Chapter Twelve Jack Angelhart #2
“Your dad’s appealing? He confessed, right?”
Jack nodded. “It’s complicated. He confessed under duress. The killer threatened his family, and Dad felt it was his only
option.”
“He knows who did it?”
Otto sounded skeptical, and Jack didn’t blame him. Jack would be skeptical as well.
“No. The threat was anonymous, but very real. I can’t tell you everything, and even if I did, it’s only a few pieces of a
puzzle. Liz’s phone records will confirm that she called Margo Monday night. They talked for about seven or eight minutes
and agreed to meet Tuesday morning in Peoria. Liz claimed that she learned something at the VA that may help our dad. It’s
a long shot, but it involves missing medical records for one of my dad’s patients.” Jack paused. “Margo never believed that
he killed Devin Klein and has kept feelers out.”
“I’m aware. What about you?”
Jack hesitated. “I didn’t know what to think, to be honest. I kept going back to why would he confess to a crime he didn’t
commit? Why go to prison for fifteen years if he was innocent? So I thought maybe they argued, or it was an accident, or . . .
I don’t know. I could never picture my dad shooting anyone, and if he had, I thought he would have confessed on the spot,
so the whole thing really twisted me up. And I was going through a divorce back then, so my mind wasn’t fully on anything.”
“Now? You believe he’s innocent?”
Jack nodded. “I know more about what happened then. I can’t say I would have done the same thing, but if someone threatened Austin, I don’t know what I might have done. I don’t expect you to believe it.”
“I can’t say one way or the other. I’ve talked to Margo about it, used to see a lot more of her when she was dating Rick.
She never wavered, so I never brought it up after the first time when I played devil’s advocate and thought she was going
to toss her beer in my face.”
Jack almost smiled. He could picture it.
“Liz called Margo, and less than twelve hours later she was murdered. I need to know what the police know. My dad was transferred
early this morning from Eyman to Florence, Colorado. They put him in Supermax. We weren’t told, his lawyer wasn’t told, and
the order is sealed. Something very strange is going on, and I’m worried that he’s in danger. We know most of the guards at
Eyman and the warden is a good guy. His cellmate committed fraud, not murder. Now Dad’s in prison with mass murderers and
gangbangers. He shouldn’t be there.”
Otto’s dark face was unreadable. Then he jerked his head over to the bar in the corner. “There’s an envelope there for you.
Everything I could dig up on the case. They don’t have much.”
Jack walked over to the bar and opened the manila envelope. Inside was a copy of the Peoria police report. He skimmed it.
At 0648 yesterday morning, a 911 call came in from the Swanson house. A teenager who identified himself as Brian Swanson said
he heard a crash out front. He looked out the window and saw his parents’ car had hit a parked vehicle across the street,
and they weren’t getting out. He ran outside and saw that they had been shot, then called 911. After, two other 911 calls
came in from neighbors.
“No one heard a gunshot,” Jack said.
“No one said they heard a gunshot,” Otto corrected.
“None of the follow-up interviews indicate anyone heard anything except the collision.”
“Silencer, you’re thinking,” Otto said. “Possible. Autopsies were today, but the report hasn’t been filed yet. According to
the first responders and then the detective in follow-up, the killer shot through the passenger-side window, which was rolled
down. Two bullets in each victim. The car was already in Reverse and by the time it hit the parked vehicle and anyone looked
outside, he was gone.”
Jack turned to a photo of the scene. “He was either parked facing north and went north, or parked south and drove south, because
the Swanson’s vehicle is blocking most of the street, he wouldn’t have been able to get by without driving on the sidewalk.”
“South,” Otto said. “The north is a dead end. The road curves east and ends in a cul-de-sac.”
“Professional,” Jack said.
“Could be.”
Jack believed it. “Two bullets each victim—he had investigated the area and knew how to get out quickly. Maybe he had a driver.
Maybe he didn’t even get out of the car, simply drove in Reverse to the corner then left the neighborhood.”
“When the autopsy report comes in, we’ll know exactly how far away the shooter was.
This isn’t in the report because detectives don’t like to speculate in writing where it could get them slapped by the defense for jumping to conclusions, but based on visual evidence, they believe that the killer was parked on the street and shot from his vehicle as the Swansons backed up right in front of him.
” To demonstrate, he put his right hand on an imaginary steering wheel, leaned to the left, and held his left hand as if it held a gun.
“If that was the case, he would have had to back up, then turn the vehicle around and drive south. Or, he got out of his vehicle and approached the passenger side, Mrs. Swanson rolled down the window, and he shot them point-blank. The witness, their son, didn’t see a vehicle leaving the scene, and the crash happened seconds after the shooting. We’re talking a very tight timeline.”
“Again, professional. Yet . . .”
This time, Otto nodded. “You’re thinking they knew the killer.”
“Yes, I am,” Jack said. “Why else roll down the window?”
“A beautiful morning? Someone needed directions?” Otto shrugged. “It’s definitely a theory. We’re talking middle of safe suburbia
where the most serious crime is maybe drunk driving. No brass was found, and no witness noticed a lone man sitting in a vehicle
on the street. Police have collected all security footage from every neighbor who has cameras facing the road on the Swansons’
street, and the perpendicular road which leads out of the neighborhood. But they’re still going through it.”
“Would you let me know if they identify him?”
“If I can. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. But it might help us piece together what happened to my dad.” Jack paused, then decided to tell Otto more.
“I’m worried about my family. My mom said our entire family was threatened, including Austin. My grandparents are spending
a few days at Logan Monroe’s resort, just in case someone tries to get to them, and Austin is with my girlfriend and her family
in a secure house.”
“Safety in numbers.” Otto stared at Jack. “You really think they’re going to come after your family.”
“That was the threat they held over Dad’s head, that his children—and my son—would be killed.”
Otto glanced toward the wall of photos of his own boys.
Anger flashed across his face. “Damn.” He shook his head.
“I’m sorry about all this, Jack. There was little evidence at the scene.
Seven in the morning, people going to work, going to school, and no one saw anything.
They’ll re-canvass. Sometimes people remember a detail later, or someone wasn’t home when the police first knocked on doors.
I’ll take another look at the file tomorrow, let you know if anything was added or changed. ”
“I appreciate it,” Jack said.
The Suns were up two points with four minutes left when Otto walked Jack to the door. “Margo isn’t getting back together with
Rick, is she?” Otto asked.
“No.”
“He blew it.”
“Maybe. But it takes two, doesn’t it?”
Otto nodded. “Yes, it does. But that doesn’t mean you have to be a stranger, Jack. Keep in touch, even when you don’t need
information.”
“Not so much Margo’s fault as my girlfriend,” Jack admitted. “I spend most of my free time with Laura.”
Otto laughed, shook Jack’s hand. “Well, then, I’ll just have to plan a barbecue soon to meet her.”
“We’d like that,” Jack said and left.