Chapter Thirteen #2
Fowler shook his head. “I have no recall of that photo, but rest assured, I will look into it.”
Rory barely resisted rolling her eyes. Fat lot of good that would do.
Chance smiled when the detective said no more.
“Well, if you don’t have any other questions, we’ll get out of your way.
We have some additional interviews to take care of, and I am confident you have a great deal of work to do.
My agency will be getting back to you very soon about where to send that overlooked evidence. ”
He and Rory stood.
The detective scooted back his seat and hefted himself up. “I may need to speak with you again,” he said as he made his way to the door.
“Maybe a little more advance notice would help next time,” Chance suggested. “We will likely want the attorney Zoomed in as well.”
The detective grunted some indistinguishable response.
Once they were back in the lobby, Rory managed a deep breath. She could not wait to get out of this place. She was certain the police department overall was a good one, but her experience with Fowler and his handling of the investigation into her husband’s murder had not been good at all.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Chance said as they pushed through the exit.
Surprisingly, she had to agree. “Only because you were there.”
They were halfway across the parking lot when Rory spotted him.
Anthony Harris. Pete’s father was walking toward the double doors they had just exited.
She stalled. Chance stopped to see what she was staring at.
Anthony looked up. His gaze crashed into Rory’s.
She didn’t know what she expected. Maybe for him to run the other way.
Or for him to rush up to her and start screaming—or maybe to start the rant before he even took a step.
But he did none of those things. Instead, he continued forward, pausing when he reached her because she had not moved a muscle.
She stood motionless like a child in a game of freeze when the music stops.
Unlike Eudora, Rory had actually liked Anthony.
Even during the investigation and then the speedy trial, he’d remained stoic, not lashing out at her the way Eudora had.
“Rory,” he said, then shifted his attention to the man at her side.
“Chance Rader,” she explained, startled that her mouth worked. “From the Colby Agency. He’s a private investigator.”
Anthony made a sound of acknowledgment. Then he offered his hand. “I suppose you’re here to help her figure out where the police fell down on their job.”
Chance shook his hand. “I’m here to help her find the truth.”
Rory stuck on the comment about the police falling down on their job. He couldn’t possibly believe that. He’d been on Eudora’s side—firmly against Rory. She had suspected that the police did exactly what the Harrises wanted.
“Well, good luck with finding anything other than what was found before. Which, I’m sure you know, was nothing.
No evidence whatsoever to support her story.
Believe what you will, but the department did everything in their power to find all the facts.
” He looked at her then. “It’s been two years, Rory.
Just let it go. Admit what you did and let Eudora and me have some peace. ”
If he had slugged her, Rory wouldn’t have been more aggrieved. She certainly understood that during the trial he had believed she killed his son, but somehow she had hoped that in the nearly two years since, he would have come to see that it wasn’t possible.
Clearly, she had hoped for the impossible.
“I told the truth then,” she argued, “and I’m telling the truth now. I did not kill Pete. I couldn’t have.”
When she would have turned away, Anthony took her by the arm. Chance poised to intervene, but she put a hand against his chest to stop him. Let the man say whatever he had to say and get it over with.
“I know you believe that,” he urged. “I really do. You were always a good person, Rory, but you made a mistake. You went down a bad path. You can’t be sure what you did considering the drug you were on that night.
For the life of me, I cannot understand why on earth you felt the need to get high on your wedding night.
And why give it to Pete? He never did anything like that in his life. Did you slip it into the champagne?”
Rory barely restrained the tears his words elicited. She gently tugged her arm free of his hold. “I have never done drugs. Not then, not now. The intruders drugged us both. I’m sorry you believe the lies woven by the prosecution.”
She walked away, couldn’t bear anymore.
They got into Chance’s rental car, and she stared forward.
She watched Anthony enter the police department.
Had he known she was coming and showed up to have his say?
If he’d wanted to know what she was up to, Fowler would have kept him informed.
Pete’s parents got whatever they wanted in this town.
Always had and always would.
But they were not going to win this time. She had not killed Pete, and somehow she was going to prove it.
“You held your own with him,” Chance said as he backed out of the parking slot.
“I just told the truth.”
Her phone rang. The sound startled her. Shane’s name flashed across the screen. She held it up for Chance to see. “It’s Shane.”
While Chance listened, she answered the call, selecting the speaker option. “Shane?”
“Rory, we need to talk in private.”
She glanced at Chance and asked, “Where are you?”
“Meet me at my place. Bring the PI.”
“We’re heading that way now,” she assured him.
The call dropped off.
Chance pulled out of the parking lot. Rory held tightly to her cell phone, her heart pounding. Could Shane share something that changed everything? The better question was, would he?
Carter Residence
Old Larkinsville Road
Scottsboro, 6:45 p.m.
