33. Nicolette #2
He nodded with a sad frown. “That’s how I know Riot didn’t have a devil in him.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”
“Picture it…you’vejuststabbedyour mother. If a person’s soulistruly evil, you burn the body first, give it one last indignity. If youhaveremorse in you — you burn the house from the outside, because you can’t stand to see what you did.”
Only Riot didn’t do anything. That fierce defensivenessgripped me.
Over both of them.I’llnever say what Brennan didwasright, but hewasout of his mind with fear and Ifoundit understandable for a mind that brilliant to do what itthoughtithadto for self-preservation. Itooka breath to dispel my thoughts.
“Do they know where the firestarted?”
“I can’t recall, but I thinkI’vegota copy of the case records in the basement.I’mnotsupposedto share them but I don’t reckon it’ll do any harm now.You’rewelcome to take a peek.”Inoddedfervently. Heclickedsome buttons to move the chair to help him stand.
I followed him down the narrow stairs. A tick of anxious energy picked my heart up a beat, remembering how I was locked in the records room the last time I followed a man down into the basement. That reminded me.
“Did you know Grace before that? ”
“Of course. Sweetheart, shewas.Helpedshape that church right up.”
“Wasshe in a relationship with Geoffrey Brown?”
He paused on the bottom step and attempted to turn to me over his shoulder. “Hm, I don’t see that being likely. I always thought Geoff was kind of a doofus.” I hid my smirk.
“Riot said he was hanging around a lot that summer before she died. Said they got into an argument. Something about stealing money?”
Now Emery turned to give me his full attention. He studied my features almost as if he were looking at the ghost of Grace Asher herself. The little color that was left in his face drained and he gazed down, to the side, remembering something.
“You know, she called me a few days before she died. Said she wanted to talk to me about something she thought she uncovered. I never got the chance to call her back.” His eyes turned down. “Poor woman. Your own boy…” He shook his head and continued deeper into the basement.
Emery fumbled with a string that made a free-swinging lightbulb come to life. There were dozens of boxes all labeled with different years and names.
“Not exactly the most secure filing system, is it?” I muttered.
“Therewasa big movement a few years back to digitize most of it. Theyplannedto shred and destroy the original copies. Isnaggeda few of the cases.Feltlike an insult to the dead to just burn all their stories, even if theywerebackedup in some kinda rain cloud or harsh drive.”
He raised his arms to a box labeled “Asher, Grace” but bent over in a coughing fit. It sounded like chunks of his lungs were dislodging in his throat.
“’Scuse me,”hesaidwith a hand to his mouth.“The drugs help with the inflammation, but the dust still kills me.”
I hurried to grab the box down before he attempted it again. An eager excitement sent a tingle over my skin. Inside were dozens of file folders. I flipped through until I found the fire marshal’s report. I scanned the paper.
Origins of the firebeganin the back of the house.
Signs of accelerant detected.
Extreme damage to the back porch’s outer walls.
Riot thought one of his mother’s candles had been knocked over. My heart began to pick up, realizing just how many inconsistencies there were.
The next file that caught my eye was the official autopsy report.
Ipulledout the Xeroxed copy of the handwritten notes thatwerescribbledall over the official report page.
Readingthe official cause of death, a cold chillcreptup my body.
Asphyxiation
I spun to Emery and held up the paper. “This says Grace Asher died from asphyxiation.” My tone was more accusing than I meant for it to be.
He nodded grimly. “Why do you think that boy only got voluntary manslaughter instead of murder one?”
“Itwasa crime of passion, murder requires premeditated intent.”
“Sweetheart, he drove three hours home in the middle of the night. The prosecutors would have painted him with intent.” I frowned, knowing he was right. “If the smoke inhalation hadn’t killed her, the stab wounds probably would have.”
“Probably?”
He shrugged. “Hard to tell with belly wounds. With immediate medical attention, it’s not a death sentence but she was already gone before the responders got there and Riot was already claiming responsibility.”
Ifrowneddeeper. Did Riot know the official cause of death?
A fresh wave of dreadwashedover me. Ihadto tell him about the assignment and Ihadto do it soon.
The truth would be the only explanation for why Ihadspentso much timelookingat the police reports.
Itwasthe right thing to do. And now Ihadinformation that might helpputhis mind at ease.
Idugthrough the box a little longer. A chillrandown my back when Ispottedthe knife, stillwrappedin an evidence bag. Deep rust-coloredsplotches still speckled the instrument.
Something about it pulled at my heart. The last person to touch this was Riot, a terrified eighteen-year-old boy who just lost his mother and was facing the likelihood of losing his brother too.
Underneath it, I spotted another evidence bag containing an older model cell phone, cracked on all sides.
“Did they find anything on her phone?”
“Itwasbusted, we couldn’t even power it on and didn’thavethe resources or even see the need to send it to the state’s tech department.”
“You didn’t see a need?”Iasked, incredulous.
“Sweetheart, the casewasopen andshut.”Hewatchedme with a flat, albeit sad, frown.
“Believe me, Iwasheartbroken like the rest of them. IwatchedRiot Asher grow up.Coachedhim myself in football during elementary school.” Emerysmiledfondly likehe’dbeen some kind of mentor.
“Hewasgoingtoputthis town on the map with those athletic talents of his. I didn’t want it to be true.
That hehadit in him to kill his own mama.
But hehadthe weapon. Headmittedto it freely on every occasion.
The boywasgiventhe opportunity to plead not guilty.
Heck, part of mewashopinghe would so that he could stand trial.
I don’t thinkyou’dfind twelve people in this whole state who wouldhavesentthe pride of West Virginia football to prison.
But herefused.Saidhe did it and that the remorsewascrippling.
Hewantedto startpayingfor his crime.
He didn’t want to drag his family through any more of a media circus with some big investigation and court trial. ”
‘Cause he didn’t want to risk them finding out itwasBrennan. Then Brennan wouldhavestoodtrial, which most certainly would not go the same way EmerypredictedRiot’s would.
“Can I borrow this?” I held up the bagged cell phone.
“Oh, no, I’m not even supposed to be letting you go through this stuff.”
“Please? I just want to find some old pictures of the family, share them with the boys, you know.”
He shook his head. “Sorry, Miss Parker, I may be retired but chain of custody is still important.”
I smiled and nodded. “Which of these other cases were memorable to you?” I asked, batting my eyes, feigning curiosity.
“Oh, let’s see. There was one back in ninety-five, missing twin…”
When hespunaround, Isnappeda few pictures of the autopsy report, the fire report. Ipausedat the crime scene photos. I didn’t get a good look at them but I could tell itwasgruesome. Isnappedpictures of them plus the autopsy photos while Emerydugthrough a box.
“Poor thing was lost in the woods for three days…” he went on.
“Wow,” I said admirably, keeping my eyes on the back of his head. “The family must have been so relieved.”
As Emery went on about how he brought the little girl home, I started to pack all the files back in the Grace Asher box, picking up the top and blocking any possible view of my hand swiping the bagged cell phone.
I pulled the phone out of the bag and secured it in the back of my waistband.
Closing the box, I stepped beside Emery and pushed the evidence box back into place.
“Well thank you, Mr. Plainbottom. This was a big help.” I smiled sincerely.