“You need to get down here. I’ve already contacted Paul. He’ll be here around four. Can you cut out early?”
Alarmed by his sense of urgency, I told him, “Yes, I’ll be there.”
Too stressed to relax, my shoulders bunched around my neck. Worried to death he had found more evidence pointing at me, I paced the room, unable to concentrate on a single other thing. Locking my office door, I told the others I had last minute birthday arrangements as I hurried to the elevator. Anxious to arrive, I beat Paul by ten long minutes. As soon as he spotted me, his face broke into a handsome smile, causing my heart to slam against my chest. As soon as I stood from the bench I was waiting on, he placed a hand on the small of my back and escorted me to Detective Sutton’s office.
“At the table,” Detective Sutton instructed the moment we walked in the door. He edged around the corner of his desk, directing us to the already placed chairs in front of his laptop.
As soon as we settled in, his face took on a grim look. “My team went back over the videos from the day of the stairwell incident. As you’re aware, there aren’t any cameras within the stairwell, but there is a camera on every floor aimed down the hallway which covers the stairwell entrances. And like I told you before, from the time you and Julie entered, until the time you came out, from every floor in that forty-story building, no one entered the stairwell … no one, except for you and Julie.”
“Yes, I remember you saying that, but I also suggested—”
“Hang on,” he said, interrupting me. He shifted forward in his chair with his finger over the touchpad and then tapped the play button, displaying a section from a security clip. After it ran for a few seconds, he paused it at 5:11. “This is when you and Julie entered on the fifteenth floor.” He switched to a different segment. “Now, watch the clock on the twelfth floor very closely.” He played a section where the clock showed the time as being 3:11 and then he speed it through to accurately show the time lapsing minute by minute until it reached 5:11. Then all of the sudden, it was 3:11 again.
“Someone erased a slice of video,” Paul quickly deduced, his eyes staying glued to the clock now paused on the computer screen.
“Exactly,” Detective Sutton agreed. “There’s a good two-hour splice. The time should be 7:11, not back to 3:11.”
“The overlap covers the entire period I was in the stairwell,” I pointed out.
“Right again,” he agreed with a nod. “Someone used the twelfth floor to go in and attack you and Julie, then they went back out the same door.”
“Any idea why they copied over such a large segment of time?” Paul asked. “It probably only took a few minutes to get in and get out.”
The detective shook his head. “It would only be speculation. Possibly someone waited to see if Paige was going to die from her injuries. Or maybe someone was hiding in the building, waiting to make sure they passed through the lobby at a much later time in the day. There’s also the possibility someone wanted to hang around to see the scene unfold when the medical, police and media arrived. I really couldn’t say for sure. But if I were a betting man, I’d say whoever was in the stairwell with you had to wait for a shift change in the guard duty, which happened at six o’clock. It’s likely the earlier guard wouldn’t have looped the video, but the guy at six o’clock would be more amenable, or trustworthy, or able to be bought. We’ve subpoenaed the employee records from the security company. As soon as we find out the guard’s name, we’ll bring him in for questioning.”
“I don’t recall seeing a guard that night,” Paul mentioned.
I nodded in agreement with Paul. “I don’t believe anyone was on duty either. I remember calling for help, thinking he should have heard me.”
“There wasn’t anyone manning the station when we arrived either,” Detective Sutton provided. “We were still conducting our investigation when Mr. Halstead appeared at the desk. He said the security company called him in because the previous guard had a medical emergency and had to leave immediately. I asked the other guard’s name, but he didn’t know. All he knew was he was the replacement.”
“I wouldn’t know either,” I admitted. “In my previous accounting position, I rarely worked until six o’clock. I have no idea who might have been on duty.”
“The evening and nightshifts vary. It’s pretty much whoever the security company can get to show up,” Paul advised.
“We’ll know soon enough,” Detective Sutton promised. “Hopefully, the guard will talk.” He turned his attention back to the computer. “I have something else to show you.” He cleared his throat and moved the pointer to another video. “Brace yourself,” he warned.
My heart skipped a beat, wondering what was in store. The video showed the elevator opening with me dragging myself out. I looked pitiful, dazed and confused. The back of my head was covered in blood and I was barely moving. While there wasn’t any sound, my mouth was in motion, an indication of when I was calling for help.
He stopped the video. “Obviously, this is when you came off the elevator. A short time later, Paul found you.” He advanced the film to that point and paused it again. “This whole time, we’ve been concentrating on the stairwell cameras and people exiting the elevators, but I want you to look at this next part. It’s from the far end of the hallway and it’s a little blurry since it’s a distance away.”
Paul and I leaned our heads closer to the screen and peered at the video. The first segment I must’ve still been in the stairwell, but a man appeared at the end of the hallway, carrying a bat and heading toward the men’s restroom. He advanced the clip to where I was lying on the floor and Paul was hovering over me. In the far background the same man briefly appeared again, going the opposite direction and still carrying a bat. When he noticed us, he ducked back down the hallway, to where I knew he later hid behind a fake plant.
“Oh my God,” I yipped. “That’s David … David Ross.”
