Revenge of Innocents (31 page)

“We have one of the key victims,” Carolyn said. “Jude’s story fits the facts of the case. Once her condition stabilizes, she can provide us with more specific details.”

“Let me ask you something,” the district attorney said. “Why are you trying so hard to link these four cases together? I concede that the probation officer and her husband were more than likely killed by the same suspect, especially since they were both shot in the forehead. But even there, the murder weapons weren’t the same.”

“Veronica Campbell was shot with her own gun,” Mary said, circling around to the other side of the table and taking a seat next to Hank. “The killer left it at the scene, so he must have got his hands on another gun. The streets are flooded with guns—”

“May I finish?” Redfield said, a sharp tone to his voice. “The Snodgrass girl’s death doesn’t fit, and neither does the hit-and-run accident.” He stopped speaking and looked hard at Mary. “The crime isn’t attempted murder, Detective. The girl stepped out from behind a truck and was struck by a vehicle.”

“You can’t let Reggie Stockton walk out of that jail,” Carolyn shouted, leaping to her feet. “He’s a cold-blooded murderer.”

The district attorney looked at Hank. “I thought he was being held on a felony warrant out of New Orleans.”

“They aren’t going to extradite,” Mary told him. “His public defender found out, and demanded we release him immediately. The jail is processing his paperwork as we speak.”

Lou Redfield sighed. “Then they’ll have to release him. Your so-called star witness, Jude Campbell, has established a reputation as a liar and heroin addict. She recanted her story about her father abusing her. Pretty callous, if you ask me. The last days of this man’s life were spent in a jail cell under the worst accusations a child could make. If you think you can hang a case on Jude Campbell’s testimony, you’re out of your mind. You can call every prosecutor we have, and you’ll get the same answer.”

“What about Don Snodgrass?” Mary asked. “You saw the pictures we found on his computer. His attorney says his wife was the primary user on that machine. She could be covering for him. Most women don’t even know how to set up a bios password.”

“I don’t agree,” Redfield said. “I’m not familiar with all the details in the Snodgrass matter. With the instances of identity theft, people have become paranoid. As to the photos, there were two teenage girls in that residence who probably had access to the digital camera. One of their friends may have taken the shots in question. I have three daughters. Not long ago, we came across a picture of one of them on the toilet. I certainly didn’t take it, and neither did my wife. One of our girls finally owned up to it. She said it was supposed to be funny.” He stood and picked up his briefcase. “I’m sorry, but I have to be in court in thirty minutes.”

They all exchanged tense glances after Redfield left. “Jude isn’t lying about Stockton,” Carolyn said, furious. “I’m not sure if Drew abused her or she wrote the diary like she said to get back at him. Drew isn’t our problem anymore. I’m convinced Stockton killed both Veronica and Drew, as well as tried to run over Jude. He probably killed the Haley girl as well. How can the DA’s office snub their noses at us like that? We’re not talking about a burglar or a car thief. Stockton might come after Jude to finish the job. Veronica and Drew were my friends.” She slammed her fist down on the table. “I refuse to let this vile man walk out of the jail without suffering the consequences of his actions. Remember the night I was jumped in the parking lot? I was certain the man had an accent. I didn’t put it together from the interview with Stockton at Circuit City. Maybe he trained himself to speak without an accent in order to blend in. When we interviewed him this morning, he was nervous and I heard it. I’m certain now that Reggie Stockton was the person who attacked me. I certainly don’t have a problem with credibility. I want to press charges against him.”

“Great idea,” Hank said, tugging on his earlobe. “Preston was with you that night, right? He exchanged gunfire with the assailant. That means we can file under assault with a deadly weapon.” His eyes roamed to the other detective. “We may be able to make this fly, people.”

“Brad wasn’t with me when it happened,” Carolyn explained, pacing. “That section of the parking lot is dark, so neither of us got a good look at the guy. Besides, the bastard had his shoe in my face. He didn’t return Brad’s gunfire, so we can’t say for certain he was armed. He did poke me in the back with a hard object, which I believed was a firearm. You can still file under 245.”

