“How so?”
I took a breath as tears stung my eyes. “He touched me inappropriately.”
“Can you be more specific?”
Tears fell down my cheeks. “He fondled my breasts.” I took a breath. “And touched inside my legs, under my skirt.”
“Did you resist?”
“Yes,” I said, wiping tears from my cheek. “The passenger door was open, so I tried to kick him in the chest to get him out, but he grabbed my ankles then lay on top of me, between my legs.” I glanced up, surprised to see horror in some of the jurors’ eyes. “I had a gun strapped to my leg, under my skirt. He asked if I had a permit, and I told him yes. Then he asked if I liked it rough. He said Sarah had liked it rough when he’d raped her. He insinuated he was the one who’d killed her too. He was about to rape me when we heard voices in the parking lot. He got out to make them go away. He said he’d kill me if I gave myself away, then took my truck keys—which he’d found during his search.”
“Then what happened?”
“My cell phone had fallen out of my pocket. My hands were bound behind my back, but I groped around until I found it on the floorboard of the back seat of the car. Then I opened the car door and snuck out.”
“Were you concerned that you would face charges for fleeing custody?” the foreman asked.
“Of course. That was part of the reason I took the time to find my phone. I knew it would be my word against his unless I got evidence of wrongdoing. I wasn’t sure where to go. I figured if I went back into the bar, he’d haul me away and use his badge to get away with it. So I ran into the woods behind the building and got my hands in front of me. When he taunted me that he would come find me, I turned on my camera and videotaped what he was saying, especially after his friend showed up.”
“And who was his friend?”
“Officer Flem Horton. The other Sugar Branch police officer.”
“What were they sayin’ to each other?”
“The other officer was angry that Officer Frasier had snatched me. Then Officer Horton said they’d need to hide my body.”
My breath hitched as I struggled to hold back fresh tears.
“Do you need to take a moment?” the foreman asked. “Or a glass of water?”
“Water, please.”
A woman brought me a bottle of water and a tissue box, and I grabbed the bottle and took a long swig. As I set it down, my eyes found Mason. His face looked paler than usual, but he refused to look at me.
“Then they discussed moving my truck,” I said. “Where to hide it. They said they’d handle it just like they did with Sarah. They discussed having killed Emmitt Lincoln as well. They said no one had found either of the bodies in the junkyard, so it would be a good place for them to hide me. They said I was the only one looking for Sarah, so I needed to disappear.” I took another drink of water, my hand shaking as I lifted it to my mouth. I’d left out their discussions about who had hired them and the likelihood that he wouldn’t be happy about the turn of events, but I’d practiced this testimony with Gary. I was sure they wouldn’t be able to tell.
“Then what happened?”
I lowered the bottle and screwed the cap back on, holding it in my lap with my left hand. “Officer Frasier said he wanted to rape me, but the other officer told him there wasn’t time and they needed to kill me and be done with it.”
“And you got this all on video with your phone?”
“Yes. They didn’t know where I was, but my phone buzzed with a text, and they heard it. They caught me and Office Horton reminded Officer Frasier again he didn’t have time to rape me. They realized people would hear the gunshots if they shot me, but they didn’t want to haul me somewhere else to do it.”
“Why was that?”
I released a bitter laugh. “They didn’t say, but I can only presume it’s because I wasn’t the most cooperative hostage and they were afraid I’d run away again or cause some kind of trouble. So Officer Horton decided to strangle me with his hands right then and there. I tried to pry him off, but he was too strong, and I started to pass out. My body went limp and I heard gunshots that sounded quiet, like the gun was equipped with a silencer. I fell and thought I’d been shot, but Officer Horton fell with me, ending up on top of me. I lost consciousness, and the first thing I saw when I woke up was Joe.”
“Joe?”
“Joe Simmons. The chief deputy sheriff of Fenton County. I’d called to tell him I was at the bar. He came because he was worried about me being there alone.”
