Alter Ego

by David Archer

The first photos, of course, showed Brenda Starling’s body, and Indie had to cover her mouth to stifle the sobbing sound that wanted to come out. She forced herself to look, knowing that anything that might help to clear Sam would not be obvious. She glanced around to make sure Kenzie wasn’t anywhere near, then blew the picture up and studied it closely a section at a time. As disturbing as it was, she didn’t find anything that could help her prove Sam’s innocence.

  Next, she looked at the evidence photos. There were several shots of the van taken from the grainy video, but those were useless. There were no existing photos of the van Sam owned for such a short time, and the fact that it had been destroyed meant it would be impossible to compare the two. The one in the picture was certainly the right make and model, but there was no possible way to prove that they weren’t the same vehicle.

  The next photo, however, caught her completely off guard. It was a photograph of several hairs identified as whiskers, laying on a white background. They were gray and about a quarter of an inch long, and Indie felt a stirring of hope.

  According to the Medical Examiner’s Office report, Brenda had died the same day Sam had left for Idaho. Sam had, somewhere in his ancestry, a couple of Native American great-grandfathers; his beard would not be able to grow that quickly to such length, and Sam was meticulous about shaving every morning. While it might not be enough evidence to convince a jury, the fact that those whiskers were so long was enough to allow Indie to dispel her own creeping doubts. She made a note to speak to Carol Spencer about it, then clicked on the next image.

  This was the pubic hairs, and once again Indie stared at the screen in surprise. Sam wasn’t the type to shave that area and she had never noticed any gray hairs down there. The ones in the photo in front of her were definitely gray, so she made another note of that fact.

  The next photo was of some dry, flaky bits of something, and she had to look at the tag to know that this was the dried remnants of some sort of bodily fluid. It had been recovered from near the girl’s genitals, and the lab report said that it contained traces of human semen. It didn’t do anything to help, so she clicked the next image.

  Now she was looking at one of the stab wounds on the body. It was about an inch and a half long with smooth sides that tapered to a point. The police were speculating that it had been made by a butcher knife, and Indie didn’t see anything to make her think that could be a mistake.

  The rest of the photos were of stab wounds and ligature marks, the marks around the girl’s wrists that indicated she may have been bound at some point. None of them did anything to implicate or exonerate Sam, so Indie backed out of the database, careful not to leave any traces of her intrusion.

  Herman had been busy. There were a dozen links on the screen when she checked that window, and she went through them one by one. There were a few more articles about errors in DNA, but they usually related to older cases that had been disproven by new techniques in DNA analysis. The only one that seemed even potentially relevant was a case that had occurred in California, when a man had been arrested for a crime that turned out to have been committed by his identical twin brother. Indie read through it carefully to see if it might give her any kind of ideas, but it didn’t. The only relative who could possibly give such a match would be an identical twin, and Sam didn’t have a twin brother.

  Frustrated, she leaned back in her chair after closing the window. At least she was confident that Sam was innocent; the long whiskers and gray pubic hairs were enough to convince her that someone else had committed the crime. The problem was going to be convincing a jury, and she did not believe that her testimony as to Sam’s shaving habits or the color of his shorties was going to be enough.

  Grace stepped into the room to tell her that dinner was ready, and she got out of her chair to join the rest of them at the table. Dinner was subdued, because they were all worried about Sam, but Kenzie was doing her best to lighten the mood.

  “You gotta eat, Mommy,” she said. “Daddy will get mad if you don’t. He says you’re too skinny already, he’ll get mad if he comes home and you got even skinnier.”

  Indie grinned at her daughter. “I know, sweetie,” she said. “I’m eating, see?” She picked up a forkful of the quickly heated frozen lasagna and shoved it into her mouth.

  “Don’t let this get you down, Indie,” Grace said. “You know Samuel, he’ll figure out what’s going on.”

  “I know,” she said. “I’m just worried about him being in jail. You know, a lot of criminal types don’t care for former police officers. Sam could be in danger in there, and there’s nothing I can do to help him.”

