If It Walks Like A Killer (The Carolina Killer Files #1) (8 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Caide

“Thanks again, Corie, I hope they weren’t too much trouble.”

“They were great, Mr. A. Although they kept asking about Rachael. Is everything all right?”

“It will be. I should be off the next few days, so we probably won’t need you. I’ll let you know if that changes.”

Corie nodded, walking toward the door. “Oh, Mr. A.?”

“Yeah?”

“You should know that your children missed you today too. It wasn’t just Rachael they asked about. They really miss you some days.” She paused. “Oh, and today at nap Davis had some nightmares. If you give him some milk and sit with him he’s usually okay. Oh, and if you sing to him he’ll fall right to sleep. He’ll always ask for a story, but that just keeps him awake longer.”

“Thanks, Corie.” Caide shut the door behind her gently. He thought about turning on the TV but was worried he’d see something about the case that would make it all worse. Instead he walked to the front porch, looking up at the stars. The peace of the moment allowed the day’s events to flood his mind. He felt cool tears brim his eyes, not honestly sure who he was crying for.

Interrupting his thoughts, he heard his phone ringing from the living room. His immediate thought was that Rachael would answer it. On the second ring he realized she wasn’t coming and bolted inside. He grabbed the phone off the couch. It was Hampton.

“Mr. Hampton, what did you find out? Did you see her?”

There was silence on the other line for a brief second while he heard Hampton take a breath. “I did see her. I’m afraid I don’t have good news. The judge refused bail and her trial is set for next Tuesday.”

“What?” Caide gasped, rubbing his head in frustration. “What do they have on her?”

“The prosecutor wasn’t there and I couldn’t get in to see the judge. Whatever it is, her record’s perfect, Caide. For them to hold her without bail, well I’m just not sure what I can do.”

“I just don’t understand what I’m missing.”

“Caide, you know as well as I do this isn’t looking good. I’m meeting with the judge tomorrow to find out what we’re up against. I think you should know, I advised her to take a plea bargain, one for a crime of passion. I think she’d have a real chance at getting a low sentence.”

Caide paused before answering. “You think she’s guilty?”

“All I know is what the cops could tell me. That there’s proof you were having an affair and they have evidence that your wife killed your mistress. I’m telling you that by the looks of it: a quick arrest, no bond, and a speedy court date, it sounds like they’ve got quite a lot to convict her. In my professional opinion, pleading out may be her only option.”

“Find out what they have on her. Find out what they have before I’ll agree with you. I hear what you’re saying. I know what this looks like but I just need to know what they’ve got.”

Hampton agreed. “Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow once I’ve heard their case.”

Caide hung up the phone, his heart feeling heavy.

Could the woman he married have killed the woman he loved?

Chapter Seventeen

Hampton

Argus Hampton walked into Judge Daniel Crafton’s chambers to find a familiar face. Jeanna Avery was a very powerful prosecutor with a winning record that lawyers everywhere envied. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun and her suit had been neatly pressed. She turned to him, nodding, “Hampton.”

“Avery. Good morning, Judge Crafton.”

“Morning, Hampton, take a seat. We have a lot to go over and I have to be out of here by ten.”

Hampton sat down, trying to read the look on Avery’s face.

“So, we’re meeting to go over evidence on the trial of,” he looked down at a file on his desk, “The State vs. Rachael Abbott. Charges against her being?”

“Murder one,” Avery answered.

“Right. We have a bit of evidence to go over. Avery, whenever you’re ready.”

“On November 12 at 9:18 a.m. a 9-1-1 call was received from the Law Office of Mason and Meachum, located at 118 North Raymond Street. Mr. Chester Mason reported that an employee of his was found dead on the bathroom floor of his office. Upon further investigation it was found that Blaire Underwood, a secretary for the law office, had been brutally beaten over the head and murdered. The M.E. confirmed that the crime scene was where the murder had taken place. Her autopsy showed blunt force trauma to the parietal, occipital, and left temporal lobe, causing severe bleeding and swelling of the brain. The fatal hit was determined to be to the parietal lobe. Ms. Underwood was dead within an hour.”

She paused, glancing over her notes. “The murder weapon was a triangle shaped object, with one point being deeper than the rest, later determined to be the metal soap dispenser which contained fragments of the victim’s hair, scalp, and blood. We also found blood not belonging to the victim on the soap dispenser. The owners of the law firm reported that they had left that evening around seven, leaving only three associates in the building: the victim, Caide Abbott, and Abbott’s assistant, Brian Sparks. Mr. Abbott had missed work the day of the investigation so his assistant was interrogated. He revealed that Mr. Abbott had allowed him to leave shortly after seven, leaving only the victim and Mr. Abbott in the building. Shortly after the officers were able to locate and interrogate Mr. Abbott he revealed that he and the victim had been in a relationship. According to the coroner, the death occurred at approximately 8:30 p.m.”