“The DA’s office is going to see right through this,” Mary argued. “All of a sudden you know who attacked you, Carolyn, and it just happens to be Reggie Stockton, a man they declined to prosecute. Even if you described Stockton down to a mole on his dick, they wouldn’t believe you. Wait until the DNA tests come back tomorrow. If we can connect Stockton to the crimes by means of forensic evidence, Redfield will have to reconsider.”

Carolyn couldn’t believe Mary wasn’t arguing against her rather than supporting her. “Stockton will be gone by tomorrow. He’ll disappear into the woodwork and will never find him. He’s got Jude’s Taurus stashed somewhere. All he has to do is steal a clean license plate.”

Hank shook his head. “You’re not making sense, Carolyn. The guy was sleeping on the beach in Santa Barbara. Why would he do that if he had available wheels? If nothing else, he could have slept in the car. It gets cold up there at night.” Before she could answer, he turned to Gary Conrad. “Go park outside the jail so you can tail Stockton when he’s released. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll lead us to the Taurus.”

Conrad stood and shoved his chair back to the table. “Where’s Keith? I thought he was supposed to be our grunt guy.”

“Keith’s mother died,” Mary told him. “He had to fly home to Atlanta for the funeral.”

“Why do I always get the shitty jobs?” Conrad continued. “If Stockton’s on foot, I’ll have to follow him on foot or he’ll make me.”

“Maybe you’re a shitty detective,” Hank told him. “Some exercise will do you good. That gut of yours gets bigger every day. Quit whining and take care of it. I’ll have someone spot you as soon as I can. Lose this one and you’ll be back in patrol.”

After Conrad shuffled out of the room, mumbling profanities under his breath, Hank linked eyes with Carolyn. “Go home, spend some time with Marcus and Rebecca, get a decent night’s sleep. Tomorrow morning, we’ll go to the hospital and see what else Jude can tell us. Snodgrass is still a suspect. Don’t bite my head off, Carolyn, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Jude sings a different song the next time we talk to her. Personally, I think the girl is a mental case.” He paused, then thought of something else. “By the way, how were you going to handle the situation with her diary? It’s booked into evidence now. We can’t make it disappear. Jesus, it’s in her own handwriting. She didn’t say a damn thing about Stockton, other than the fact that she was madly in love with him. That alone would destroy the case. The defense will depict her as a liar, a loony, and a jilted lover.”

“Are you going to send someone to the hospital to protect Jude?” Carolyn asked, packing up her computer notebook. “Stockton doesn’t know she’s talked to us. He’s killed everyone else who might incriminate him.”

“I don’t have the manpower,” Hank said. “We’re stretched to the max. I don’t think he’d risk going to the hospital. The guy’s got his walking papers. My guess is he’ll put as much distance between himself and Ventura as possible.”

“I can’t go home, Hank,” Carolyn said. “I have to pick out caskets for Veronica and Drew. After that, I need to go back to the hospital to be with Jude. No matter what she’s said or done in the past, she’s a human being. The doctors don’t even know yet to what extent she’ll be able to use her arm. Right now, I’m the only person who seems to care about her.”

“I thought Veronica wanted to be cremated,” Mary said. “Isn’t that what Emily told you?”

“Drew intended to buy a family plot. I was supposed to go to the funeral home with him the morning after he was killed. Veronica never mentioned anything to me about wanting to be cremated. Emily may have told us that because having someone cremated doesn’t require a lot of effort.”

Mary walked her to her car in the parking lot. “This has been a terrible burden for you, Carolyn. Why isn’t Emily handling these things?”

“She’s in trial on a big case.”

“Christ, she’s a personal injury attorney,” Mary argued. “She can get a postponement for a death in the family.”

“She’s already saddled with the three kids,” Carolyn said, opening the door to the Infiniti. In reality, she was disgusted with Emily. She understood why she and Veronica had never been close. “I want to make arrangements to bury Veronica and Drew. I didn’t just let Veronica down, Mary. I let Drew down as well. I should never have let him go inside that house alone. I sent him to his death, just like I did Veronica. I’m the last person to see either of them alive.”

