Building Blocks of Murder (17 page)

“There’s a record of a professional stating that you’re non-violent?” Lacy clarified.

Mr. Anton nodded.

“Did you tell this information to Mr. McNeil?”

The man nodded again. “At least I think I did. Sometimes I’m not sure what’s real and what’s not. Like right now I might be dreaming. Pretty girls don’t ever come visit me. That seems like something I might make up.” He narrowed his eyes at Lacy and peered closer, touching his nose to the glass as he made his inspection.

“I’m real,” she told him.

“That’s what the dreams always say. It’s very confusing.”

“Real or dream, I’m trying to help you,” Lacy said. “Do you believe that?”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter. Mr. McNeil said he was going to get me out this time, and look how that turned out.”

“Do you know anyone who might have wanted to frame you? Do you know anything that might have led to Susan’s death or Ed McNeil’s death?” Lacy pressed.

“No, and if I did, it’s long forgotten. But I don’t think I ever did. I’m not exactly the person people tell their secrets to. I know it wasn’t much, but I lived a quiet little life getting high, and that was all. Sometimes I stole things to get money, but I never hurt anyone. I’ve never even thrown a punch. I just wanted to be left alone to enjoy my drugs, and that’s all I want now.” He looked furtively around the room. “Not that I’m on drugs now, because I’m not.”

Lacy had her doubts about that; she knew it wasn’t unheard of for criminals to have access to drugs in prison. At the very least, they had access to prescription drugs. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Anton. I want you to know that I’m looking into your case, as well as the murder of Ed McNeil. In my opinion, two men stand accused of murders they didn’t commit, and if I’m correct, then I think the same person committed both murders.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you just said, but it sounds like you don’t think the cop killed my lawyer. Don’t believe it, though. All cops are crooked.”

“Just like all druggies are murderers,” she said.

He opened his mouth to reply and left it hanging. “You just blew my mind,” he said.

She couldn’t help but laugh at his earnest tone. “That’s only fair because you’ve blown my mind today, too. Thank you for your help and your time.”

“What else do I have to do with my time?” he said, but he was smiling as he stood and shuffled away.

Lacy turned to Keegan who had remained quiet and observant throughout the interview. “What do you think?” she asked. Were his impressions and conclusions as monumental as hers?

“Maybe I’m a bleeding heart, but I don’t think he did it. And it sounds like this Ed McNeil suppressed vital information that could have led to his acquittal.”

“That’s what I think, too. The question is why? Why would Ed McNeil take his case and do such a poor job with it, not just once, but twice? According to Sheila, he passionately believed Joe was innocent and wanted to get him out, but according to Joe, he put up a lackluster defense that was so full of holes it was no wonder the man was convicted. I just don’t get Ed McNeil’s angle. Was he trying to protect someone? Sheila, maybe, or possibly the mayor? Why did he contribute to the SAD and put a stop-work order on my place? Why was he playing both sides of the fence on so many issues? Sheila painted him as some selfless individual, and his secretary,
Pearl
, was wholly devoted, but I don’t think Ed McNeil ever did anything that wasn’t for his own personal gain. But what did he have to gain by all this? I feel like if we could figure that out, then we might understand why he was murdered and who did it.”

The heavy metal jail door clanged open, and Jason stepped through. “We’ll talk about it more later,” Keegan said. “I’ll leave you alone now.” He nodded at Jason as he made his way out of the visitation room.

Jason sat, looking tired and grumpy as he picked up the phone. “Looks like things are going well between you two. When’s the wedding?”

He was spoiling for an argument, but Lacy wasn’t about to give him one by rising to take the bait. “How are you?”

“I’m pretty sure you know the answer to that question, Red. My lawyer wants me to take a plea.”

Lacy sat forward so abruptly that her chair scooted back and she had to grab the edge of the table to keep from falling off. “What?” She reached down and righted her chair with her free hand. “Jason, that’s crazy. You can’t plead for something you didn’t do.”

There was a pause before he spoke again. “You don’t think I did it?”

“Are you crazy? I know you didn’t do it. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“But the ballistics…” he trailed off and turned to look at the wall. Lacy wondered if he was trying to compose himself.