Avery checked her notes once more. “We requested copies of the security footage from the office that night. After examining the security tapes,” she paused for dramatic effect before continuing, “we discovered that Caide Abbott had in fact left the office at 7:45 p.m., just as he said, with the victim very much alive. We also discovered that they had not, in fact, been alone in the office like they had thought. The security cameras are not in place in the back of the building, which is how we believe Mrs. Abbott must have arrived, however the tapes do show her watching her husband and the victim having intercourse. After her husband left she approached the victim, led her into the bathroom, and left fifteen minutes later. The victim never left the bathroom. Upon her arrest, Rachael Abbott provided a DNA sample. We received word an hour ago that she is a positive match for the blood on the murder weapon.”

Hampton swallowed, rubbing his jaw. “Oh. Is that all?”

Avery smiled. “That’s all.”

“You think that warrants first degree murder? C’mon. People are going to pity her. There will be women in the jury, wives who’ve been cheated on. Tell me you’ll consider a plea bargain.”

“Sympathy or not, it was a good thirty minutes before we see Mrs. Abbott approach the victim, after she’d seen them in action. That’s premeditation, even more so if we can prove that’s why she went there in the first place.” She thought for a moment. “I’d consider a plea for ten years plus probation.”

“For a crime of passion? You’ve lost your mind. Try three years.”

“This isn’t up for negotiation, Hampton. Ten years and probation or no deal. Our case is solid.”

He thought for a moment. “Fine. Let me talk to my client. I’ll get back to you by the end of the day.”

“Don’t leave me hanging on this, Hampton. If I don’t hear by the end of the day, the deal is off.”

“I’ll call you,” he said to Avery. “It was good to see you, Judge Crafton.”

“You too, Hampton. Take care.”

The judge waved farewell as Hampton exited his chambers and headed to his car. He climbed in cursing aloud, hitting the steering wheel. He could kiss his latest winning streak goodbye.

***

Rachael

Rachael heard a knocking sound somewhere in the distance.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
She opened her eyes and rubbed sleep from them. A young police officer was beating on her cell door.

“Wake up,” he yelled, apparently annoyed. “You have a visitor.”

Rachael sat up, praying for just a second that it might be Caide bringing good news. Instead she found herself looking into a face she’d hoped to never see again.

She walked to the cell door. “We have nothing left to discuss.”

He stared into her eyes. “I met with the judge and the prosecutor today. You’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”

Rachael backed up, allowing her door to be opened. The officer grabbed hold of her arm firmly. She could feel her wrist bruising from being grabbed so often in the same spot. She allowed him to shove her down the hallway into the room where she’d met Hampton before.

“So what did you find out?” she asked as they entered the room.

Hampton paused, pulling out a chair and waiting for her to take a seat.

“After reviewing the evidence against you, I have to stick with my original suggestion. A plea bargain is going to be your best bet. They’ve offered us ten years. I’d hoped for less, but it’s certainly better than twenty-five to life. I think it’s a fair deal.”

Rachael exploded, “Didn’t I tell you no? Didn’t I tell you I won’t plead guilty to a crime I didn’t commit? I won’t do it. I want you to fight for me. Even if you don’t actually believe me, I’d like you to fight for me like you do.”

“Rachael, with the evidence they have you won’t walk on this.”

“What evidence? What could they possibly have on me? I’m innocent.”

“They have you on tape,” he blurted out.

“What?” She took a breath, clutching her chest.

“They have you on tape taking the victim into the room where she was murdered and then leaving alone. They have your DNA on the murder weapon. If this case goes to trial you will go to prison for a whole lot longer. So, I’m telling you, I’m begging you, take the plea. It is your only chance.”

She stared at him indignantly. “Well then they’re lying.”

“God, woman, they’re not lying. Why would they do that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a fake tape. Those exist, right?”

“Rachael.” He looked at her seriously. “I know this is scary, okay? I don’t, for one second, believe you planned this. I know that ten years seems like a long time but with good behavior we may even be able to lessen the sentence. I want to help you but you have to let me.”

“In ten years my daughter will be eighteen and my son will be twelve. I’ll have missed their whole life. How can that ever be okay?”

She sobbed aloud, standing up and walking to a corner of the room. She sank to the ground dramatically, pulling her knees into her chest. Hampton let her cry alone for a few minutes before walking over and touching her back.

“It’s going to be okay. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, trust me I do, but it will be.”

She looked up to him, unable to express how hopeless she felt. He sat down beside her. She noticed his eyes, they’d once seemed so cold, now the deep brown eyes held a kindness she’d never noticed before. “How can you possibly know it’ll be okay? My life, my marriage, it’s all over.”