  A knock on the door caught their attention, and Indie looked at the grandmas for a second before getting up and going to look out the window on the door. She broke into a smile, and opened the door wide.

  “Come in, quick,” she said as reporters still on the lawn started shouting questions.

  Summer Raines stepped in, followed by Jade Miller, Denny Cortlandt, Darren Beecher, Steve Beck and the ever present Walter Rawlins. Right behind Walter were Ron Thomas and Jeff Donaldson, Sam’s former bosses at Windlass.

  “We all just heard about it on the news,” Summer said. “There’s no way on God’s green Earth we would ever believe Sam could do such a thing, Indie.”

  “Sam wouldn’t do it,” Walter said. “Sam couldn’t do it.”

  “That’s right, Walter,” said Steve. He turned to Indie. “It came across the screen on the wall in our lobby, and Eileen, Ron’s mom, started screaming. We all went running out to see what was wrong and she showed us, and Ron and Jeff said we can do anything it takes to prove Sam is innocent.”

  “Just tell us where to start, love,” Denny said. “Fill us in on whatever you’ve got.”

  Indie stood and stared as the others piped in their support, and then tears started streaming down her face.

  “I don’t how to thank you all,” she said. “I’ve been digging into it, and I found a couple things that convinced me Sam is innocent, but it’s not going to be enough for a jury.”

  “Okay, but it might give us a place to start,” said Darren. “We have to get on this now, before they start badgering him into plea bargains.”

  “Sam would never take a plea deal,” Indie said. “He’d rather go down fighting any day, rather than admit to something he didn’t do. Come on, guys, you know him that well.”

  “Yeah,” Denny said, “but I also know that the prosecutors can use some pretty dirty tricks against you. We don’t want to take any chance that they might manage to break Sam down.”

  Indie nodded. “Okay, come on in here and I’ll show you what I found. Sit down in the living room while I go get my computer.”

  As she went through the dining room, she pointed at the two children and gave her mother a look that said, “Keep them out.” Kim nodded her understanding and kept Kenzie’s attention as Indie fetched her laptop and returned to the living room.

  “Okay,” she said when she sat on the couch, setting her computer on the coffee table, “take a look at these pictures. These are supposed to be the whiskers they found inside the victim’s bra. If you look at how long they are, they couldn’t possibly be Sam’s. He shaves every morning like clockwork, and his whiskers don’t grow very fast. What most men would call a five o’clock shadow is what he shaves off the next morning. These whiskers, if they were his, would have to be at least three or four days old. They can’t possibly be his, and I don’t care what the DNA tests say.”

  All eight of her visitors leaned down to look, and they all agreed with her opinion. Sam’s smooth chin had even been the topic of a few jokes around Windlass HQ, because Denny and Steve could use their own chins for sandpaper by early afternoon. Walter could grow a thick, full beard within three days, one that most men would envy after a week; he was so meticulous about shaving that he carried a battery-operated shaver in his pocket, and was known to use it two or three times a day.

  Indie clicked onto the ph
oto of pubic hairs. “Now, you have to take my word for it,” she said with an embarrassed grin, “but these could not be Sam’s, either. All of them are gray, and I’ve never found any gray ones on Sam. If these were his, at least some of them would be dark.”

  Summer grinned at her. “A wife would know,” she said. “And you’re right about Sam shaving; those chin whiskers couldn’t be his.”

  “Yeah, but she’s also right about it not being enough,” Steve said. “Even with all of us talking about how Sam shaves every day, the prosecutor could point out that we hadn’t seen him in a while, and could make it sound like his wife would naturally lie for him. Same with the short and curlies; while they may not be visible, Sam probably does have a few gray ones down there. They’ll say it’s only coincidence that that’s all they found on the body, and the DNA match means the jury would buy it. We’ve got to come up with something a lot more convincing than that, and we need to do it soon.”

  “No, first we need to get him out of jail,” Jeff Donaldson said. “Any word on bail yet, Indie?”

