If It Walks Like A Killer (The Carolina Killer Files #1) (7 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Rachael

Rachael pressed her forehead to the cool window in the back of the car. She felt nauseous. She’d never even run a stop sign before and now she was being accused of murder. The car smelled of vomit and pee and the leather squeaked whenever she moved. 

She wanted to tell them that there must be some mistake, that they had the wrong girl. She wanted to make them understand that she couldn’t possibly have killed anyone. She needed them to listen to her, to believe her, but instead she sat quietly, letting her head hit the window with every bump they drove over. She sat silently because she couldn’t think of a single thing to say that would make sense. So many questions swam through her mind. As they drove past her studio she wondered if Caide would remember to call off practice this evening, she wondered what reason he’d give. She didn’t have time to be angry with her husband, though she was sure she should be, instead she worried. She worried about whether or not Brinley would get to school, whether he’d remember that Davis likes Cheerios more than Lucky Charms, and whether he’d remember to pick up groceries. She worried about whether he’d even make it home to feed his children and put them to bed. Her head was full of worry as they pulled into the station. The police parked the squad car and escorted her into the building. Several strangers looked at her with disgust. An officer sat her on a bench and handcuffed her there before walking away. Rachael sat for several hours, her stomach growling, before someone finally approached her.

“Come with me,” said the young cop, unhooking her from the bench, and leading her to a room she recognized immediately.

“Stand by the wall and hold this. I’m going to take your mug shot.”

Rachael felt tears rush to her eyes once more. She quickly brushed them away, walking to do as she was told. Once the pictures were taken the cop grabbed her arm once more. She led Rachael into a room with no doors, only several stalls with benches.

“Open up.” She held out a long Q-Tip. Rachael opened her mouth, trying not to gag as the officer swiped her cheek. She held out another one, wiping in between each of Rachael’s fingers.

“Empty your pockets into this bag, then change into these.” She stepped back, making no attempt to give Rachael any privacy and laid an orange jumpsuit on the bench. Rachael emptied her pockets, pulling out a wadded up tissue from wiping Davis’ nose the night before, and a pony tail holder. She placed them into the plastic bag and began undressing. Her hands shook as she took each item of clothing off, trying to maintain what little dignity she had left. She was standing in only her bra and panties when the cop laughed. “All of it off.”

She removed the rest of her clothing, covering herself with one hand and reaching for the orange jumpsuit. The officer pushed it back with her foot, shaking her head. “Squat down and cough.”

Rachael’s face flushed from embarrassment.

“Look, if you don’t do it, I’ll have to search you. This is a lot easier on us both.”

Rachael nodded, still trying to cover herself. She bent her knees, grabbing onto the wall to keep from falling down. She coughed.

“Again.”

She coughed again, her face burning from humiliation.

The cop handed her the jumpsuit and she anxiously threw it on. She handed her clothing over to be shoved into another bag. The officer led Rachael to a cell and shut the door behind her. The cell was tiny, less than half the size of the ones Rachael had seen on TV. There was a toilet in the corner with no means of privacy in place and a small bed with sheets that smelled of body odor and mildew even from where Rachael stood. Rachael sat on the floor next to a puddle of something wet. She drew pictures in the dirt, allowing her mind to travel to places far away from the four walls surrounding her.

Chapter Fifteen

Caide

Caide sat in the office of Mason and Meachum’s biggest competitor. His legs shook from anticipation. A secretary with red hair and a warm smile approached him. “Mr. Hampton will see you now.”

Caide stood up, wiping the sweat from his hands onto his pants. He followed her through three ordinary looking conference rooms into Mr. Hampton’s office.

“Mr. Hampton, this is Caide Abbott.”

Argus Hampton looked up from his desk. His face was stern, his eyes distant and cold. The thick, dark hair he boasted in his commercials was salt and pepper now, thinning a bit at the top. He stood, shaking Caide’s hand firmly. “Mr. Abbott, it’s nice to meet you.” He waved his secretary on and gestured for Caide to have a seat.

“What can I help you with today?”

“First of all, I think you should know that I work for Mason and Meachum Law Office. You may have heard about the employee we lost yesterday.”

Hampton neither confirmed nor denied that he’d heard, so Caide continued. “They brought me in for questioning yesterday. I answered their questions honestly but they still believed I had something to do with Blaire’s murder. This morning every cop in town shows up at my door and I assumed they were there for me. Instead they arrested my wife. I don’t know why or what they have on her but she’s being held in the county jail and they won’t let me see her. My bosses won’t represent her because it would be a conflict of interest. I know how successful you are. You’re our biggest competition and I know the types of cases you win. We need the best that there is and that’s you. Rachael didn’t do this. I know my wife. She couldn’t do this.” Caide said it again, turning the phrase around in his mind, forcing himself to believe it.

Hampton nodded, showing no emotion. “You’re saying they arrested her on the spot? They didn’t bring her in for questioning first?”

Caide shook his head.

Hampton’s face told Caide how bad it was. “I’ll tell you what, let me run down to the station and see her. I’ll try and get her out on bail and find out what it is they’ve got on her.”

Caide nodded his head, relief washing over him.

“Leave your number with my secretary, and my check. My retainer fee is twenty-five thousand and I’m worth it. I’ll call you as soon as I have news.”

Caide stood to leave. “Thank you so much. I’ll pay you whatever it takes for you to focus on this case. I need my wife back.”

Hampton nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”

***

Rachael

Brady Clemmons, the man in the cell next to Rachael had stolen his girlfriend’s car and ran her over with it. Rachael sat against the cool metal bars of her cell listening to him talk. He told her how he’d been in the Marines for eight years, how he’d grown up in Southern Georgia. He told her about walking to the grocery store in the mornings with his grandma when he was young and how his pet German Shepard had passed away from cancer. Rachael listened to his voice as it traveled through time. She heard his voice crack as he spoke of his best friend’s last hours in the war and the laughter in his voice as he talked about the night he graduated from high school. He told the stories well and it was easy for her to forget what he’d done.