The foreman was silent for a moment, then said, “So both officers were shot. Do you know who shot them?”
“No. I never saw a gunman. I never saw anyone until I saw Joe.” A lie, but only partially. I barely saw Denny Carmichael. I heard him tell me I owed him a favor for saving me.
“Why would the gunman shoot the officers and not you?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe it was a vigilante.”
“Do you believe that?” he asked.
“I’m not sure what to believe. I only know they’re dead and I’m alive.”
“And you didn’t see the gunman?”
“No.”
“Do you have any suspicions who it might be?” he asked.
“None.”
“Could it have been Skeeter Malcolm?”
I paused and said, “I couldn’t say.”
He looked surprised by my answer. Had he expected me to condemn him or exonerate him? “What happened to your phone?”
“It got knocked out of my hand when the officer caught me, but I couldn’t find it after Joe helped me up. No one else found it either.”
The foreman took a moment before he asked, “What is your relationship with Joe Simmons?”
His question caught me off guard. “I’m not sure what that has to do with the Sugar Branch police.”
“Considering the fact that Chief Deputy Simmons found you and corroborated your story, it makes all the difference.”
I hadn’t expected this line of questioning. I shot a glance to Mason, but he refused to meet my eyes. “Joe is my ex-boyfriend, but we’re friends now. If you’re in need of corroboration, I expect the ER report speaks for itself. And the ambulance driver’s report about the fact I was distraught and nearly hysterical. And I would suspect the autopsy report for Officer Horton likely shows that he had scratch marks on his hands from when I’d tried to pry his fingers off my throat.”
“Simmons is living with you, correct?”
He wasn’t going to let the issue of Joe go, and I knew exactly where that was coming from. Mason knew about the baby.
I almost answered with a retort but realized that wouldn’t be helpful. I met his gaze, trying to hide my defiance. “Yes.”
“And he moved in after the incident with the Sugar Branch police?”
“He was worried about my safety, not to mention my dying sister had just moved into my house. He’s been a huge help.”
“Why was he worried about your safety?”
“A gunman shot the two officers. He was worried the gunman would be back to finish me.”
“Have there been any threats to your safety since Chief Deputy Simmons moved in for your protection?”
“If you’re askin’ if I’ve been in danger since, the answer would have been no until a few nights ago. I was at Beacon’s Pharmacy when two men showed up asking the pharmacist for prescriptions from Dr. Arnold. I ran out the back and they followed. Someone shot them and I took off.”
“So in August you were in an incident with the Sugar Branch police. They were shot, you escaped. Then, two nights ago, you were involved in another incident where two men were shot and you escaped.”
Crap. When he put it that way, it didn’t sound good. “That is correct.”
“And where did you go after the men were shot in the pharmacy parking lot?”
“A man forced me into his truck at gunpoint, but after he’d gone a ways, I told him I had to throw up. He stopped his t
ruck and let me out to vomit. Then I ran into the woods to hide.”
“Another similarity to Sugar Branch.”
“The strategy worked last time, so I decided to try it again.”
“And again, you called Joe Simmons when you walked into the convenience store.”
Double crap. “I had lost my phone in the parking lot and I knew his number. Not to mention I’d texted him when the men showed up threatening the pharmacist. I knew he was on his way and would be worried when he got there and found me missing.”
“Did you do anything illegal, Ms. Gardner?”
His question caught me by surprise.
“Last time I checked, bein’ in the wrong place at the wrong time wasn’t an arrestable offense.” I put some humor into it, and a couple of the jury members smiled and chuckled.
“I’d also like to point out,” I added, “that before the incident on August 10th, I called one of the special prosecutors, Mason Deveraux, and told him that I was concerned the Sugar Branch Police Department had been bought. I’d heard rumors about it during my investigation. That was one of the reasons I’d called Joe when I went to the bar. I’d hinted to people that I didn’t think the police had done a thorough job, so I was slightly concerned for my safety, and I asked Joe to come check on me if I didn’t check in with him. But he decided to come right away.”
