Chapter 46
Isabella gave me instructions to tell the IT guys how to recover the file from the flash card. It was a simpler chain of custody if our guys figured it out.
In the meantime, I looked up Sean Pearson’s social media profile. His dark hair was dyed platinum blond. I was able to find a few pics of him shirtless on a boat, the tattoo in plain view. It could only be him.
Richard Pearson was covering for his son.
With the same build, it was easy to mistake the two from grainy drone footage, apart from the tattoo.
Sean had a juvenile record. It was sealed, and I couldn't tell what the offense was. Something told me it might have been related to sexual misconduct.
“What the hell are you doing here?” the sheriff growled.
“Solving a murder case.”
“You two are on leave. I don’t want to see your asses around here. Go home.”
I filled him in on the Pearson case and showed him the still frame.
“So, you’re telling me you shot the wrong guy last night?”
“No, I shot a guy who shot an officer, remember?”
“Oh, I remember,” he said with seething eyes.
I tapped the image of Sean assaulting Riley. “This guy is still out on the street.”
“Sit this one out.”
“Sit this one out? I’m sorry. What does that mean? My English is not so good.”
He glared at me. “Sit this one out!”
“I’m still not getting it. Explain it to me like I’m five.”
Daniels groaned and shook his head. “The two of you combined aren’t five. More like two.”
We just gave him dumb looks.
“So, what you’re saying is we can return to duty, pending final review.”
Daniels just walked off.
I looked at Jack. “Was that a yes or a no?”
JD shrugged.
A couple of hours later, the IT guys recovered the same image, this time through legitimate means. I took it to the sheriff, along with the images of Sean I had pulled from social media. “That’s the same guy. No doubt about it. You can’t take this case away from us now.”
He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. “Try not to kill anyone today.”
We smiled, and I gave him a mock salute.
With the image in hand, I filled out an application for a warrant, and Judge Echols signed off on it.
It didn't take long to have a tac team at the Pearson residence. I banged on the door.
“Coconut County!” I shouted. “We have a warrant!”
I nodded to Erickson, and he hammered the door with a ram. The jamb splintered, glass shattered, and the door flung wide.
We flooded into the foyer and cleared the area. Jack was the last one in. He’d ditched the sling, but his arm wasn’t good for much at the moment.
Julie Pearson greeted us with an angry scowl. I was the last person she wanted to see.
“We have a warrant!” I shouted again.
I secured her, then followed the deputies as they ascended the staircase. It was early enough for Sean to still be in bed. The kid was a night owl. Actually, he wasn't much of a kid. At 18, he was a cold-blooded killer.
Jack stayed with Julie.
Sean’s room was a pigsty. Dirty clothes littered the floor. Posters of rock bands lined the walls. A tray of weed and a bong rested on the nightstand by the bed. Richard Pearson didn't do a good job of disciplining his kid.
Sean peeled open his sleepy eyes as the barrels of twitchy assault rifles closed in on him. "What the fuck, man!?"
The tattoo on his right shoulder was the same one in the image that Isabella had sent me. He bore a striking resemblance to his father, though a little leaner.
"You're under arrest for the murder of Riley Reynolds," I shouted. “Face down, put your hands behind your head.”
Sean knew he was busted. He didn't even try to deny it. He complied, and the deputies ratcheted cuffs around his wrists.
We yanked him out of bed wearing only boxers. He'd be given a new wardrobe down at the station. I read him his rights as I escorted him through the house and down the steps.
Julie glared at us. She told her son to keep his mouth shut.
It was hard to believe she was still defending his actions, but what was she going to do?
Paris Delaney and her crew waited outside. The cameraman got the money shot as I perp-walked Sean to a patrol car and stuffed him in the back.
We searched the house, and forensic investigators chronicled the scene.
We found one of Riley’s earrings in the bedroom.
It had fallen off the nightstand and rested on the floor between it and the bed.
It was a match to the earring that was still on her body when the fishermen pulled her out of the water.
I talked to Julie, but she wasn’t too forthcoming.
“I’m not saying anything to you,” she said with a scowl.
“Does the term accessory after the fact mean anything to you? Think about your newborn.”