AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Samantha Ortiz’s name was brought up several times during the day.”
At the mention of her name, Benson grabbed his bottle of beer off the coffee table and tossed back the remainder of it. “Why?”
“That lady across the street from Trent and Sam’s place—the one who saw me go to their house the night of the murder—is telling people that I must have snuck into the house and killed Sam.”
“I can’t imagine people believing much of what Mrs. Henderson says. She’s close to ninety and is not the most reliable person mentally. She couldn’t have seen you go into the house since you said no one answered the door when you rang the bell. Besides, you stopped by at nine. Trent and Sam were at the bar at that time.”
“I told them that, but it’s my word against hers.”
“Did you tell people that the killer is in prison?” Or so the court decided.
Benson never liked circumstantial evidence, but with Trent, everything pointed to his guilt. The most damning evidence was the fact his fingerprints were on the knife that killed Samantha.
To make matters worse, statistics were against him. He was in bed with her when she died, and he was the one who called in the murder. The jury probably couldn’t believe a man wouldn’t be aware that someone had entered the house and killed her. Samantha must have struggled and made some sort of noise. The thrashing alone should have woken Trent.
“I’m still not totally convinced he is guilty,” Preston said. “Why use his own knife? If I stabbed someone, I would have used a new knife and worn gloves.”
Benson chuckled. “You should have been the public defender. Ackerman was not on his game. Normally, I have to work hard to beat him, but not this time.”
“Maybe he knew he couldn’t win against the great Benson Granger.”
Benson held up his middle finger. “Hardly. The man didn’t even try to discredit my witnesses.”
Preston sobered. “Could he be ill?”
“I hope not. I respect the man.”
Preston dropped down onto the leather chair across from the sofa. “You never mentioned your concerns before. What’s up?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. The case was too clean cut, and that bothers me.”
“Maybe the decision came quickly because Trent really did kill his girlfriend.”
“Perhaps he did. Here’s the thing, though. Trent’s parents were killed when he was nineteen, and then he raised his fifteen-year-old sister. He can’t be all bad.”
“That would be tough on anyone, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t angry against the world. I thought you said he’d been arrested numerous times?”
“He was. I think that was what partially swayed the jurors, even though I never brought that fact up in court. You know as well as anyone you can’t hide anything in our small town.”
“Amen to that. What does your uncle think?”
“Uncle Adam is closed-lipped about it. As sheriff, he can’t tell me anything. That would be a conflict of interest.”
“So now what?”
“I don’t know. You weren’t there, but the anguish in his sister’s eyes will haunt me until I die,” Benson said.
Preston chuckled. “I have never seen you like this. Did something else happen?”
Had it? “I don’t think so. I should be celebrating, not replaying the case in my mind.”
Preston finished off his beer. “How about I change, and we go to the Double G for a drink? You never did take your victory lap for winning.”
Benson smiled. “Maybe that’s what I need.”
* * *
“I can help you pack up Trent’s things tomorrow night,” Beth Grant said.