“Do you think Joe Simmons shot and killed the Sugar Branch officers?”
I couldn’t hide my surprise. “No. He’s the chief deputy sheriff and he would have had grounds to apprehend them.”
“You’re certain it wasn’t James Malcolm, who goes by Skeeter?”
I steeled my spine. Here we go. They might have brought in replacement for Mason, but these were his questions. His agenda. “Like I said, I don’t know who it was.”
“But you’re acquainted with James Malcolm?”
I took a moment to think on that, then looked at the jury. “I met Mr. Malcolm last winter when we were both working toward a common goal: stop J.R. Simmons. I’d caught wind that J.R. was trying to kill my then-boyfriend, Mason Deveraux, who was the assistant DA for Fenton County. He’s right over there.” I pointed to him at the table. He glanced up briefly but had the good sense to look slightly embarrassed. “I needed contact with the criminal world to get to the sources I needed. Mr. Malcolm provided me with those contacts.”
“Why would a notorious criminal help you? The girlfriend of the county’s assistant DA? One who had sworn to take down James Malcolm?”
Thank goodness we’d prepared for this one. “I can’t attest to the latter two questions, but I can answer the first. I provided a distraction,” I said. “I wore a disguise of a black dress and a hat with a veil to cover my face.” I paused and scanned the jury box, stopping when I saw a younger woman. “Powerful men often think women are weak. Objects. They loosen their tongues around them.”
“And how did you get those men to loosen their tongues, Ms. Gardner?” the foreman asked in a condescending tone.
“If you’re insinuatin’ inappropriate things happened, then you’re dead wrong. Some men try to impress women they hope to sleep with. They say things that maybe they shouldn’t.”
“So you lured them with the expectation of sex and tricked them into giving up secrets?”
I forced myself to remain cool and collected. “No. I didn’t have to make any promises I didn’t intend to keep. My hat and veil and mysterious persona were enough for them to try to woo me.”
“And what did they tell you?”
I mentioned Mick Gentry’s name and told the jury about his attempts to take over the underworld, and how I’d used him to set up a meeting with J.R. But I left out a whole lot of information.
“And what did James Malcolm get out of this arrangement?” the foreman asked.
“I helped him suss out who held a grudge against him.”
“And who did?”
“Mick Gentry, of course.” A safe answer. He was dead and tied to J.R.
“What other men did you tell Malcolm about?” the foreman asked.
I shifted my gaze to Mason. “I’ll be honest, there were others, but their names are long forgotten. I had one purpose and one purpose only. To save Mason. I loved him with everything in me, and I was desperate to protect him. Mick Gentry was tryin’ to kill Mason, and J.R. Simmons was behind it. I was willing to risk everything to save him and put Simmons behind bars.”
Mason had the good sense to keep his gaze averted. The attorney next to him flushed red. He looked none too pleased as he furiously whispered into Mason’s ear.
“But you’re not with Mason Deveraux now,” the foreman said, sounding confused, and I wondered if we’d just gone off-script. The other prosecutor might be here to make this all look proper, but there was no doubt that Mason had scripted the questions.
“No,” I said, genuine tears filling my eyes as I continued to look at Mason. “My entire purpose last winter was to save him, but he couldn’t live with what I’d done to accomplish it.”
“He broke up with you because you talked to criminals to save him?” an older woman in the jury asked.
I turned to her in surprise, but Gary had warned me that any of the jurors could ask questions. “I’d embarrassed him.”
“But you saved his life,” the younger woman said, sounding angry. “And he broke up with you?”
Even after all these months, it still smarted, and if I was driving this dagger in, I figured I might as well angle it to kill. I held her gaze, a genuine tear slipping down my cheek as I said, “He proposed to me at Jaspers, but someone snatched me on my way to the bathroom. J.R. had arranged to have me kidnapped. If Skeeter Malcolm’s men hadn’t been watching the restaurant to keep an eye on me, I might have been killed. One of them followed me to the cabin where I was being held hostage and rescued me. After that, he took me to Skeeter.”
