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Authors: Nancy Taylor Rosenberg

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BOOK: Revenge of Innocents
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“Drew Campbell is our killer,” Hank said, taking a seat beside Carolyn. “We got Benny to bring in the records from the motel. The place itself is part of our problem. With a guy running it whose brains are fried, you can imagine what a sorry state their records are in. The credit card receipts aren’t linked to specific rooms, just the names of the guests and the dates of their stay. The owner died, so the motel has been in probate for three years. The attorney I spoke to says the new owners are going to tear it down and build a strip mall.”

“Did you show the clerk Drew’s picture?”

“That’s the good news I was about to tell you,” Mary said, twisting her shoulder-length hair into a knot at the base of her neck. “Benny says Drew looks familiar. He has no idea if he rented him a room, or if he ran into him in the grocery store. This guy is such a piss-poor witness, I doubt if Kevin Thomas will put him on the stand. The defense would destroy him, and we’d end up worse off than if we didn’t use him.” She doodled on her notepad, then looked up. “We could rehab Benny before Kevin talks to him. You know, sober him up, get him some decent clothes, throw some cash at him. If we coach him, he might remember renting Drew a room the day of the murder.”

Carolyn turned ashen. “You didn’t say that, did you?”

“No,” Mary said, dead serious. “And you didn’t hear it.”

Hank shot her a stern look. “I want this asshole as much as you do, Mary, but we’ve got to play by the rules.”

Mary exploded, standing and hurling a file across the room. “Drew didn’t play by the rules when he shot his wife in the head. Was he playing by the rules when he raped and beat his daughter? I’m not going to stand by and let this guy walk just because he can afford to hire a top-flight attorney. I’ll take him out myself if we can’t make a case against him.”

Gary Conrad had come in without anyone noticing. He ducked, ending up in a paper blizzard. “Hey,” he said, “are we having fun, Mary, or are you trying to tell me something? PMS, right? Are you women all on the same schedule? Jeez, my wife was on a rampage this morning, too.”

Mary glared at him and stormed out. Carolyn followed her, finding her in the ladies’ room, holding on to the sink and sobbing.

“I’m all right,” she said. “I haven’t been getting enough sleep.”

Carolyn had never seen her that upset. “It happened to you, didn’t it?”

Mary linked eyes with her, wiping the tears away with her fingers. “Is it that obvious?”

“Not really. I’ve talked to a lot of rape victims. How old were you?”

“Ten,” the detective said, sucking in a deep breath. “My older brother…we shared the same room. At first, I didn’t know it was wrong. No one talked about those kinds of things in our house. My dad was a cop and my mom taught Sunday school. When I was thirteen, Jordan was killed when his school bus crashed into a brick wall during a rainstorm. I thought it was my fault because I’d prayed so hard for him to stop hurting me.” She reached over and clasped Carolyn’s hand. “Promise me you won’t tell Hank and the others. If the men sense even an iota of weakness…”

“I understand,” Carolyn told her. “Take your time. I’ll see you back in the conference room.” She walked toward the door, then turned back around. “Can I ask you just one question? If you don’t want to answer it, tell me.”

Mary reached in her purse and pulled out her lipstick. “Go ahead.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

“No.”

“Why?”

The detective smiled. “That’s two questions.” She finished applying her lipstick, slipping it back into her purse. “I didn’t tell because I was afraid. I was certain my parents would hate me. Jordan told me it was my fault. I was scared of the dark, so I used to climb into bed with him. After he died, of course, there was no reason to tell anyone.”

“Thanks,” Carolyn said. “Just so you’ll know, I feel the same way you do. I couldn’t live with myself if I let the person who killed Veronica get away with it. She was my best friend, although I wasn’t always hers. That’s the cross I have to carry. There’s one more thing.”

Mary undid her hair, fluffing it out with her fingers. Her beautiful face was surrounded by ebony curls. She checked her appearance in the mirror, then gave Carolyn her full attention.

“Before we both go out gunning for Drew,” Carolyn told her, “let’s make certain he’s guilty.”

“When do you have to leave today?”

“I promised Brad I’d be back by noon.”

“It’s almost ten,” Mary told her. “Stockton should be at the Circuit City in the Esplanade Shopping Center. Want to come with me?”

“Absolutely.”

CHAPTER 13

Friday, October 15

10:30
A
.
M
.

M
ary Stevens was dressed in a pair of tight-fitting black pants and an orange knit blouse, which showed off her shapely figure. She was the kind of woman whose looks and presence instantly captured people’s attention, and she didn’t mind using them to her advantage. Several people turned and stared as the detective whisked past them, Carolyn trailing behind unnoticed.

“Stockton sells car stereos,” Mary whispered in her throaty voice. “Let’s play him before we pull out our badges.”

She headed toward a well-built young male. “Hi,” she said, her eyes drifting to his name tag to confirm it was Stockton. “My friend and I are looking to upgrade our system. Got any recommendations?”

Jude had good taste, Carolyn thought, sizing up her boyfriend. She estimated Stockton’s height as slightly over six feet. He must be an athlete, as his muscles strained inside the fabric of his white shirt. His hair was neatly trimmed, and his facial features were nicely proportioned. His dark eyes were large and fringed with thick lashes.