  “I haven’t heard anything so far,” she said. “Sam hasn’t even called me since they took him away. I got hold of our lawyer, Carol Spencer, but I haven’t heard anything back from her yet, either.”

  “Hopefully she can get bail set for him,” Ron said. “Needless to say, we’ll cover it. If we’re going to break this case, we need Sam Prichard heading up the investigation.”

  Indie’s eyes started leaking tears again and she leaned over to throw her arms around Ron’s neck. He patted her on the back comfortingly while the rest of them moved in to turn it into a group hug.

  When they broke, Denny waved a hand in the air to get their attention.

  “I’m thinking about all this,” he said, “and it seems to me like somebody is trying to set Sam up. That’s the only thing I can figure, this is some sort of frame job. We all know bloody well he didn’t do it, so it can’t be his bloody DNA. Has anyone checked to see if his DNA profile might have been tampered with?”

  “Not yet,” Indie said, “but I can do that. Karen Parks told me that Sam’s DNA sample was taken when he got arrested on another bogus charge a couple years ago. I should be able to find his profile in the database, and if it’s been changed at all, there should be some kind of indicator.”

  She started tapping on the keyboard, but suddenly, her cell phone rang. It was laying on the coffee table beside the computer and she snatched it, then saw that it was Carol Spencer calling.

  “Carol?” Indie said as she answered the phone, putting it on speaker so they could all hear. “What’s happening?”

  “This is an ugly damn case, that’s what,” the lawyer said. “Indie, I’ll be honest, this does not look good.”

  “I understand that, but I know that Sam didn’t do it,” Indie said. She quickly explained about the whiskers, and the rest of the people around her added their own confirmation. “That’s enough to convince us he’s innocent, so we are all trying to figure out who might be trying to set him up.”

  “I don’t know who’s trying to set him up, but they’ve done one helluva job. Indie, they’ve got three different DNA samples that match up to Sam. There’s no way in hell I’m going to convince a jury that this is some kind of mistake, that’s just not possible.”

  “But it is,” Indie said. “Maybe not a mistake, but it’s wrong, that’s all I’m trying to say. I’m going to check the DNA database and see if I can find any sign that Sam’s DNA profile has been altered, maybe to match that of the real killer. I know how far-fetched that sounds, but it has happened in the past.”

  “Many times,” Darren said. “When I was with the FBI, I worked on cases that involved tampered DNA records. It’s a little harder to do the last few years, but a really good hacker could pull it off.”

  “And a really good hacker can find evidence of the tampering,” Indie said. “If it’s there, I’ll find it.”

  “And then I have to defend you for hacking into a secure database,” Carol said.

  “No, you won’t,” Ron Thomas said. “Indie is still listed as a contract agent for DHS. I can get the Director to issue an order for her to investigate the possibility that Sam’s DNA record was compromised, and there will be a warrant to back it up.”

  “You can do that?” Carol asked.

  “Absolutely,” Ron said. “Sam has done an awful lot of work for Homeland Security, and he carries some pretty sensitive, even top-secret information around in his head. Investigating the charges against him could easily lead to questions about national security that they won’t want anyone asking, so I can twist some arms.”

  “Well, get to twisting. Indie, if you find anything, you get it to me as soon as you can. I just left Sam a little bit ago and he seems to be doing okay. He’s as doggedly determined to prove his innocence as you are, and while I believe he didn’t do it, I definitely know this is going to be an uphill battle.” She paused for a second. “He wants me to go for bail in the morning,” she said. “Indie, can you really afford…”

  “I can,” Ron said. “You get a bail set, and I’ll be there to sign it. What time is the hearing?”

  “Nine o’clock tomorrow morning, in Fort Collins. Sam is being transported up there early tomorrow, and I’m not certain he’ll even get to make any phone calls tonight. Sometimes they keep an inmate away from the phones when they are about to be moved, so they can’t set up any kind of escape attempt.”

