Karma's a Bitch: A Short Story

by Michael Goffinet

  *********

  A week later, Senior Computer Technician, Walter Jones, approached Andy at his desk. "Detective, do you have a minute?"

  Andy looked up. "Sure, Walter, what do you need?"

  "Well, you aren't going to believe this, but I was able to retrieve some deleted texts from Mrs. Sheppard's iPhone."

  Andy's eyes widened quizzically. "Interesting. Do you have the print out?"

  Walter placed the print out on his desk and pointed at the first line. "This text was a month before she was murdered.”

  Unknown caller: Are we meeting at the Paris Club tonight?

  Karen: I don't know if I can go through with it.

  Unknown caller: Please, I really want to see you.

  Karen: Ok, I'll be there at 11:00. I'll text you if I can't make it.

  "Here's another text the night she was murdered," Walter said.

  Unknown caller: I really need to see you. Can we meet at the Paris Club tonight?

  Karen: Fine, but this is the last time. I can't do it again.

  Unknown caller: Great, I'll see you at 11:00.

  Karen: Ok.

  Andy sighed and buried his face in his hands. He removed his hands and leaned back in his chair. "Well, this doesn't bode well for our case against Mr. Sheppard. Maybe she was having an affair.” He thought for a moment. "Something just doesn't seem right. Why would the old lady next door say she saw two people in the car?"

  "You know how unreliable witnesses are. She could have completely got it wrong. Maybe she saw a shadow or something," Walter answered.

  "Maybe, maybe," Andy whispered as he sat in a trance.

  "Let me know if you need anything else Detective."

  Andy came out of his trance and noticed Walter walking away, "wait, Walt."

  Walter spun around and came back. “Can I get the records of all calls made by the unknown caller?"

  "I'm already a step ahead of you. I got them this morning and unfortunately, there were no other calls or texts."

  Andy sighed. "So, it sounds like this unknown caller only bought this phone to text Mrs. Sheppard."

  Walter shrugged his shoulders. "It appears that way."

  "Okay, thanks Walt." What am I going to do now, he thought. The DA isn’t going to like this. He is not going to like it one bit. We are going to look like a bunch of idiots.

  The next day, Andy sat his desk. He had just returned back from the DA's office where they were discussing whether or not to drop the charges against Bob Sheppard, when the next wave of case destroying information arrived. Dennis Thomas from CSI approached him. "Detective Meola, do you have a moment?"

  "Of course Dennis, what's up?"

  "Well, we just got a DNA hit from one of the hairs found in Mrs. Sheppard's SUV."

  Andy quickly sat up in chair. "You're kidding? Whose are they?"

  "According to the Sex Offender database, the hairs belong to a man name Clint Evans."

  "What did he do time for?"

  "Rape."

  "Rape! Wow, maybe he's our guy. Thanks Dennis." He called Clara. "Clara, you're not going to believe this. We just got a hit on the hairs in the Sheppard case. I need you to find out everything there is to know about a guy by the name of Clint Evans."

  Clara called back an hour later. "Okay, here's the scoop. Clint Evans was an accountant before he got convicted of raping a woman in the ladies room of a bar."

  "What? In the ladies room; that's seems pretty gutsy for an accountant."

  "Well, according to Clint, it was consensual. She even admits to kissing him, but changed her mind at the last minute."

  "And the jury bought her story?"

  "They must have, because he was sentenced to four years in jail. He got out six months ago for good behavior."

  "Where's he at now?"

  "Well, he's still married to his wife."

  "Wow, now there's a forgiving woman. My wife would've left me in a heartbeat."

  "Yeah, really. My husband wouldn't have to worry about going to jail, because I would shoot his ass right between the eyes."

  Andy chuckled. "I bet you would. So he lives with his wife?"

  "No, they are legally separated, but according to his parole officer they are trying to work things out. He said that Clint got a job at ABC Hardware about six weeks ago and has been a model parolee."

  "Well, I guess that's about to change. Where is he right now?"

