
“Unfortunately, it’s too late, the house burned down,” she responded. “There is one thing that bothered me in all of this.”
“What’s that?” Alberts asked.
“It is not often that I go to a parole hearing on a case. I noticed that Small did just that and presented new evidence,” Lindsay said.
“I thought that was odd too.”
“Especially, because there are no new owners of the property,” Lindsay said.
Alberts eyes widened. “Who owns the property?”
“Shelly Doran’s parents and they haven’t been there in years,” Lindsay said.
“Can you talk to them and find out of they spoke with Small?” Alberts asked excitedly.
Lindsay flashed a smile. “I already did. They haven’t heard from him since the trial,” she said.
“Gotcha.” Alberts said gleefully. “What now?”
“Take that to the D.A,” she said. “Maybe this would qualify as new evidence.”
“And if that doesn’t work?” he asked cynically.
“File a complaint with internal affairs. It’s a long shot, but testimony at a parole hearing is under oath. If Small lied there, he may have lied in other places,” she said.
“You think IA would review a case that is this old?” Alberts said.
“It’s a long shot,” Lindsay said. “What about the snitch?”
“He’s dead,” Alberts said. “He testified in three cases. All of them were jailhouse confessions.”
“This is a small town.” Lindsay remarked. “Was Small involved in all of the cases?”
“I’ve never checked,” Alberts said.
“Look at that angle too,” she responded. “The attorney that handled the case had never tried a murder case. Didn’t that bother the appeals court?”
“It didn’t bother them a bit,” Alberts said. “A good attorney would have challenged the timeline of the murders.”
“A good attorney would have proposed more questions about Kelly Davenport’s disappearance,” Lindsay remarked.
Chapter 30
Detective Kragen met Beatrice Taylor at her office. “You know that a private detective was here a few days ago?” she said.
“I know. We have been working with her on the Davenport child’s disappearance. She shared your conversation with me,” he said.
“Good, then I don’t have to repeat myself,” she said flatly.
“I talked to Charles Davenport and Judge Van Buren. They both seemed to point the finger at your brother Bing as Letty Carlson’s baby’s father.”
Beatrice broke out laughing. “You’re kidding right?”
He looked at her seriously. “No, I’m not.”
She peered back at him and said with certainty, “There is no way that my brother fathered that child.”
“How do you know that?” he asked.
“When Bing was a child, he had the mumps. He had full use of his equipment, but my parents were told that he would never be able to reproduce,” she said.
“You’re sure of that?” Kragen said.
“Yes, I am. No one knew but our family,” she said.
“So, who do you think fathered Letty’s child?” he asked.
“I’m going to tell you the same thing I told the PI. I think it was either Charles or Martin. The rumor around town was that it was Martin,” she said.
“Both of them claim that they were married at the time,” he said.
Beatrice let out a hearty laugh. “You and I both know that just because your married doesn’t mean you can’t fool around. Right?”
He smiled. “You’re right. So, which one would have the most to lose if his wife found out?”
“The way I see it, Charles’ wealth came from his father. He was going to inherit whether he fooled around on his wife or not. Have you met Lizzie?” Beatrice said.
“Yes, I did,” he said.
“She can be a formidable opponent. She seems like the perfect wife, but she as just as controlling and willful as Charles. It’s amazing that they haven’t managed to kill each other over the years,” she said.
“What about Van Buren?” Kragen asked.
“He’s an all together different demon. His parents had money, but lost most of it by the time he went to law school. Marty got lucky and married into money,” she said.
“He comes off as aloof, like he’s had money all of his life,” Kragen commented.
“He has and he hasn’t.” Beatrice said. “He gives the impression that he has. He’s good at the con. Darla had him on a leash. It was her money and she controlled the purse strings.”
“Is this common knowledge?”
“For those of us who knew him, yes. She was a nice lady, but she found out quickly that her husband couldn’t keep his pecker in his pants. She watched him like a hawk,” Beatrice said.