I made some slight changes to the story, but they were mostly omissions. I considered it an acceptable version of the truth.
“J.R. had planned to kill Mason that night,” I continued, “but I convinced Skeeter to save Mason, which he did. Then we cooked up the idea of setting a meeting with J.R. in which I’d try to get him to admit to criminal activities so we could capture it all with a wire. Mason was on board, but at the last minute he said he couldn’t go through with it and left. So Jed Carlisle and I took a meeting with J.R. Simmons and Mick Gentry, while Skeeter listened in through a wire. J.R. killed Mick Gentry and then held me hostage. Joe Simmons and Mason both showed up with sheriff deputies, and I shot J.R. in the leg. That was when he was finally apprehended.” I took a deep breath, casting a glance at Mason, then shifted my attention back to the jury. “Mason broke up with me a few days later. He said he couldn’t trust me.”
“You were nearly killed trying to protect him, and he broke up with you?” another woman asked, sounding outraged.
One of the male jurors leaned forward and turned sideways to face the woman. “She broke the law.”
“To save him!” a third woman protested.
A quick glance told me that the women outnumbered the men, and they—along with a few men—sent looks of disgust to Mason.
They questioned me for another half hour, but the pall of Mason’s betrayal hung over the rest of the questioning. None of the names of the men I’d made deals with popped up, and I gave Mason a long, dark look on my way out.
Go to hell, Mason Deveraux, I thought. And Skeeter Malcolm can join you there.
CHAPTER 30
J oe and Gary were waiting for me outside the courtroom. Gary looked hungry for answers, while Joe wanted to comfort me, but I shook him off. Still, I let him join us when Gary led me to the same conference room where Carter had interrogated and insulted me. I told them everything, from what I’d been asked to the line of questioning that had skewed toward Joe for a time before things took a turn.
“And you’re sure most of the jury was on your side?” Gary asked.
“All the
women and most of the men. The foreman finally gave up.”
“And Deveraux?” Joe asked.
“He looked properly humiliated.”
Gary seemed relieved. “This grand jury was specifically set up to investigate the Sugar Branch police corruption. And while they could have broadened the scope of their investigation if they’d found anything worth digging into—which I’m certain he was hoping would happen—it sounds like the only thing they’ll be digging is Mason Deveraux’s grave.” He gave me a wide grin and stood. “It’s not entirely official, but I’m calling it. You’re a free woman, Rose Gardner.”
He held out his hand to shake, but I got up and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d only had Carter Hale’s say-so. I wish I’d known you a lot sooner.”
He hugged me back, then said, “There’s always the malpractice case and a potential extortion case against Malcolm for threatening you if you don’t abort.”
I pushed out a sigh. “He’s bluffin’.”
“Rose,” Joe protested.
I gave him a sad smile. “He’s bluffin’.”
WE HAD a celebratory dinner that night—Neely Kate and Jed, Joe, Carly, me, and Vi. Violet looked more exhausted than usual, but she seemed relieved by our assurance that I was safe from the legal system. Although she hadn’t shown any signs of coming down with a cold yet, I knew it was still too soon to tell.
Jed carried Violet upstairs, and Joe and Carly went with them, leaving Neely Kate and me in the living room. Neely Kate flicked on the TV to watch a cooking show.
“There’s a great idea,” she said as a chef started frying shrimp in a pan.
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. This wasn’t Chopped and the chef was cooking Cajun food.
“You want to try Cajun food?” I asked in a hopeful tone.
“We’re close enough to Cajun country that my food truck could sell a fusion of Cajun and German food.”
“What?”
A huge grin lit up her face as she pulled out her phone to start dictating recipe ideas into her note app. I handled it okay until she mentioned sauerkraut and anchovies.
Come Rain or Shine: Rose Gardner Investigations #5 (Rose Gardner Investigatons) Page 28