A pained look filled Hampton’s face, and he let out a sigh. “It’s not, trust me. It gets better.”

“You couldn’t possibly know that.”

“My wife cheated on me too. You’re not the only one,” he huffed.

She looked at him, her eyes wide.

“Yeah, so I know how it feels. The pain goes away after a while. Prison isn’t ideal, I know, but I promise you I’ll work on getting your sentence lessened.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. It’s no big deal. I just wanted you to know I’ve been there. Hell, most people have been there.”

She wiped a tear. “Is it crazy to still love him?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Did you still love her?”

“For a while.”

“Tell me what happened. Please. It’ll make me feel better.”

“Hearing about my pain will make you feel better?” He laughed.

“Misery loves company.” She smiled.

“Fine, but then you have to make a decision about the plea. I have to let them know today.”

“Deal.”

He sighed. “Diedra and I were married young. I was only seventeen at the time. We were good together, but she wanted a family more than anything and I wanted to focus on school and my career. We fought about that.”

He looked into space. “We started fighting too much. One day she told me if I wouldn’t give her a family, she’d leave me. I still remember that look in her eyes: wild, ravaged. It told me she was serious. So, I gave in. We tried for two years with no luck. Finally, one day she comes to me and tells me she’s pregnant. It was so out of the blue. We were in the car and she just blurted it out. It was the best feeling. I didn’t realize until that moment how much I wanted to be a dad.”

Rachael’s mind drifted with his story. He seemed to have forgotten where he was and who he was talking to. She rested her head on the wall behind them.

“Anyway, when she was about eight months along I got sick, I couldn’t keep anything down and I lost a bunch of weight. I went to the doctor and they ran all of their tests. They told me that I had testicular cancer. Apparently it had been there for a while, and the hormone imbalance that helped to cause it had also caused me to be sterile. He told me I’d never be able to have kids, that I’d
never been
able to have kids.”

He stared at his hands, squeezing his fists together. “Of course I told him something must be wrong with his tests. I scheduled my surgery for the cancer and I went on my way. That night on our way home, I told my wife what he’d said and she said, ‘This is our miracle, then. God has given us a miracle baby.’ She cried the whole way home, I thought she was just happy. The night the baby was born, she went into labor while we were eating dinner. I remember suddenly feeling like I’d stepped in a puddle, it soaked through my socks and shoes. I rushed her to the hospital, and she had a quick delivery with no complications. The best luck we could’ve hoped for. When it was over and the doctor came to get me. I’ll never forget that look on his face. Confusion, fear, even pity. I thought my wife was dead. I thought I’d never see her again, so when he said he’d take me to see the baby I followed him. He took me to a room with a giant glass window where I could look at all the infants. I tried to look for my black hair or Deidra’s round nose. When I was about to give up, I spotted my name: Hampton. It was a small bed in the far left corner. In it was the most beautiful African American baby I’d ever seen—but it wasn’t our baby. ‘There must be some mistake’ I told him. He just showed me to my wife’s room without a word. I ran to her, sure she’d tell me it was a mistake or some cruel joke. Instead I found her sobbing. I walked to her bed, gathering her in my arms and rocking her while she cried. For two days I sat by her side watching her nurse and hold a baby that wasn’t mine. The day we were released from the hospital I told her I needed an explanation. She handed me the baby while she packed. She’d always liked to stay busy when she was giving bad news. She told me how she’d met a man at the library. His name was Thomas Beckett. He was going to school to be a teacher and my Deidra had always loved reading. They met at the library every day for months while I was in school. I’d been in school, busting my ass to make a better life for us, and she went off and got herself a boyfriend.”

Rachael watched him carefully, anger still on his face after all this time. He continued. “After nearly a year of them seeing each other he got accepted into a study abroad program and left. About a month later she found out she was pregnant. So, instead of telling me the baby may not be mine, she just prayed it would be. Instead of preparing me, she let me find out the hard way. The day I told her about my cancer, she’d been crying because I’d confirmed her fears. She called Beckett that night, after I’d gone to bed and told him about the baby. He told her he wasn’t in a position to help her raise a child. She was a coward and a cheater but no matter how mad I was at her I’d fallen in love with that beautiful baby, knowing that my decision to leave would decide his whole future. I remember his little fingers were so tiny, he used to wrap them around mine,” he held his hand out as if he were touching his son’s hands. “So I stayed. I raised him with her for two years. We named him Sawyer. He was the sweetest child, so happy and smart. One day I came home from work and they were just gone. She left a note on our bed, it said: ‘
Thomas came back. He wants to meet his son and make up for lost time. Thank you for all you’ve done for us.’
That was it. No apology. Just three sentences,” he scoffed.