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Sosa shifted the subject. “Mr. Fairchild, I see you have a healing wound on your forehead. How did that happen?”
“I fell,” Nyles said.
“And when you fell, did it scrape the skin? Did you bleed?” Sosa asked.
“Obviously. There’s a visible scab, or you wouldn’t have commented,” Nyles snapped.
“Mr. Fairchild, when we first questioned you, did you allow us to take fingerprints and a DNA sample from you?”
A cold chill ran through Nyles so fast he shuddered, then nodded.
“For the record, Mr. Fairchild, please answer aloud,” Sosa said.
“Yes, I did,” Nyles mumbled.
“So, our witness saw Conrad fall, and when he got up, blood was gushing from the cut, and he was throwing all kinds of things into the trunk of his car, including a camp shovel, a hiker’s backpack, and a metal detector. Oh…and a handgun.”
“I don’t own a handgun!” Nyles shouted.
“So, you deny that,” Sosa said. “However, our witnesssays otherwise. And the crime lab gathered DNA from the scene of Conrad’s fall in Jubilee. When your DNA matches the DNA they have on file belonging to Dirk Conrad, you won’t be able to deny that, will you, Mr. Fairchild?”
And in that moment, Nyles knew all was lost. He didn’t even look at the lawyer.
“It all began as a lark! I was curious. I just wanted to verify information from the journal for myself. It was an accident! I didn’t mean to shoot anybody. I thought it was a bear! And then I panicked and ran. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong! It just snowballed and I didn’t know how to stop it!” Nyles said, and then began to weep.
“Where did you get the gun?” Sosa asked.
“I inherited it from my grandfather,” Nyles said.
“Where is it now?” Sosa asked.
“I threw it in the Potomac,” Nyles moaned, and covered his face.
The surge of elation that went through both detectives was huge, and having the shooter confess on record was icing on the cake.
“Detective King, would you please read Mr. Fairchild his rights and put him under arrest for the attempted murder of Charlie Raines, and add fraud and possession of an unregistered weapon to the charges?”
King stood up, and as he was cuffing Fairchild, read him his rights, then led him away.
Cheryl Vlasek’s head was throbbing as she began gathering up her things.
“Thank you, Ms. Vlasek,” Sosa said as he removed the tape from the recorder.
“Just doing my job,” Cheryl said. “I’ll see you at the sentencing.”
Sosa followed her to the door and waved down an officer.
“Will you please see Ms. Vlasek out?” Sosa asked, and then watched them walk away before he headed back to his desk. He needed to enter the tape into evidence and write up the report, but before he did that, he had a phone call to make.
Rance Woodley was on his way home, driving through a late evening thunderstorm when his cell phone rang. He answered on Bluetooth so he could keep both hands on the wheel.
“Hello, this is Woodley.”
“Good evening, Sheriff. This is Detective Sosa.”
“Did you get the files I sent okay?” Rance asked.
“Yes, I did, and I have something for you,” Sosa said.
