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“It can look really simple from the outside to just swoop in and arrest someone, but there’s more to it than that. I can’t just take what Miranda says as pure evidence and convince a jury of a man’s guilt with only that. There has to be further evidence, more proof that demonstrates beyond a reasonable doubt that he is responsible for the things she says he is. And right now, we don’t havethat.”
“You’re acting like you don’t believe me,” she says.
“It isn’t that I don’t believe you. But we have one shot at things like murder trials. And when it is as massive and sensational as a case like this, there is an incredibly fine line that every investigator has to walk down. One tiny move out of line and the entire case will fall apart. If we were to bring someone to trial and didn’t have enough evidence, he could be acquitted, and then we would never be able to put him on trial again. That would be it. Is that something you want to happen?”
She looks stung and shakes her head. “No.”
“But you’re not doing enough,” Holden snaps. “None of you are. Did you even search the house where he kept her? Did you look at everything? She told you what happened to her. Isn’t it enough if you can go into the house and see it? There would be no other reason why Miranda would know what that house looks like or what’s in it, so doesn’t that prove she was held there?”
“I searched the house,” I tell him. “Extensively. I found no physical evidence of Miranda ever being held there. I couldn’t even find the room shedescribed.”
“Then you were looking in the wrong house,” she bursts out.
I look at her, my head tilting to the side. “The wronghouse?”
“It had to have been,” she says through a slight stammer. “I mean, I was there. I know what I saw. I know what happened to me. If you went into a house and you couldn’t find the room where he kept me, then you were obviously in the wrong house. That’s the onlyexplanation.”
It takes everything I have to maintain a straight face. I know she’s been through a lot, and I know that memories are so difficult in such traumatic situations, but I can’t just let this slide. “I searched the house you directed us to,” I tell her.
“Then you need to search it again,”Holden says. “You’re letting this monster get away with everything. What’s going to happen when he decides to do it again? When he goes after the nextperson?”
“He’s being properly monitored,” I say. “But this is exactly why I need to talk to Miranda about her interview. You need to understand how important it is to protect the investigation. If you say too much, you could compromise the entirething.”
“I can say whatever I want to say. They’re going to ask me questions and I’m going to answer them,” she says. “It’s myresponsibility.”
“It’s also your responsibility to make sure that the people who died are respected. And that the person who killed them is brought to justice. Don’t destroy that because you want your fifteen minutes of fame,” I say. I look down at her arms and notice some of the bandages have been removed. The rash has faded somewhat. “Looks like your wounds are healingwell.”
I walk out of the room and go home with a sick feeling in my stomach. This interview is not going to be good for us. I can just feel it.
The next morning I’m at the park where Miranda is being interviewed well before it starts. Detective Garrison is there along with Detective Chance. Sam had to stay back in Sherwood to handle some things in his own department, so I’m here on my own. Chance looks at me as I approach and I wait for the sarcastic comment. Instead, he reaches a hand out towardme.
“I want to apologize,” he says. “I acted out of line and I didn’t give you the respect you deserve. I hope you’ll forgive me and be willing to move pastit.”
“Of course,” I say, shaking his hand.
It helps with my willingness to forgive him that I highly doubt I will ever have the occasion to see or work with this man again after this. I’m not going to cry any tears over that. Just minutes before the interview is set to start, another officer I recognize from the department comes running up tous.
“Detective,” she says. “I was told to get this to you as soon aspossible.”
She hands him a small manilaenvelope.
“What isit?”
“I don’t know. It’s from thelab.”
“Thank you,” Detective Garrisonsays.
She nods dutifully and leaves. The detective looks at me and I give a nod toward theenvelope.
“Open it. Those must be the results of some of the forensic tests they ran from the camp,” I tell him. “They might have been able to identify blood types from Miranda’scabin.”
Garrison opens the envelope and pulls out the paper with theresults.
“It is about Miranda’s cabin,” he reports. “But I don’t think we’re going to have a very easy time making a match for thetype.”
He hands me the paper and I feel my heart start to pound in my chest and my pulse roar in my ears as I read the results. The backs of my eyes are burning with the heat building inside my head. I know I have to stay where I am. I can’t leave and do what I know needs to be done about this. The interview is about to start and the cameras are already rolling. Everything that’s happening in this area is being broadcast live, and that could include me at any given second. I have to maintain my composure, protect the integrity of the investigation, and wait for the interview to be over.
It’s painful standing here listening to Miranda as she clings hard to Holden’s hand beside her and recounts her harrowing ordeal. She describes to them the same thing she told me, that she was captured and kept in a house she didn’t recognize. She was given no food or water. No medical care. She was suffering from her injuries and terrified about what was going to happen.