“Yes, it is,” the detective agreed. “Now let me show you an enhanced photograph from the first time he passed by.” He switched screens to a photo, enlarging it as best he could and waved his finger over a certain area. “Look right there. That looks like blood on the bat to me.”
I gasped. Paul cussed.
“We’re putting together a warrant as we speak. We’ll be searching his desk, his car and his home.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
David Ross
Early the next morning, David received another call from the detective, wanting to speak with him again. “Shit!” he groaned as soon as he hung up the phone. His nerves compacted into a tight bundle. He’d just toweled off, but now he was sweating so much, he needed another shower. Hadn’t he already explained everything? What did the police want now?
He dried his solid black hair, carefully parting it on the left side and then slicking it down with a gel he preferred. He shoved his legs into a pair of tan khaki pants and buttoned up a white dress shirt. He bent over tying the laces on his black dress shoes and then pocketed his keys, phone, chap stick, breath spray and wallet.
“I’m off,” he told his momma, giving a kiss to her cheek.
“You bring your girl home soon,” she urged him. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“We’re already planning a get together,” he told her, adding another kiss. “I’ll see you tonight.”
David sat for a moment in his car, thinking about Paige. He had asked her over for supper and her answer had been, “Sure, David.” She had agreed to a date with him! But then her attorney walked in and she rephrased everything to, “Why don’t you bring your mother up to the breakroom? We’ll have lunch together.”
And just like that, she had retracted their date.
It confirmed everything. All David needed to do was get rid of that attorney. Then she’d belong to him. He called into work and told Paige he’d be running late, though he didn’t volunteer why, and she hadn’t asked. Did she know he was being called in for further questioning?
“Da
vid, have a seat.” Detective Sutton directed him to the small table again where a laptop was open and ready. “I’d like for you to take a look at a couple of videos.”
David adjusted the chair in closer and peered at the screen as it began to play.
Holy shit, David thought, seeing a video of himself with a bat, heading toward the men’s room. The next clip showed him standing at the end of the hallway when Paige was bleeding all over the floor with that attorney hovering over her. For a moment, David’s mind wandered, wishing he would’ve used the bat on that attorney right then and there. Hindsight was always twenty-twenty.
Each of the clips were but a few seconds long, but it was time enough to cast David in a bad light. He was going to have to come clean, and it wasn’t something he wanted to do.
“I can’t wait to hear what you have to say for yourself,” Detective Sutton said when the second clip ended.
David sat in silence, unable to come up with a plausible story. At least not anything to logically justify him having a weapon in his hand only a few feet from an injured coworker, not to mention another one dead in the stairwell.
“I thought it was a fall,” he eventually choked out. “Neither Julie, nor Paige were hit with a bat.”
“We can always take another look at the medical records. Perhaps Paige’s x-rays tell a different story. Or maybe you didn’t use the bat because brute force was enough. Or could it be that Paige didn’t die and you came back to finish her off?”
“No,” David barked. “You’re wrong on all accounts. I would never hurt anyone.”
“I don’t know about that,” Detective Sutton doubted. “Look at this nice big glossy photo I have.” He pulled a picture from his files and pointed to the bat. “Look at the red stuff right there.” He made a big deal out of pointing his index finger to one particular spot. “I do believe that’s blood. So, let’s cut to the chase and concentrate on how it got there.”
David felt trapped. He needed to come up with a reasonable answer. “I’m not a stalker,” he prefaced, feeling a need to defend himself first. “But I’m shy, and I like Paige.” David’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I like Paige a lot.” He sucked in a big gulp of air. “I’ve always let her leave the office first, giving her time to walk down the stairs. Then I’d take the elevator down and wait for her in my car to make sure she safely made it to hers. That night wasn’t any different. But after waiting an inordinate amount of time, I went back to the office to check on her. When I didn’t find her, I thought she and Julie might have gone to a restaurant, so I returned to my car and waited for like an hour and half.”
“An hour and a half,” Detective Sutton said in an incredulous tone, making a note on his pad. “Go on,” he instructed after making David feel completely uncomfortable.
“It might not have been that long, but it was long enough for me to know something was wrong. That’s when I grabbed the bat from my trunk and headed back inside.”
“Wait a second. Are you saying you just sensed danger and knew to grab a weapon?” Detective Sutton made it sound so ridiculous.
“Yes, I knew something was wrong and I wanted to protect her, if need be.”
Detective Sutton glared at him. “Go on.”
David cleared his throat under the scrutinizing eyes of the detective. “Okay. Well, after going back to the office, I found everyone had left. At first, I got back on the elevator, but then I thought to check the stairs, so I stopped the elevator and got off on the twelfth floor.”
“The twelfth floor,” Detective Sutton repeated, making another note on his pad and circling the number twelve.
“Yes, the twelfth floor,” David choked out, his eyes unable to focus past the circled number twelve. “As soon as I opened the door, I saw Paige was crumpled at the midway landing. I ran to her to see if she was okay. I must’ve laid the bat in some of her blood. I tried to call 911, but couldn’t get a signal. When I headed down the stairs to get away from the cinder-blocked walls, I saw Julie sprawled everywhere and she … she looked dead.” David stopped talking, remembering Julie’s mangled body.