Shane’s truck was in the driveway now.
Chance parked behind it and shifted his attention to Rory. “When he comes to the door, let me go in first. If something feels off, you run back to the car and drive away.” He dropped the fob into the cupholder.
“And just leave you here?” She shook her head. “No way.”
“I can take care of myself, Rory,” he assured her. “Just do this, and I won’t have to worry about taking care of you too.”
She wanted to be offended, but he was right.
She had no real self-defense skills. The only physical fights she had been involved in were in the prison.
Both times she’d been pretty banged up. But it happened a lot to the new prisoners.
Especially ones like her who appeared privileged.
If those doing the beating had only known.
They emerged from the car, walked toward the rickety steps and porch. As soon as they were at the door, it opened. Shane motioned for them to come inside.
Chance walked in first. When he’d had a look around, he gave her a little nod, and she stepped inside as well. She closed the door and steeled herself for whatever was coming next. She didn’t want to feel threatened by Shane, but she didn’t really trust anyone anymore.
“You’ll have to overlook the whole cloak-and-dagger business.” He shrugged. “But I feel like things are going to get dicey very soon.”
“What do you mean?” Rory asked. She was glad Chance was letting her take the lead with Shane. He might not be as open if the PI, as he’d called him, were the one asking questions.
“You want to sit down?” Shane asked.
She gave him a smile—at least the closest thing to it she could drum up. “Sure.”
They settled on his sofa, which looked on the well-worn side but appeared clean.
Not like the sofa at Tay Banks’s house. Shane dropped into a chair that swiveled.
He turned so he could face Rory. The mobile home was old for sure.
The paneling was dark, the once white ceiling yellowed.
But it was clean. The newer vinyl plank flooring so popular these days shone as if it had been freshly mopped.
“I feel like I was a jerk for not speaking up back then. I suspected things weren’t going the way they should with the investigation, but what did I know?
I was a rookie. I don’t even know if I qualified as a rookie at that point.
But like I told you before, now is different. Now I see things and understand.”
“What is it,” Rory asked then, “that you see?”
“That they’re all lying.”
“Who is the they you mean?” Chance countered.
Rory held her breath, hoped the question wouldn’t cause Shane to hesitate.
“Everyone involved in the investigation,” he explained without missing a beat. “Fowler. The DA. Your own damn lawyer.”
Rory’s throat tightened. “What’re they lying about?”
Shane cleared his throat, stretched his neck as if needing to buy time.
Finally, he said, “There was a case over in Henagar about six months before…what happened to Pete. A couple guys broke into the house where these two women lived—they were a couple, like you and Pete. The perps roughed them up pretty badly.” He looked away.
“Assaulted one in other ways, if you know what I mean.” When he met Rory’s gaze, he said, “But nobody died. The perps just did what they did and took a few things of value. A laptop and phones. Some jewelry. Whatever money the women had in the house. Then split.”
Rory couldn’t speak for a moment. The realization that finally, over two years later, she was hearing this was good news, wasn’t it?
A shift in the paradigm. She should be overjoyed to learn the crime against her and Pete fit a pattern…
except fury roared inside her. Why had no one said anything back then?
Before she could launch the rant rising inside her, Chance spoke.
“Is there a reason this other case wasn’t considered during the initial investigation? ”
Shane shrugged. “Sure, but I still think it was a bad call. Since the two women were lesbians, the case was marked as a hate crime. The thinking was that the victims themselves made it different from Pete’s murder.
No one was killed, and there were actual items of value stolen.
Considering all that, it was decided that the other case wasn’t related.
But I can’t get it out of my head that maybe it was. ”
“Did they catch the perpetrators?” Chance pressed.
Shane scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about that case in over two years.”
“Was there a description of the intruders?” Rory suddenly realized why he was so hung up on this case.
If the intruders—perps—had looked different from the ones who attacked her and killed Pete, he would have said that, and the other case would have been irrelevant.
“They were wearing masks just like the two who came into the cottage, weren’t they? ”
Shane looked anywhere but at her. “Yeah. They were. Ski masks. Gloves. All black, just like you said about that night.”
Rory’s lips trembled. “Is there anything else about that case that’s similar to mine?”
He shook his head. “Not that I know about.”
Chance had his phone out. “I’ll need the names of the victims.”
Shane provided the names of the two women. “You can google them, and you’ll find some information. But not everything. There was a lot that was never released for, you know, the purpose of protecting the investigation.”
“But if you could find out this case existed,” Rory argued, “anyone could.”
“Sure. Like I said, Fowler agreed with the detective who investigated the case in Henagar. It was a hate crime. Not the same thing as what happened to Pete.”
Except every cell in Rory’s body screamed otherwise.