Chapter Ninety-Five
Ninety-Five
Mary didn’t have a lawyer, at least not one who she kept on a retainer. She’d never had any need for one. If her wedding con had gone to plan, the case itself would’ve sequestered the services of the District Attorney’s office, and she would have the top prosecutors in the state fighting for her.
This was different.
But the police officer was right. If she didn’t manage to clear this up quickly, she would need a defense lawyer, and a very good one at that.
At the police station, before putting Mary into a holding cell, they took her mugshot and collected her fingerprints, her DNA and samples of the blood on her skin for further analysis.
Throughout the entire process, Mary didn’t say a word.
She didn’t ask for her phone call either…
not yet. What she did do was try her best to organize her thoughts and come up with a plan of action.
As it stood, Mary was staring into an abyss.
Circumstantial evidence put her at the wrong end of events…
and that evidence had been witnessed by police officers.
All they saw was a hysterical, semi-naked woman come running out of a house, half covered in blood, and holding a knife…
a knife that she had used to stab Quaddra with.
As the officers entered the house, they would’ve found Quaddra on the floor inside the kitchen, swimming in a pool of his own blood.
Yes, there was the 911 call, which would score a few points for Mary, but Quaddra was a very intelligent man.
He had probably shut the door to the secret basement once he came up from there, before following Mary into the kitchen – that was why the officers hadn’t found the basement yet.
Once the officers found Quaddra in the kitchen, he certainly flipped the story around because in all honesty, he was the one injured, not Mary.
It would’ve been very easy for him to spin a tale saying that she had gone mental on him and tried to stab him to death out of jealousy…
greed… revenge… whatever… and that was why Mary was in that holding cell, instead of Quaddra.
‘Fuck!’ she cursed under her breath, as she buried her head in her hands.
The way Mary saw it, it didn’t matter if she had a top defense lawyer or not, her only chance of getting out of this crazy mess was if she managed to convince a police officer, a detective, a CSI agent, whoever she could, to go back to the house and check the basement before Quaddra was discharged from the hospital.
If Quaddra got back to the house first, he would need just minutes to take down that entire wall and make that computer with all that footage disappear.
Once that was done, there would be no evidence of his crimes…
and Mary wouldn’t be staring into an abyss anymore – she’d be falling into it, headfirst.
She needed to act now.
‘Hey, I need to talk to someone,’ Mary called at the top of her voice, as she got to her feet, ready to slam her fists against the heavy cell door when she heard it being unlocked.
‘Let’s go,’ a young police officer said, with a jerk of the head, as he pulled open the door.
‘Go where?’
‘Interrogation room,’ the officer replied, signaling her to put her hands together so that he could cuff her again. ‘A detective wants to talk to you.’
Mary breathed in hope. ‘About fucking time.’