“So, what did you do then?”
“I couldn’t bring myself to pass Julie, so I went back up to the twelfth floor and rode the elevator down to the lobby. When I got off, I noticed the blood on the bat and, well, you know … I went to the men’s room and cleaned it off. When I came out, I saw a man hovering over Paige and I heard help arriving, so I just got the heck out.”
“In a hurry, were you?”
“No, I just…” David gulped. “I had a bat in my hand. It didn’t look good.”
“I’ll say,” Detective Sutton said caustically. “You weren’t in a hurry when you went in the restroom though, were you? Paige was dying and you sure took your time in there.”
“I … I was coming up with a way to get her help.”
“How about dialing 911 on your phone? That would’ve been a good start.”
“No, I didn’t want to pass the guard with the bat in my hand. I ended up taking the freight elevator so I could ditch the bat and come back inside. But it was too late, someone had already found her. I hid behind a fake plant, waited for a break in law enforcement, and then went to my car.”
“So, for all you knew, the girl you like a lot was dying, and you just left?” Detective Sutton said with a lot of tone in his voice.
“What could I have done?” David asked helplessly.
“You could’ve told us everything you knew for starters. Why’d you hold back on this when we questioned you originally … and at Penny’s death … and when we brought you in about hiding under a desk? What are you trying to hide?”
“Nothing, I swear,” David answered in a shaky voice.
“Well, we’ll see about that. Here’s a warrant. We’re searching your home, your car and your office desk.” He paused. “Are you sure you don’t want to add anything? Now would be the time.”
“No, no,” David pushed out. “Wait, my home. No, no, no … my momma.” David’s face turned white and his hands began to tremble. “Oh God, I need to call my momma. She’s going to be so upset.”
“Nope, you’re not calling her right now. Hand over your phone,” Detective Sutton said, holding out his hand.
“My phone!” David yelped. “No, please.”
“Yes, the warrant includes electronics. We’ll be taking your phone, your home computer, any tablets … whatever electronics you have.”
David shuddered. “There might be one more thing,” he said in a meek voice.
“What’s that?” Detective Sutton allowed.
“Pictures. I have a lot of pictures of Paige.” David had hundreds upon hundreds of photos on his phone … of Paige getting into her car … of her at her kitchen window … a few of her eating lunch in the downstairs deli, and the list went on. He suddenly realized he might be perceived as a stalker, which was utterly ridiculous. “But I’m not a stalker,” he reemphasized.
“Give me your phone,” Detective Sutton instructed in a firm voice.
David reluctantly dug his cell from his pocket, cradling it against his chest for a prolonged moment. “You won’t delete any of these, will you?”
“Nope. Most likely we’ll blow them up into nice poster-sized copies when the D.A. prosecutes you for killing Julie and attempting to kill Paige.”
“What?” David’s eyes couldn’t have grown bigger. “You can’t think I killed anyone!”
“Well, we’ll see what the evidence has to say.” Detective Sutton took the phone and obtained the passcode. “Where can we find that bat?” he asked as he thumbed through the countless photos.
“The trunk of my car,” David answered, watching him pause on photo after photo of Paige, taken at odd places … shopping for groceries, picking up her mail, going into the beauty salon, and just about anywhere he could snap her beautiful face. Dammit, he looked like a stalker.
“So, you say you’re not a stalker,” Detective Sutton said in a sardonic tone.
“No,” David answered adamantly. “I just like her.”
“A lot,” Detective Sutton finished. He switched over to the video app. “Are you filming her too?”
“No! Don’t look at that,” David yelped in a high-pitched tone.
“Well, when you put it that way,” Detective Sutton said, “then really, I must.” He played the last video and then just stared at David. “Didn’t I just ask if there was anything you wanted to add?”
David cringed after Detective Sutton had played the clip.
“This is important. Why were you withholding this?” Detective Sutton waved the phone at him, but David clamped his mouth shut. “If you’re hiding anything else, now would be a good time for you to speak up.”
“Unless you’re going to arrest me, I think I’m going to leave,” David told him.
“You’re free to go … for now. But you might want to hire an attorney.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
The Girlfriend & Lisa Harris
“Hey, Lisa, I just received a call from that detective. He wants to talk to me again.” Angela was at work, busy cutting some middle-aged woman’s hair. She held a thin line in one hand and snipped it with a pair of scissors, keeping the phone tucked against her shoulder.
“He called me too,” Lisa said in a shaky voice.
“I can’t get down to the precinct until lunch. I’m cutting hair right now and then I’m adding pink to some college girl’s hair.” She snipped at a few more strands while the lady clenched her teeth, hoping Angela didn’t butcher her. “What do you suppose he wants this time?”
“I don’t know,” Lisa responded, peering at the empty desk next to hers. “But David has been AWOL all morning. Do you think he knows something that would trigger the detective calling us?”
“How could he possibly know anything? Just stick with what we told him last time. Detectives like to interview people over and over, hoping to trip them up.”
“Sounds about right,” Lisa agreed. “I’ll talk to you later.”
A Deadly Promotion Page 23