“If he fathered the baby, would she have known?” Kragen asked.
“You can bet on it,” she said.
Chapter 31
The Newport Aquatic Center was packed. The party for Pirate Bay Paddleboarding was in full swing. There were decorated cabanas set up on the beach. On the shore several men were teaching the party guests how to stand up on the paddle boards.
As Jeff and Lindsay entered the first cabana, Tracy McCarthy came up to them and gave Jeff a hug. “Nice to see you. I didn’t know if you would venture down this way,” she said.
“I wouldn’t miss Clay’s party,” Jeff said.
“He knows how to throw a party. There must be two hundred people here,” Tracy replied. She reached out and hugged Lindsay and took Evan from her. “How are you big guy?” she cooed.
“Where’s the line to get out on the water?” Jeff asked.
Tracy pointed to the edge of the water. “I think that first line is for beginners. Further down there are a couple of boards to take out for a while. Have you been here before?” Tracy asked.
“We came up once a while ago,” Lindsay answered. “We usually go down in Malibu since its closer to us.”
Jeff added, “We have our own equipment, but we didn’t want to hassle with the equipment and all of the baby’s stuff.”
“Is there anyone else here we know?” Lindsay asked.
“Oh, Clay knows everyone. I think a couple of Jeff ’s clients are here,” Tracy said.
A tall, tanned man walked up next to Tracy. “Who’s this?” he asked and pointed to Evan.
“Lindsay and Jeff, this is my uncle Danny,” Tracy said. “This is my agent Jeff and his wife.”
Everyone shook hands. “Evan’s ours,” Lindsay said. “But your niece seems to have taken a shine to him.”
They all laughed. Jeff said, “I’m going to go out on the water.” He took off down the beach.
“I want to go again too,” Tracy said and followed him.
“Danny, did you come down with Tracy?” Lindsay asked.
He looked at her shyly. “Most people call me Dan.”
Lindsay laughed. “Of course they do. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Tracy has called me Danny forever. We kind of grew up together,” Dan said.
“I forgot about that. Tracy was raised by your parents. Is that right?” Lindsay asked.
“Yes, my sister dropped her off and we never saw her again.”
“Seriously?” Lindsay said. �
�That’s harsh.”
“Yes, it was!” Dan exclaimed.
“How old was Tracy when this happened?” Lindsay asked.
“She was three or four years old,” he said.
Lindsay shook her head and looked at Evan sleeping. “I can’t imagine doing something like that.”
“I have two kids of my own. I can’t either,” Dan said.
“Was your sister always a problem?” Lindsay asked.
“Yes. She was my parents’ worst nightmare. She was the youngest and she ran away when she was 17,” he said.
“Did they find her?” Lindsay asked.
“No, they hired private detectives. One traced her to San Francisco, but no one found her. Then, one day out of the blue, she shows up at my parents’ house.” He paused and took a sip of wine. “She must have been twenty one or twenty two by then. She had Tracy.”
“So, she had her while she was gone?” Lindsay asked.
“She must have. She stayed a couple of days and talked to my parents about keeping Tracy. My parents agreed,” he said.
“Why didn’t your sister take Tracy to her father?” Lindsay asked.
“I don’t think the father was in the picture. There was a guy who visited her while she was at my parents. I never got the impression that he was the father,” Dan said.
“Did you know who the father was?” Lindsay asked.
“No, I remember the guy that visited was Tim Herron. Shana never said who the father was,” he said.
Lindsay looked surprised. “You remember the guy’s name after all of these years?”
Dan laughed. “I never forget a name. It’s kind of a curse.”
“What about Tracy’s birth certificate? Was there a father on it?” Lindsay questioned.
“Nope, I don’t think so.” He took another sip of wine. “You ask a lot of questions. You know that?”
Lindsay smiled. “Habit, I guess. I’m a private detective.”
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