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The task is done, just the way you asked.
M
?“What is that?” Mark demanded.
?“Look at the recipient,” DeStadler chuckled, and I could tell he enjoyed this.
?On the address line was [email protected]
?My email address.
?“Also look when it was sent,” De Staler exulted, quite pleased with himself.
?The message was dated on Thursday morning at 03:45 AM.
?“I—I—” Mark said profoundly.
?“This is bullshit,” I barked, furious.
?“Oh, I don’t know, Ms. Homes,” DeStadler said. “That is your e-mail address, isn’t it?”
?“Yes, it is, detective,” I fumed. “I think the fact that this was sent from here makes it obviously planted, even to you.”
?“Looks to me like it proves a connection, and that the two of you planned these murders,” DeStadler accused. “Cuff him, officer.”
?Mark was whirled around and cuffs once again were slapped on his wrists.
?“Really, Detective DeStadler,” I complained. “I was staying in the hotel and didn’t bring a laptop or tablet. I wouldn’t return home to my computer until Monday. Why would Mark send me a traceable e-mail when he could just walk down the hall and tell me, without leaving a record?”
?DeStadler paused for a moment. Apparently, this idea had not occurred to him. But he blustered through it. “You could have read it on your phone. Besides, Bobby hasn’t had a chance to dig very deep. I’m sure there are a lot more messages between the two of you that were erased.”
?At this point, I’d had it. I got into his face. “Wouldn’t a more logical theory be that whoever drugged Mark and moved him to this room dashed off a quick e-mail to incriminate us?”
?DeStadler took a step back and glanced at Bobby.
?Bobby shrugged. “The computer isn’t password protected. Anyone could have turned it on and sent the e-mail.”
?“Bring that,” he spat at Bobby and pointed at the laptop. “And bring him,” he said to an officer who pushed Mark forward.
?“You can’t!” I yelled.
?“Oh yes, I can,” DeStadler roared. “I brought an arrest warrant for Mr. Watkins, and Detective Elvis will be executing a search warrant at your residence.”
?“
My place?” I said. I had to admit, this threw me.
?“You have a choice,” DeStadler jeered. “You can give me your keys, or we can break down the door.”
?I reached into my pocketbook, extracted the keys, and handed them over to the detective. “Where will I stay, while you violate my property?”
?He shrugged. “You can stay here at the hotel, or if you prefer, I can arrange for you to spend the night in a holding cell.”
?I was whipped. No point dragging it out. “I’ll stay here.”
?“Don’t leave the hotel,” DeStadler ordered.