Wednesday, October 19
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6:30
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M
arcus met Carolyn at the Morton Chase Funeral Home. She picked out two caskets, both of them outrageously expensive. Her state of exhaustion had intensified to the point where her thoughts were no longer completely rational.

“No one really knows what happens when you die,” Carolyn said, grabbing hold of Marcus’s lapels. “Your coffin might be like your home. Drew and Veronica lived in such a plain house. I want them to be buried in something beautiful. I don’t want the roof to leak, or bugs to get inside.”

“Bodies decay,” he said, slapping his credit card down on the mortician’s desk.

“No,” she protested. “I’m going to pay for it. I don’t want you to spend your money. Please, Marcus, I wouldn’t have picked out such expensive coffins if I knew you were going to pay for them.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he said, patting her on the back. “Let’s finish the rest of the arrangements so we can go home.”

Carolyn decided to have a joint service. Veronica’s body was ready to be released, but Drew’s had to undergo an autopsy. Sometimes the morgue ran out of room, and insisted the next of kin take possession of the body as soon as they were finished with it. She’d called Charley after she’d left the police department and he’d agreed to keep Veronica until they completed the autopsy on Drew.

She had to decide on flowers, select the cemetery plots, arrange to have a priest officiate at the services. Veronica had lived the majority of her life as a Catholic, and Carolyn wanted her to have a Catholic funeral. Drew didn’t believe in God, but under the circumstances, she thought Father Michaels would agree to officiate at the service.

Rebecca had packed some of her things and decided to stay with Carolyn’s brother, Neil, who had a large home in the foothills of Ventura. Neil had been giving his niece art lessons for several years, and he lived close to her school.

When they reached the Infiniti, Marcus kissed her lightly on the lips. “I’ll see you at the house. Josephine made lasagna. That should give you some energy.” He smiled, moving a hair off her forehead. “I’m going to put you to bed like a baby tonight. If you give me any trouble, I might have to spank you.”

“I have to check on Jude first,” Carolyn told him. Seeing the annoyed look on his face, she added, “I’m not going to stay, Marcus. I just want her to know I care about her. The doctor makes rounds at seven, so if I hurry I might be able to catch him.”

“Do whatever you have to do,” Marcus said, turning to walk off, then stopping. “You’re losing it, Carolyn. I’m not sure you’re even fit to drive. Leave your car here. If you insist on going to the hospital, let me take you. Forget about the lasagna. We’ll stop and get something to eat on the way home, then swing by and pick up the Infiniti. When people are under this kind of stress, they have to eat regular meals, and they have to sleep. Isn’t that what the doctor told you when you fainted the other day?”

Carolyn smiled, but only the corners of her lips turned up. “At least I don’t have to worry about fitting into my wedding dress.”

“No,” Marcus said, leading her by the elbow. “The damn thing is going to fall off.”

When they got to the hospital, Marcus went to the waiting room while Carolyn headed to the nurse’s station. “Please, if you see a young black man anywhere near Jude Campbell’s room, call 911.” She gave them a full description of Reggie Stockton, and told them that he’d just been released from jail. The charge nurse, April Cooksey, said she’d tell the other nurses and place a note in Jude’s chart.

“Is Dr. Samuels here?”

“He just left,” Cooksey said, a black woman in her fifties. “Jude had a rough day today. He changed her pain medication to Delaudin. It seems to be helping. Dr. Samuels said her arm is healing nicely.”

Delaudin was a powerful narcotic, generally used to treat cancer patients. It was also similar to heroin. Carolyn started to say something about Jude’s drug problem, but stopped herself. With what she’d gone through, she deserved whatever comfort she could get.

Carolyn quietly entered her room. Jude appeared to be sleeping, so she just sat there in a chair, lost in her thoughts. If Drew had abused Jude, as her diary clearly implied, why had he been the first person she’d asked for? And she’d turned herself into an object of contempt when she’d changed her story that day at the DA’s office. How could she have wanted the person who killed her mother to go free?