Suddenly a buzzer sounded in the hallway and Rachael heard the door open. Brady and Rachael looked up to see a man walking toward them. He was stern looking, his salt and pepper hair was slicked back, and his suit looked a size too big. There was something about his presence though, that made the room fall silent. He commanded respect.

He approached Rachael right away, turning angrily to the officer following him, “Is there somewhere I can speak to my client? Alone?”

The officer pointed to a door off of the hallway and opened Rachael’s cell. The man led her into the room, shutting the door behind them. He sat down at a table in the center of the room, avoiding Rachael’s confused stare.

“Sit,” he said firmly.

“I don’t understand.”

“Put your butt in this chair.”

Rachael sat obediently. “I know what ‘sit’ means. I meant I don’t understand why you’re here. I didn’t ask for a lawyer.”

“Your husband hired me. You can waive council if you’d like but it’d be a mistake.” He flipped through his paperwork. “My name is Argus Hampton. Your husband’s bosses kindly refused to represent you so he sought me. Wise choice. I’m going to do everything I can to help you. I just have a few rules we need to go over first: number one, do not tell me that you’re guilty. I don’t want to know. It’s not going to change the way I represent you. Two, don’t lie to me. Those rules almost always counteract each other, be sure you don’t break either. I’m not going to ask you anything that isn’t pertinent to your case. If I ask you and you lie to me, you will be the one to suffer, not me. I can’t tell anyone anything you don’t want me to, so be honest. I need you to trust me and tell me what I need to know—
only
what I need to know. You will do exactly what I say. When we go to court, we will practice your testimony and you will stick with what we practice. No surprises. If you stray from the path I lay out for you, you will deal with the aftermath. Any questions?”

A million.
She shook her head no.

“Good. Now, I have a few. How did you know the victim?”

“She worked with my husband.”

“How was your marriage?”

“Fine.”

He raised his eyebrows. “If you’re going to start breaking my rules already I’ll just go ahead and leave.”

Rachael grabbed his arm instinctively as he stood to exit. “No. I’m sorry. Don’t leave. My marriage is—”

“I don’t have time for niceties.”

“My marriage is falling apart,” she cried, “I love my husband. I do, but he puts so much focus on work and I focus on our kids. We’re like business partners more than anything.”

“How long had you known about the affair? Was it his first?”

The affair.
“Excuse me?”

“The affair between your husband and the victim. How long had you known?”

So this is what it feels like when your world comes crashing down.
“I—I didn’t.”

“You didn’t? You didn’t what?”

Rachael cleared her throat. “I didn’t know my husband was having an affair.”

“I asked you not to lie to me.”

Rachael swallowed hard, trying to keep her tears at bay. She was silent, trying to think back. Could it be true? Caide and Blaire?

“You know,” Hampton told her, “You play the hurt wife card pretty well. We can use that in court for sure.”

Rachael wiped her cheek. “I’m telling you I didn’t know. I didn’t know he was having an affair. You told me not to tell you I’m guilty because you already assume I am. You’ve accused me of lying to you twice in the five minutes since we’ve met. How can I trust you if you don’t extend me the same courtesy? I didn’t do this. I didn’t kill her, for the record, and I didn’t know my husband was having an affair until just now. I’m trying to hold it together but my life is falling apart all around me and I’d just appreciate it if you could at least pretend to be a little sensitive.”

“We don’t have time for sensitive. They’re pushing your case to court quickly. Look, I know I said I don’t want you to admit guilt but they have proof. Apparently, pretty damn good proof. I’m going to try and get you on a crime of passion charge, a few years and then good behavior could lead to parole. I’m going to do what I can for you, whatever I can, but you can quit playing innocent and save us a lot of time.”

“I’m telling you I didn’t do this. They can’t have proof. They’re bluffing.”

“They aren’t bluffing, okay? Not about this. Your court date is being scheduled for next week. You will stay here until then, they’ve already denied you bail. After trial you will be taken to federal prison. Look, whatever they have on you, it was enough to decide that a first time offender didn’t even deserve bail. I’m going to play off of that. You are a first time offender, you’ve got an impeccably clean record, and your husband, whom you love more than anything, the man whom you share a home with, and the father of your two children was having an affair. People will sympathize with you. We’ll say you were distraught, you snapped, I’ll train you on what to say.”

“You’re going to train me to plead guilty to a murder I didn’t commit?”

“I’m telling you that’s the only way to get a crime of passion verdict. You were out of your mind with jealousy and you’re sorry.”

She slapped the table firmly. “Mr. Hampton, with all due respect, I won’t confess. If that’s your legal advice I’d be better off representing myself. I won’t admit to something I’m not guilty of.”

“Then you will go to prison for a long time. This is my legal advice. That is what will help you. If you don’t want my help then I’m done here.”

Rachael stood up, her arms crossed. “Take me back to my cell. Tell my husband I want someone else, anyone else.”

“Trust me, no one else will take this case. It’s too much of a risk. You’ll get stuck with a public defender who’s too overworked and underpaid to remember which case he’s working on. I want to help you, Mrs. Abbott. I’d do anything I can.”

“Anything short of believing in me is not what I need.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” she huffed, walking to the door. She didn’t speak to him as he walked her back to her cell.

An officer stood waiting to let her back in. Hampton looked at her as he shut the door. “Take care of yourself, kid.”

She stared at him, hatred burning through her. She refused to look away until he was out of the hallway. Once he was gone she sank into the wall, the cold concrete scraping her skin the whole way down.