  "He's at work."

  "Where are you?"

  "Five minutes from the station."

  "Okay, why don't you swing by here and pick me up. We'll give ol' Clint a visit."

  Andy and Clara arrived at ABC Hardware with two uniformed officers. Clint Evans was behind the cash register ringing up a customer when he noticed two uniformed officers enter the store. They were followed by a man and a woman. Most likely plain clothed officers. He didn't know why, but his heart started beating rapidly. It felt like a jackhammer was in his chest. He looked down at his hands and they were trembling. "Hey, are you okay buddy?" the customer asked.

  "Um, yeah, I'm fine, just having a tough day." They couldn't be here for me, he thought. He was watching the officers as he finished with the customer. They walked up to the store manager. They talked for a minute and then the manager pointed at Clint. His face turned ashen and sweat started trickling down his forehead. The memory of jail was penetrating his brain. They started walking towards him. I can't go back to jail. I can't go back to jail. Clint panicked and started running. He ran down aisle twelve, where lumber supplies and wooden doors were displayed. He started pulling doors off the shelves. They clattered to the floor. He was hoping to slow the chasing officers. The first officer who rounded aisle twelve tripped over a door and crashed to the floor. The other officer was able to avoid the fallen doors. Clint turned the corner and was now running down the back of the store. He looked backwards and noticed the officer gaining on him. He made a quick left down aisle three. He was still looking backwards when he collided into a shopping cart. The cart was parked sideways, and his momentum brought him and the cart crashing to the floor. He was dazed, but with adrenaline pumping through his veins, still managed to get to his feet. He started running again, but by then it was too late. The chasing officer dove on him like a linebacker trying to stop the game winning touchdown. Clint went down hard and they crashed into a display of potted flowers. Dozens of flowers came crashing down on and around them. The officer cuffed him. When they got up, they were covered in dirt and flower petals. The officer punched Clint in the kidney for the trouble and read him his rights. Clint was booked at the police station and assigned a public defender. The public defender was Joe Solowhisky. Everyone just called him Whiskey. He was of average height, average build, and had average looks. I guess you could say he was the average Joe. He had wired rimmed glasses and short brown curly hair. He was wearing a blue pin stripped suit that day, but still looked under twenty-one, which actually wasn't far from the truth. Joe had just graduated law school and this was his first case. Whiskey led his client into the interrogation room where Andy and Clara were waiting. Andy spoke first. "I just want to inform you that this conversation is being recorded." Whiskey nodded. "First of all, Mr. Evans, why did you run?" Clint stood silent, chewing on his lower lip. "Why did you run Mr. Evans?" Andy repeated.

  Clint shrugged his shoulders. "I don't really know. As soon as I saw the police officers coming in my direction, I just panicked."

  "But if you didn't do anything wrong why would you run?"

  "I didn't do anything wrong the first time, but I still went to jail."

  Andy’s brow raised. "Raping a woman in the bathroom is doing nothing wrong?"

  Clint looked frustrated and scratched his head. "I know no one believes me, but I swear on my son's life, I didn't rape that woman."

  "That's not what a jury thought."

  "That still doesn't make it so. Jury's have made mistakes before and they made a mistake with me as well."

  "Okay, Mr. Ev
ans, do you know a woman by the name of Karen Sheppard?"

  Clint looked confused. "The woman who was killed a couple of weeks ago?"

  "Yes, that one."

  "Well, um, yes, she was a customer at ABC. She came in often."

  "Did you have a personal relationship with her?"

  "Me? No. She was married!"

  "That didn't stop you before."

  "Look, I didn't rape Laura Swanson. I did cheat on my wife and for that, I will never forgive myself, but I've learned my lesson. I will never do that again."

  "We interviewed some of your co-workers and according to them, you two flirted often."

  "Oh, I wouldn't say flirted, but we did talk some."

  "So, the two of you never hooked up?"