Reggie Stockton was the murderer.

The more she thought about it, the more fantasies she developed about killing him. She stared out over the dimly lit room as she began to formulate a plan. Gary Conrad was tailing him. Hopefully, he hadn’t lost him. She could call Gary on his cell phone, find out where Stockton was, and tell him Hank had called off the surveillance. Then she could corner Stockton somewhere and shoot him.

Carolyn wanted Stockton dead, but she didn’t want to go to prison. It wouldn’t be fair to Marcus or Rebecca, let alone her son, John, who would be coming home from MIT for Thanksgiving next month. All these happy events she’d planned to celebrate with her new husband and family no longer seemed important. She felt trapped in a dark, bottomless pit, where grotesque images kept clicking off inside her head like a slide show. Veronica’s round, pretty face was now a hideous death mask. She saw Haley Snodgrass’s hands shaped into claws, and could almost hear her pitiful cries as her killer covered her with dirt. She imagined Jude’s bloody, severed arm, and remembered Drew’s gratitude that she had picked him up from jail.

The police had found no signs of forced entry at the house. Jude probably had a garage door opener inside her Taurus, or Stockton had stolen Drew’s key the night Jude overdosed. Carolyn had given her key to Drew, so his key must have been somewhere inside the house. According to Hank and Mary, it wasn’t there after his murder.

Stockton had found opportunities to kill everywhere he went. He’d even used Veronica’s gun. How many lives had this despicable man destroyed?

Someone had to stop him.

Carolyn needed a clean gun, but she couldn’t walk into a gun store and buy one. Many cops had “throw down” pieces, guns they carried on the off chance that they shot an unarmed person. They’d place the weapon in the person’s hands, so his fingerprints would be found, thereby substantiating the use of deadly force. Generally the police officers strapped their “throw down” gun to their leg, or some other inconspicuous place on their body.

Her plan had too many holes in it. Everyone knew how she felt about Stockton, including Lou Redfield. Besides, she wasn’t a cop, so she doubted if Gary Conrad would abandon his assignment without first checking with Hank.

Carolyn had always believed in the system. She had despised people like the former forensic scientist, Robert Abernathy, who had made a mockery of it. She didn’t mind stepping outside the rules on occasion, but killing someone didn’t fall into that category. What she had to do was figure out a way to trick Stockton into confessing and then recording it. The problem was she didn’t know how she could manage it without violating his rights, which would make the confession inadmissible.

She wanted Stockton to be processed through the proper channels, but the proper channels had washed their hands of him. There appeared no other way to stop him except to kill him.

“Hi,” Jude said in a soft voice. “How long have you been here?”

“Not long,” Carolyn said, taking up a position beside the bed. “How’s the pain, honey? I heard the doctor put you on some new medicine.”

“Better,” she said. “It still hurts really bad, though. The doctor said he couldn’t give me anything stronger without putting me back in a coma. Is Reggie going to prison?”

Carolyn couldn’t force herself to tell her.

“They didn’t believe you, did they?” she said, seeing the answer in Carolyn’s eyes. “I was afraid that might happen.”

“Jude, what happened to your Taurus? Does Reggie have it? Is that the car he hit you with?”

“Yeah,” she said, the drugs causing her to slur her words. “The bastard stole it from my house when my dad was in jail. I wanted it back when I took off so I’d have a way to get around. I called Reggie and he promised to bring it to my house. He never showed up. That’s when I overdosed. I used the money I stole from Rebecca to buy the heroin. I felt bad about what I’d done to my father. I was also sad about my mother.”

“But why would you call Reggie?” Carolyn said, her voice harsher than she intended. “He beat you, used you. You also told me you were certain he killed your mother.”

“I wanted my car back,” Jude told her. “I don’t make rational decisions, okay? I’ve been living in a fantasy world my whole life. I can talk myself into something, then talk myself out of it in an hour. I thought I was in love with Reggie, so maybe I was in that kind of mood. I get weird when I’m alone. Leave me alone too long, and I’ll open the door to Hannibal Lector. That’s the way it was for me with sex, too.”