“The ballistics are wrong. Or something else is wrong. I don’t know what it is, but I’m going to figure it out.”

He looked back at her again, and he was frowning this time. “The ballistics are never wrong, Lacy. They’re like fingerprints. Each gun leaves its own striations on the bullet.”

“Who had access to your gun?”

“No one. It’s either on me or locked in my desk at home at all times. No one touched it, no one broke into my house. Nothing.” He shook his head and swiped his hand wearily over his face. “This is impossible.”

“I’m going to go to the capital and talk to the person who did the ballistics test and find out how this mistake happened. There has to be some reasonable explanation.”

“No,” Jason said, his tone vehement now. “Why won’t you listen to me when I tell you to stay out of it? It’s like beating my head against a brick. I don’t want you talking to anyone in forensics, I don’t want you talking to Joe Anton, I don’t want you sticking your nose into places that might get you killed. Do you have any idea what it’s doing to me to know you’re out there unprotected while I’m stuck in here?” He broke off and took a deep breath, swallowing hard as he gripped the phone tighter. “If you insist on pursuing this matter further, then don’t come back because I won’t see you.”

She stared at him, trying to gauge his motivation. She had no doubt that he was serious; if she kept investigating, he would refuse to see her when she tried to visit. What she couldn’t figure out was whether or not he was trying to protect her or himself. Was he trying to cut her off because he thought he was going to spend the rest of his life in jail and he didn’t want her hanging on?

“If that’s how you want to play it, then fine. Refuse my visit. But I think you know me well enough by now to realize that I’m not giving up until this thing is finished, one way or another.”

“Lacy, doesn’t it occur to you that it might be finished with your death?”

“Then at least people would know that you’re innocent.”

She jumped when he pulled the phone away from his ear and banged it on the counter a few times. “You are making me crazy,” he yelled when he put it back to his face. “Fine, martyr, you don’t care about you, but what about your new BFF? Aren’t you worried that all these hornets’ nests you’re poking are going to have an effect on him? If the pastor’s brother is learning what you’re learning, then doesn’t it stand to reason that they’re going to go after him, too?”

“Keegan is going back to
Chicago
in a couple of days.”

“Then they’ll go after the pastor.”

Now it was Lacy’s turn to swallow down her emotions. “Tosh isn’t speaking to me right now.”

Jason frowned. “Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she said, and to her embarrassment her voice quavered.

“Jerk,” Jason said, probably knowing it would make Lacy laugh, which it did. They smiled, enjoying a peaceful interlude from their heated exchange.

“When you get out of here, maybe I’ll let you beat him up,” Lacy said.

Jason laughed and shook his head. “Now I know you think I’m never getting out.”

“I don’t think that,” Lacy said seriously. “And if your lawyer thinks that, then fire him and hire another one. Or I’ll find you one. You know I’m rich. I could probably get that guy who got OJ off.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s dead now, but thanks. Or rather, no thanks. I’ll stick with my lawyer and we’ll decide together how it’s going to pan out.”

“Jason, please don’t admit to something you didn’t do.”

“You know you’re the only person who’s sure I didn’t do it. Why is that?”

“Maybe I’m the only person who really knows you,” Lacy suggested.

“Maybe so,” Jason said. He glanced at the clock on the wall and Lacy noted their allotted visitation time was almost at an end. “Lacy, would it help if I begged you to let things go?”

“No.”

He sighed. “That’s pretty much what I thought you’d say.” He took a breath, shoring himself up. “Fine. I meant what I said. If you’re intent on doing this, then don’t come back. I won’t see you.”

“Fine,” Lacy said, trying not to show how deeply his words hurt. “I guess this is goodbye, then.”

He nodded without looking at her, hung up, and turned his back as he stood waiting for the door to open. Lacy stayed frozen to the spot, watching until the heavy metal door swallowed him up, trying not to drown in hopelessness. Then she calmly hung up the phone, stood, and walked out of the jail. Instead of pausing in the lobby to talk to Keegan, she went to the sheriff’s office and pushed the intercom button, doing the one thing she had promised herself she would never do again. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth and forced out the painful words.