“What kind of system do you have now?”

“I think it’s a Pioneer,” Mary answered. “Our car’s ten years old, so all we’ve got is a tape deck.”

Stockton became animated. “You should get a system that’s Sirius-ready, with a built-in amplifier and MP3/WMA playback capabilities. If it was me, I’d buy an Alpine. It’s an excellent product, and it’s reasonably priced.” He went over to one of the displays, pushing the
PLAY
button. When nothing happened, his body tensed. “How the hell do they expect us to sell this shit if the demos don’t work?”

Mary exchanged glances with Carolyn before she turned back to Stockton. “You’re something of a hothead, aren’t you? I doubt if your manager would approve of you talking like that in front of a customer.”

He thrust his chest forward, his face shifting into hard lines. “Go buy your fucking stereo somewhere else. I’m trying to earn money to go to college. What are you two, anyway? Lesbians?”

“No, Reggie,” Mary said, opening her jacket where her badge was clipped on her belt. “We’re cops. How does that grab you?” So he wouldn’t cause a scene in the store, she grabbed his hand and pressed it downward until he winced. “Let’s go outside where we can talk.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“Not yet,” she said, releasing him. “Cooperate and you might not have to spend the night in the county jail. It won’t look good on your college application, know what I mean?”

After they placed Stockton in the back of the unmarked police unit, Carolyn slid into the passenger seat and turned sideways so she could see his face. Mary connected with the young man’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Stockton tried one of the doors and found it locked. When he realized he couldn’t roll down the window, either, he slapped back in the seat.

This must be his first time in a police car, Carolyn decided. “When did you start dating Jude Campbell?”

“Shit,” he said, his voice a high-pitched whine, “is that what this is about? I was never with Jude. She’s psycho, man. She went around school telling everyone we were together. My girlfriend and I got into a big fight because of her. She broke up with me and skipped town. She said Jude was stalking her. Jude even passed her a note at school the other day saying she was going to kill her.”

“What was your girlfriend’s name?” Mary asked, craning her neck around.

“Haley Snodgrass.”

“Do you know where can we contact her?”

“No,” Stockton said, his face glistening with perspiration. “Haley must have really freaked out. She took off a few days ago. She didn’t tell anyone where she was going. Talk to her parents.”

Mary said, “Tell me more about Jude. Was she into drugs?”

“What wasn’t she into?” he said. “She had sex with almost every guy at Ventura High. There were rumors that she’d had three abortions, and that she let the guys from the navy base in Port Heuneme do her for money.”

Carolyn inserted herself into the conversation. “Are you aware that Jude’s mother was murdered?”

“Yeah,” Stockton said. “Are you the same cops who called my mom? She’s scared to death of the police. I was a good student. You can check my records. I even got a partial scholarship to UC Irvine. It isn’t enough, though.” He kicked the back of the seat. “That’s why I had to take a year off and work at this lousy job. We lost everything in the hurricane. I refuse to take my mom’s money. My dad would have taken care of us, but the cops shot him.”

“The New Orleans PD?” Carolyn asked.

“Who do you think? The rotten bastards were shooting people, robbing people, raping women. It was a madhouse down there. I mean, if you ever wonder what hell is like, just look at the pictures. All my dad was doing was rummaging around on the street, trying to find us some food and water. Four cops drove by and popped him for absolutely no reason.”

“Are you certain it was the police?”

Stockton brushed his finger under his nose, a muscle in his eyelid twitching. “I was standing just a few feet away, along with five other people. After everything was over, two of the cops were busted, but only for looting. We never found out where the other witnesses went. For all I know, they died. There were dead bodies all over the place.”

“Look,” Mary said. “I’m going to let you go back to work so you don’t lose your job. We may want to ask you some more questions, so don’t leave town. Here’s my card. If you think of anything else that might be helpful, give us a call.” She removed a second card and a pen, then handed them to Stockton. “I’m sure you have a cell. Write down your number. That way, we won’t have to disturb your mother if we need to get in touch with you again.”

Stockton hesitated, then scribbled something on the back of Mary’s card. He started to hand it back to her, but she told him to leave it on the seat. Once he did, she got out and opened the back door for him, placing her hand on his head to keep him from bumping it on the top of the police car.

Waiting until he was inside the store, she told Carolyn to get her an evidence bag from the glove box. With the tips of her fingers, she picked up the card and deposited it inside the plastic. “Well, we got his fingerprints,” Mary said once she’d climbed back in the driver’s seat. “What do you think?”

“The poor kid has been through hell.”

“I’m not talking about Katrina,” the detective said. “Do you think he’s telling the truth about Jude?”

“He seemed forthright.” Carolyn stared out the front window. “He didn’t display any of the classic tells you see when a person is lying. Something bothered me, though. I’m not convinced everything he told us was the truth.”

