Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
“Iwon’t forget it either, Riley.” Colton’s voice pressed through the tightness in his throat.
Praying with her … her hand clutched tightly to his …
the two of them alone with God. It changed him.
Like something inside him opened up that morning.
Opened up, then filled with something he couldn’t describe.
Something … spiritual. Something he hadn’t experienced in over four years, since the day he’d blocked God out of his life for taking something precious from him.
Tilting her head, she studied him for a few seconds. “It seems you and God are back on speaking terms.”
He nodded, but how could he explain? Since the last time they’d bumped into each other here in the middle of the night, when she’d reached out to remind him how much God loved him, he’d felt pulled back toward the faith he’d left behind. A coming home, of sorts.
His Bible still lay in a desk drawer in his study where he’d put it the day after Theresa’s funeral. But he found one in the Hudson’s library a few days ago, and while Riley worked in her suite, he pored over Scriptures he remembered from times past.
“I’ve been getting back in touch, I guess you could say.”
“I’m so happy to hear that.”
He couldn’t help but return her smile, this woman he was trying to keep at arm’s length but who invaded his dreams. Dreams that teased him with something he could never have.
It sure didn’t help running headlong into that dream in the middle of the night.
He gave himself a mental shake. “Yeah, it’s time. All that anger wasn’t doing anything for me. Just standing in the way of whatever God wants to bring into my life.”
She regarded him for a moment with those emerald eyes he couldn’t look away from. “So, we’re okay? You and me?”
The earnestness of her question shattered his resolve to keep her at a distance.
“Yes.” Before he could talk himself out of it, he reached over to take her hand on top of the table. “We’re fine, Riley.”
Relief flooded her face.
He let her go and glanced over to the island, where her Bible lay unopened. “I messed up your quiet time. I should leave you alone.”
“No, it’s all right. I had my quiet time this morning, but I can’t stop thinking about Shane’s case and how things aren’t happening as quickly as I’d hoped. Figured some time in the Word would help me clear my head.”
He sat back in his chair and studied her for a moment. “Wanna talk through it? Maybe two brains can figure out what’s missing. Or at least where to go next.”
“You sure you don’t want to get back to bed?”
“I’m here. If it’ll help quiet whatever’s happening in your head, let’s do it.”
Sitting back in her chair, she folded her arms across her middle. “Okay, here’s what we know. According to Judge Mulaney’s testimony at trial, he’d given Caitlyn an ultimatum five days before her death. Either drop the no-good fortune hunter or lose their financial support.”
“Is that the word he used? Ultimatum?”
“I believe he said choice, but the meaning was clear. If she didn’t dump Shane, she’d be estranged from her family. Shane said he told Cait he didn’t want to come between her and her parents, but she’d claimed to be done with her father’s overbearing ways, choosing to be with him.”
“His word against theirs.”
“Which is precisely what his former defense attorney said the day we met. Who would take Shane’s word over a sitting district judge?”
He sat up and clasped his hands on top of the table. “Which begs the question, why didn’t they file for a change of venue, since her father’s a judge in the same county?”
“Right? He said they didn’t believe it was a relevant reason to change venues since a jury would be deciding the verdict, not the judge.”
“But the judge runs the trial. And if he’s tight with Judge Mulaney …”
“Exactly. One of the first things I’ll do if we’re granted a new trial is request a change of venue.”
“Good plan. Go on.”
She stood and walked to the island. “The day before Caitlyn was killed, flowers were ordered online from a nearby florist using a credit card in Shane’s name and billed to his address.
” She started back to the table, her gaze pinned to the window.
“The order also indicated what should be put on the card, and the flowers would be picked up the next day. Not delivered.”
Back to the island she went. “A few minutes before closing the day of the murder, a man standing over six foot with dark hair, sunglasses, and wearing a business suit came in for the flowers. The florist further described him to the homicide detectives as slight of face but bulkier in build.”
Standing at the table again, she looked down at him. “Shane’s six-three and topped out around two-twenty at the time. He was muscular and fit, but full-faced, not slight.”
She returned to the island. He grinned. Watching her in thinking mode was entertaining.