Was she saying she was a pathological liar? Carolyn wondered. “But you had two brothers and a sister. I would think it would be the other way around, that you’d want some privacy.”

“I’m almost eleven years older than Stacy. Since Mom and Dad both worked, they left me with this crazy old lady. All she did was read the Bible to me. Mom had to take me to a shrink because I kept having nightmares about the devil. That’s why she decided to have another kid. Dad didn’t want any more. I know because I heard them fighting all the time about it.”

Carolyn recalled what Drew had told her about Jude dislocating Stacy’s leg when she’d been an infant. Although she probably would have been as upset as Veronica and Drew, children did foolish things. “I’m going to ask you something, Jude,” she said, her tone firm. “You must swear on your life that you’re telling me the truth. This isn’t a game, just something to entertain you while you’re convalescing. If you’re lying now, there could be terrible consequences.”

Jude smiled. “What are you going to do, cut off my other arm?”

Carolyn knew she had to be firm with her. “The drug they’re giving you for pain is extremely strong. Are you alert enough to answer my questions, or should I come back some other time?”

“They’re giving me Delaudin. I know it’s like heroin. They even sell it on the street. It doesn’t really make you feel good like heroin, or maybe it’s because I hurt so much. Anyway, I have a high tolerance for narcotics. Ask me anything you want. I like you, Carolyn. You’re the only person who’s come to visit me. You didn’t even hold it against me that I stole Marcus’s Jeep and the money from Rebecca’s room.”

Carolyn sucked in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Is every thing you told me about Reggie the truth?”

“I swear,” Jude said, locking eyes with her. “I swear on Peter, Michael, and Stacy’s life. They were the only ones who ever really loved me.”

“Why would Reggie kill your father?”

“Because if the police didn’t believe my dad did it,” the girl told her, “they might figure out he killed my mom. He said Louisiana prisons weren’t the same as California prisons, that they even had chain gangs, whatever that means.”

“Tell me precisely what happened the night you were hit by the car, from the time you left the district attorney’s office.”

Jude stared up at the ceiling. “I didn’t have any money or anywhere to stay, so I clipped that court reporter’s wallet when she wasn’t looking. I got lost inside the building. When I found a door that would open, I saw the entrance to the jail. I didn’t know the jail was back there. I freaked, thinking I was going to run into my dad.”

“Then what did you do?”

“I got a cash advance on the American Express card.”

“How? Don’t you need a PIN?”

“I’m not a thief,” Jude told her. “But things like that aren’t hard to figure out. I had the lady’s driver’s license, so I tried her birthday and it worked. Then I decided to buy the airline tickets. I used the computer at the library. I couldn’t make up my mind where to go, so I bought tickets to different places. They were first class, so I knew I could trade them in for other tickets, or maybe sell them.” Jude stopped and asked Carolyn for a drink of water. She stared at her bandaged arm. “I’m going to look like Frankenstein, aren’t I?”

“You’ll be fine,” Carolyn told her. “You’ll have a scar but you can cover it up with long-sleeve shirts. Try to stay focused on what you did that evening.”

“I took a nap at the library,” she said. “After they closed, I went to see if I could buy some dope and get high. I was hanging around on Dos Caminos where I’d scored in the past when I saw Reggie coming up the street in my Taurus. I jumped out and waved my arms to get him to stop. He saw me ’cause I looked right at him. The last thing I remember is the headlights.”

“And this is the God’s honest truth?”

“Yes,” she said. “How many times are you going to ask me?”

“If someone killed Reggie, how would you feel?”

“Good,” Jude said without a moment’s hesitation. “I’d like to kill the fucker myself, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. Are you going to kill him? Is that why you’re asking me all these questions?”

“Of course not,” Carolyn lied, staring at a spot over her head. “I don’t believe people should take the law into their own hands. I just wanted to see how you’d react. I believed you when you told me your father abused you. How can I be sure you’re not lying about Reggie?”