Chapter 47
It was about an hour later when the sheriff called back. "You want the good news or the bad news?"
"Just the good news, please. I've had enough bad news recently."
"The crime lab received the evidence. It was sealed and didn't appear to be tampered with.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Don't get too excited. When the lab tech opened the bag containing the panties, he noticed a faint odor of bleach.”
My heart sank.
"Somebody got to that evidence. It's likely that any DNA that remained on that fabric has been degraded. It seems like Ian accomplished his mission.”
"Where is Slater now?”
"I sent a patrol unit to his residence to pick him up. They have him in custody. I'm sure you want to have a talk with him.”
"Absolutely!” I said. “Check all the logs in the property department. See if anyone else accessed that evidence. We'll be there shortly."
I ended the call and told JD. We said goodbye to Teagan, hopped off the barstools, and hustled across the parking lot to the Porsche.
By the time we got to the station, Slater was in an interrogation room. We chatted with the sheriff in a hallway before questioning the courier.
“The property clerk said no one had direct access to the evidence lockers during her shift, except for her,” Daniels said. “Oddly enough, the camera went down,” he added with a suspicious expression. “There’s no footage from the last several hours. I’ve got Crenshaw looking into it.”
“I want to talk to the clerk.”
“We did have a power surge during the storm this afternoon that could have knocked the camera offline.”
I frowned.
“Find out if this asshole had any involvement,” Daniels said with a sour face.
JD and I stepped into the interrogation room and took a seat across the table from Zach. He was in his late 20s with short brown hair, thick eyebrows, and dark eyes. He carried a little more weight than he would have liked, and his black polo shirt clung snugly around his belly.
I flashed my badge and made introductions.
Zach wasn’t cuffed. He wasn’t under arrest yet. He raised his hands innocently. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but that evidence was sealed when I picked it up, and sealed when I dropped it off. I’ve been working for the lab for five years and never had a problem.”
"You picked up the evidence this evening. But it didn't get to the lab until over an hour later. It doesn’t take that long to get to the lab. Can you account for the discrepancy?"
"I was hungry. I stopped and got something to eat.”
"Where at?"
"Big Tony's. It's the best pizza in town.”
That much was true.
"Look, I didn't do anything,” Zach said. “I don't have a dog in this fight. I told you, I've been shuttling evidence around for the county for the last five years. Never an incident. Never a problem. I like my job. It's not hard. Why would I want to screw that up?"
"Do you know Ian Harrison?”
His face wrinkled. "No. Never heard of the guy."
"You know, we’re going to pull phone records, dig into your background, your bank accounts, everything. Investigators are going to crawl so far up your ass—"
He laughed. "This is outrageous. I didn't do anything." He paused. "How long has that evidence been sitting there? By the dates on that evidence bag, it hadn’t been touched in 15 years. Maybe somebody got to it a long time ago."
"Then why did the lab tech smell bleach when she opened the bag?”
"You guys searched my van, right? Did you find any bleach? Did you find anything?"
I frowned and didn't respond. Deputies had gone over the van and his personal vehicle when he was brought in for questioning.
"Am I free to go?”
I reluctantly nodded. We didn't have anything to hold him on.
He stood up and marched away from the table. A guard buzzed us out, and we followed him into the hallway.
JD and I moved to the next interrogation room and spoke with the property clerk. Deputy Simmons sat at the table in uniform, waiting for us. It was an unusual sight.
"I know this is all part of the process, but you don't really think that I had anything to do with this, do you?” Peggy said.
She was a slightly frumpy brunette with dark eyes, curly dark hair that hung above her shoulders, and a round face.
"Just procedure," I assured. "What time did you come on shift?”
"3 o'clock. I get off at 11:00 PM."
"Did anyone else access the property department at that time?”
"No.”
"Did you leave the property department at all during your shift?”
"Around 6 o'clock, I left and got something to eat."
"How long were you gone?”
She shrugged. "15, maybe 20 minutes."
I shared a look with JD. It was enough time for someone to get in there and potentially do some damage.
The power surge knocked the system offline at 5:20 PM.
The cameras went down, and the logs stopped recording entries and exits to the property department.
There was no record of Peggy leaving to grab dinner. There was no record of her return.
The standard procedure was for all evidence to be logged with the property clerk, who would then store it. A strict chain of custody was kept, logging everyone who handled a particular piece of evidence. Date and time of access were noted.
Somebody tampered with the evidence, but at this point, it was impossible to say who or when.
I called Isabella and had her run background on both of our suspects. I asked her to do a deep dive into their phone records and bank accounts. A phone call to or from Ian would be damning.
Isabella told me she’d get back with me shortly.