“Lacy Steele to see Detective Brenner, please.”

Lacy wasn’t sure if Detective Brenner would agree to see her, but he must have been able to smell crow a mile away.

“Lacy,” he said as she was led into his office. “This is a surprise, especially in light of—what did you call it—my ‘complete and utter incompetence.’”

Lacy sat and swallowed her pride. “Let’s be grownups about this. I will admit that I shouldn’t have handled my complaints in a public forum, if you will admit that you mishandled my grandmother’s case.”

“I wasn’t aware that apologies came with qualifiers,” he replied.

They glared at each other over his desk in a silent standoff, seeing who would blink first. Finally he capitulated.

“Fine, mistakes were made in your grandmother’s case.”

Lacy nodded, willing to let the past go, especially in light of present circumstances. “I came here today because I need your help. Please.”

“I assume you’re referring to Jason’s situation.”

“Yes. I need to know how the mistake with the ballistics occurred.”

“What mistake?” he asked, confused.

“I don’t know—whatever mistake indicated a match. Admittedly I’m not much of an expert on these things, but there has to be some margin of error.”

“I
am
an expert on these matters, at least enough to know when there’s been no mistake. Did you know our state uses ALIAS? That’s a 3-D imaging system for ballistics matching, and there is no margin of error.”

“But,” she tried again, and he held up a hand to interrupt.

“Look, Lacy, this is hard for all of us. None of us wanted to believe that Jason was guilty. Taking him into custody was a necessary evil. We all thought he would be out as soon as the test came back, but the forensics don’t lie. There’s just no other explanation.”

She wanted to be angry with him, but he wasn’t being his usual bombastic self. Instead he sounded sincere and sympathetic.

“I think this case is related to the Susan Pendergast case,” Lacy blurted, hoping to she hadn’t made a monumental error in judgment by trusting him.

“Of course it is. Jason is the arresting officer, and Ed McNeil was the attorney.”

“No, I mean besides the obvious connection. I think the same person killed both Susan and Ed.”

He sighed. “Lacy, that’s just not possible.” His tone was a mixture of exasperation and pity.

“I know it’s not probable, but it is possible. What if the same person who killed them also framed Jason? This is all tied up with the Stakely building somehow, too.”

“The Stakely building? What does that have to do with anything?” He was back to looking baffled.

“I bought the Stakely building, where the original murder took place, and suddenly I’m receiving threats and being followed. The same players who are involved now were involved then. I don’t know why or how, but things are connected.”

“I’ll admit there’s some coincidence there, but I think that’s all it is,” he said.

“But there has to be some way to prove a connection.” She leaned forward. “The bullet from the Pendergast murder was never recovered. What if I find it while I’m renovating? Could you run it and see if it came from the same gun that killed Ed McNeil?”

He shook his head. “The gun that killed Ed McNeil’s is Jason’s.”

“Could you run it anyway? I mean if this 3D system is such a big deal, then maybe it can tell us a lot of information about where the bullet came from.” She knew she sounded desperate; she
was
desperate.

“Fine. If, in the one in a million chance that you find a bullet that’s been missing for almost a quarter of a century, then I will run it.” He folded his hands on his desk and leaned forward. “I’m going to level with you. I don’t like civilians interfering with my cases, and I like reporters even less. I’m tolerating you because of your relationship with Jason. He’s a good kid, and he was a good officer. But you’re in over your head here, and you’re grasping at straws.”

“I don’t disagree with anything you said. I have no idea what I’m doing. All I know is that Jason did not kill Ed McNeil. You said yourself that he’s a good man and a good officer.”

“Good people do bad things every day,” he said.

She shook her head. “No. There is nothing anyone could say to change my mind. If I have to tear the Stakely building apart with my bare hands to find some more evidence from the Pendergast case, then that’s what I’ll do. Also, I think the mayor did it.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to impart that last tidbit during her impassioned speech.

“The mayor?” Detective Brenner roared, sitting back so quickly in his chair that it groaned. “You cannot go around accusing public officials with no proof. That’s slander.”