  “Sam wouldn’t ever try to escape,” Indie said. “Unlike a lot of cops, he actually believes in the system.”

  “Yeah? I wish I did. Unfortunately, I’ve seen too many innocent men and women go to prison, despite my best efforts. I don’t want Sam Prichard to be the next one.”

  “Don’t you worry,” Denny said. “He won’t be.”

  FOUR

  The Windlass crew stayed for more than an hour, brainstorming and trying to think of angles they might approach during the investigation. Summer was going to speak with Detective O’Rourke, who was a single man in his forties, to try to use her own special methods to persuade him that there was something fishy about the case. Jade and Darren were going to speak with the lab that had analyzed the DNA samples, to see if there was any possibility of an error on their part, or at least discuss the possibility that Sam’s DNA profile might have been altered. Steve and Walter planned to go take a good look at the spot where the murder was thought to have occurred, and Denny Cortlandt would be looking for similar cases that might’ve happened in the past. If they could establish that the killer had struck before, at a time when Sam could not have been guilty, it would create a strong possibility of a jury accepting that there was reasonable doubt.

  When they were gone, Kenzie came into the living room.

  “Mommy? Are they going to help Daddy?”

  Indie pulled her into her lap and put her arms around her daughter. “They are certainly going to try,” she said. “Sweetheart, I know you don’t really understand what’s happening, but somebody is saying that Daddy did some really bad things. Now, I know he didn’t do it, and I know that for sure, but that’s partly because I know him so well. What we have to do is find more proof that he didn’t do it, so that nobody would believe it, even if they don’t know him the way we do.”

  “But Beauregard already said so,” Kenzie said. “Beauregard said he knows Daddy didn’t do it, right? Can’t we tell them that Beauregard is never wrong?”

  “Honey, most people don’t believe in Beauregard,” Indie said. “It would be pretty hard to explain that he’s the reason we believe Daddy is innocent, you know?”

  Kenzie looked at her for a moment, then leaned against her chest. Indie held her close for a little while, then the two of them got up. They were just about to leave the living room to go to Kenzie’s bedroom when Indie’s phone rang, and she turned to grab it.

  It was Sam calling through the jail’s phone system, and she broke into a big smile as she accepted the collect call. “Sam?”


  “It’s me, babe,” he said. “They just brought the phone around, this was the first chance I’ve had to call you.”

  “Jerks,” Indie said. “You’re supposed to get a phone call as soon as they put you in. Aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but they usually wait until they get you into a cellblock. Because of who I am, they put me into a solitary cell, and it doesn’t have one of the phones on the wall. They have a portable one they bring around, and it just got here. How are you doing?”

  “Well, I’m pissed off, but that’s the worst of it. I miss you, but—Sam, I know you didn’t do this. And just for the record, I even found a little bit of proof. Those whiskers they found? They couldn’t possibly be yours, because they’re way too long. On you, it would take two or three days for them to go that far, and you never let your whiskers grow out.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard yet,” Sam said. “Carol was here, and she says the evidence is so overwhelming that she’s worried about what would happen if I had to go to trial. I told her to see about bail tomorrow, but it may be pretty high. I don’t know if we can…”

  “Ron and Jeff were here a little bit ago,” Indie interrupted him. “Ron says he’s going to be at your arraignment tomorrow, and he’ll sign for whatever bail is required. He says the only hope we’ve got of proving you didn’t do this is to have you out here running the investigation.”

  “Wow,” Sam said. “I would never have asked him to do that, but I guess that’s the kind of friend he is. Did you happen to tell him about the whiskers thing?”

  “I did, but he said he already knew you couldn’t possibly have done this. The whole team was here, Sam, and even Walter is insisting that you are innocent. They are all going to start working on it tomorrow, and Walter is even going to look at the scene. I don’t know what he expects to find after this much time, but if anybody can spot something, I believe it would be Walter.”

  “Absolutely. Listen, babe, I’ve only got a couple of minutes. How is Kenzie holding up?”