“No one tells the complete truth. And this guy will never trust a cop again.” Mary cranked the ignition, but she left the car idling as she thought. “Did you notice how he kept his hands in his lap the whole time? He was trying not to touch anything. Stockton may look like an average, clean-cut young man, but I don’t think that’s the case. A person who’s seen and been through the kind of things Stockton has must be emotionally scarred. And he’s shrewd, just like our killer. He knew I wanted his fingerprints. The problem was he didn’t know how to get out of it without giving himself away.”

“But the clerk didn’t ID him.”

“The clerk is a pothead, remember? And he did ID Stockton eventually. The person we need to find is Haley Snodgrass. I know you have to get back to your office, so I’ll track down her address and see what her parents have to say.”

“Let’s say Stockton did rent the room,” Carolyn said, fastening her seat belt. “What motive would he have to kill Veronica?”

“If what he said about Jude being infatuated with him is true, he might have rented the motel room because he wanted to set her straight, and didn’t want anyone to see them together. Then he lost his temper and beat the shit out of her. Now if we pick up the story the way Jude tells it, substituting Stockton for Drew, she could have called her mother for help somewhere before or after the beating. With his distrust of police, Stockton might go to all kinds of extremes to stay out of jail.”

“I get it,” Carolyn said, excited. “Veronica shows up after Jude escapes, finds Stockton in the room. She demands to know where her daughter is. They struggle. Stockton gets her gun away and shoots her. You know what that means?”

“Yeah,” Mary said, looking behind her as she backed out of the parking space. “Drew may be innocent. Jude could have manufactured the sexual abuse story because she was pissed at him for throwing her out. She might also have done it to protect Stockton. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen an abused female cover for the male batterer.”

“His girlfriend dumped him,” Carolyn continued, “and by his own admission, Jude was an easy lay. He could have taken her to the motel to have sex with her. Maybe Jude tried to turn their encounter into something it wasn’t and Stockton lost it.” She placed a palm on her forehead. “God, we took Drew’s children away. I feel terrible. I should be comforting Drew, not persecuting him.”

The detective reached over and patted her hand. “Don’t feel bad, sugar. The odds are stacked that Drew is guilty. I was a victim myself, remember? Jude was telling the truth. I’d bet my life on it. It makes perfect sense for Drew to kick her out. He knew if anyone saw the bruises, they’d start asking questions and he’d end up a suspect in Veronica’s murder. The nanny did it for me. He didn’t even wait for his wife’s funeral to start priming a new victim. What other excuse would he have to move Stacy into his bedroom?”

“Then how does Stockton fit into the picture?”

“He probably has nothing to do with it,” Mary said. “All guys his age are hotheads. If a cop had killed my father, I wouldn’t want the police to have my fingerprints.”

“We forgot to ask Gary what he found out from Jude’s school records.”

“Speak for yourself,” Mary said. “I talked to him while you were busy with Hank. Jude has a extensive history of absenteeism, going all the way back to the fifth grade. Gary’s going to follow up and speak to the family doctor. As far as Stockton is concerned, all we’ve been doing is speculating. We’ve barely cracked the surface in this case. Right now, everyone is guilty.”

“Gee,” Carolyn said, smiling, “you sound like Brad Preston. He said the same exact thing to me the other day.”

“Preston is a prick. A righteously handsome prick, but nonetheless, a prick.”

“You went out with him, didn’t you?”

“What is this?” Mary said, scrunching her face up. “Are you trying to get me to reveal all my secrets in one day? Yeah, I went out with him. I hate to admit it, but I even slept with him. I was about to get in over my head when I saw him with a girl who didn’t look a day over eighteen. I broke my own rule, so I guess I deserved it.”

“What’s that?”

“Never date a man who’s got a better ass than you.”

“He’s dynamite in bed, though,” Carolyn said, remembering the times they’d spent together. “Marcus is better, of course.”

“Sure he is,” Mary said, steering the car onto the ramp for the 101 Freeway. “Brad isn’t bad. He could never keep up with the brothers, though. Have you ever been with a black man?”

“No,” Carolyn said. “I was a virgin when I met Frank. I haven’t had that many lovers since we divorced. I had a date with Earl Miller from the sheriff’s department. I liked him, but he didn’t call me back.”

“You know what they say,” Mary said with a sly smile. “Once you go black, you never go back.”

Carolyn pointed her finger at her. “Now, if I’d said that, it would be considered racist.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Mary argued. “Anyway, I’m just messing with you.”

“When’s Drew’s arraignment?”

“At one this afternoon. I thought you weren’t going.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Carolyn said, glancing at her watch. “Step on it. I’ll have to check in with Brad, and it’s already twelve thirty.”

The detective floored the Crown Victoria, zigzagging through traffic as the needle on the speedometer shot to just under a hundred. When she skidded to a stop in front of the government center, Carolyn climbed out on shaky legs, feeling as if she’d just gotten off a roller coaster. She stuck her head in the window. “I’ll never ask you to step on it again, okay? Maybe you should reconsider Brad. You two are perfect for each other.”

“Oh, yeah,” Mary said, laughing. “Brad baby has to go to a racetrack. I can speed any time I feel like it. It’s one of the perks of being a cop.”

BOOK: Revenge of Innocents
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