  "Definitely not! Is that what this is all about? I spoke with a lady who was killed and since I'm supposedly a sex offender, I must have killed her."

  "Well did you?"

  "Did I what?"

  "Kill her. Did you kill Karen Sheppard?"

  "God, no! I could never do something like that."

  "Where were you the night of the killing?"

  "I do remember that night, because the day after, the entire store was talking about it. I was at my house that night."

  "Can anyone verify that?"

  "Well, I talked to my wife that night around eight and then I went straight to bed. I had to open the hardware store at six thirty the next morning."

  "So, you really have no alibi?"

  "I haven't gone to a bar since I've been out of prison. I come home from work, go to bed, get up and do it all over again. Any spare time I have, I try to spend it with my wife."

  "Aren't you and your wife legally separated?"

  "We are, but we are on the road to recovery. She says she can forgive me, but it takes time."

  "Forgive you, for the rape?"

  "No, she knows I didn't rape anyone. I mean, forgive me for cheating on her."

  Whiskey interrupted. "Look Detective, is this all you have? This couldn't have been enough to arrest my client."

  "That's true, but bare with me a moment. I'm getting there."

  “Why did you text Mrs. Sheppard?”.

  Clint’s eyebrows lifted in confusion. He looked at Whiskey then back to Andy. “What are you talking about? I didn’t text anyone. I don’t even know how to text. You have my phone; check it and you’ll see.”

  “You’re right; your phone doesn’t have any texts on it, but how about your other phone?”

  “I don’t have another phone. Why would I need another phone?”

  “Please, Mr. Evans, let’s stop playing games. You bought a disposable phone for the sole purpose of texting Mrs. Sheppard.”

  Whiskey threw up his hands in frustration. “Detective, that’s enough. You are harassing my client. He answered your question. Now please move on.”

  Andy calmed himself. "Fine, Mr. Evans, one more question. If you answer this to my satisfaction, I'll release you."

  Clint sat up in his chair with a bit of optimism. "Can you explain why we found strands of your hair in Mrs. Sheppard SUV?"

  Clint looked flabbergasted. "That's not possible!"

  "Well, DNA doesn't lie. That's how we found you."

  Clint sat silent for a moment, staring at Andy, then his entire body went limp like he was a puppet and his strings were cut. His body fell forward, hitting his forehead on the wooden table as he tumbled to the ground, taking the chair with him. Clint came to a couple minutes later. The paramedics arrived and checked him out. Clint checked out fine and an officer took him back to his cell.

  "I've never seen anything like that," Andy said to Clara.

  "Me neither. He seemed utterly shocked. Is there any way the forensic guys are wrong?"

  "I just don't see how, but you 're right, something doesn't seem quite right. Have we gotten anywhere on the phone of the unknown caller who was texting Mrs. Sheppard?"

  "We already know it was a disposable phone. I was able to trace the number back to the store it was purchased from. They looked in their records, but the phone was paid for in cash."

  "How about security tapes?"

  "They have them in the store, but they only keep them for a month and the phone was bought two months ago."

  Andy arched his eyebrows. "Two months ago? Didn't you say that Clint has only worked at ABC Hardware for six weeks?"

  "Yeah, so?"

  "Well, why would a guy buy a disposable phone to text a woman he hadn't even met yet?"

  "Ex-felons always get disposable phones. They can't get a contract with a normal carrier."

  "Yeah, but Walt said that there was no other activity on that phone. It appeared that the owner only got the phone for the express purpose of texting Mrs. Sheppard."

  Clara had a quizzical look on her face. "Yeah, I see your point. Well, what's next?"

  "Right now, all of the evidence points to Clint Evans, but I still think Bob Sheppard is involved in all of this."

  "You don't think they are working together, do you?"

  "I don't really know what to think at this point. I just wish we could find that phone."

  "Yeah, me too. I won't give up. So what's going to happen to Sheppard?"

  "I've talked to the DA. He's already called Mr. Sheppard's lawyer and told him we are dropping our case against him."