“The detective showed her a photo line-up the next day, but she couldn’t identify him as the customer. They did a composite, and it only resembles Shane in hair color since she couldn’t see the man’s eyes. Which is exactly why the prosecution didn’t introduce it at trial.”
“Please tell me the defense at least did that.”
“That much they did do.” She stopped her pacing. “I tell you, Colton, I’m tempted to use Ineffective Assistance of Counsel as an appeal. These guys really let him down.”
“Use whatever’s at your disposal. Trust your gut. It’s reliable.”
She cocked her head and smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“What next?”
Her pacing resumed. “By the time his case made it to trial, he’d lost some weight and the florist then ID’d him in court as the man who picked up the flowers.
The defense never showed her the picture of Shane from the photo line-up at the time of the murder two years before, when she failed to pick him out.
And there was no security tape to refute her claim. ”
“A lost opportunity for reasonable doubt.”
“One of many.” She took her seat again. “According to the fitness tracker Caitlyn wore on her wrist, she breathed her last at 6:22 p.m. And this is where things get weird.”
“Hit me.”
“The florist testified the flowers were picked up—allegedly by Shane—at ten to six, but he says he didn’t arrive at her house until almost seven. The nine-one-one call came in at 6:58. The drive from the shop to Caitlyn’s was no more than ten minutes.”
He cocked his head. “Making the question why the lag time. Couldn’t they use his cell phone records to track his movements?”
She sighed. “Shane uses a company-owned cell while he’s working, turns off his personal phone, and leaves it in his car.
On this day, he claimed his phone disappeared from his car parked in the parking garage.
He drives a vintage Camaro. No alarm. His company phone was turned off at 5:12 p.m., the time he stopped working for the day.
The only personal calls they found on his work phone were to his cell carrier and to Ferdinand’s during his lunch break to make dinner reservations for seven-thirty, and then to Cait a little before one.
He said she was excited he was able to get a reservation. ”
“The call to his carrier was to suspend his service?”
“Yes. And order a new phone. Thankfully, he took the time to do that immediately upon discovering it had been taken. If the person who took it had planned to use it to ‘place’ Shane at the scene of the crime, the GPS wouldn’t work with service suspended.”
“But it also leaves no phone record to verify he wasn’t there. Was it the prosecution’s assertion he faked the theft of his phone and suspended his service so he couldn’t be tracked?”
“It was. And, of course, the defense didn’t argue. He said again there was no way to prove the phone had been taken, so they simply didn’t address it.”
“I would imagine whoever took it would have had to know Shane left his phone in his car every day. Most people take their phones with them.”
“I wondered about that, too, and the only thing that makes sense is that whoever did this planned it out thoroughly. They could’ve been watching him, following him, and somehow noticed he changed phones before going into wherever he was contracted to work that day.”
Needing to stretch, he stood and reached over his head, then stuck his hands on his hips. “Okay, let’s track. Everett turned off his work phone around 5:15, flowers were picked up a little before six, Cait died at 6:22, and Everett called nine-one-one at 6:58. From Cait’s phone?”
“Yes.”
“And where does he say he was from the time he turned off his company phone until he arrived at Cait’s a little over an hour later?”
“He went home after leaving his client, then over to Cait’s.”
He moved to the island and leaned back against it, bracing his hands on the counter behind him. “Could he have gone from his client’s place of business to the florist between the time he turned off the phone and then allegedly picked up the flowers?”
“Yes, it could be done. However, the defense put the guy Shane had been working with all day on the stand, who testified Shane was wearing brown slacks and a tan shirt with a print tie for work that day. At the time he was found with Cait, he was wearing black slacks, a gray shirt, and a different print tie. And he had a black suit coat in his car. The clothes he wore for work that day were found during a search of his residence, so it tracked that he went home to change.”
“How did the prosecution answer for that?”
“Asserted he went home and changed, then picked up the flowers. The timeline is tight, especially during rush hour, although it could be done. My investigator tried it five times and was successful once, when he allotted only ten minutes for the change of clothes. Shane said he shaved again before heading over to Cait’s, so there’s no way he could do that and change into a suit in ten minutes. ”
“Did the florist indicate what color suit the man who picked up the flowers was wearing?”