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Just his luck, he’d moved to a small town to get away from big-city cops who seemed to have more knowhow, only to run into an ex-New York detective. They don’t get much bigger than that. And this one seemed to know what she was doing. He’d sat across from enough law enforcement officers to know when he was dealing with a pro or a dud.
He was still trying to wrap his head around Stella’s behavior. Why had she gone off the deep end now when she’d always gone out of her way to be careful? Never letting anything so much as slip in the past. He needed to throw up in the worst way, but the last time he’d asked, the detective had pointed to the trashcan in the corner; how humiliating.
He knew there was a way for him to get out of this. He’d always had an exit plan. But for the life of him, he couldn’t think of it now that he needed it most. Plus, everything he’d learned in law school seemed to be one big jumble running around inside his head. He should be asking for a lawyer himself, but who in this hick town could represent him better than himself?
Just then, the door opened, and Officer Bailey stuck his head inside. “Hey, we’re back from the hospital. She’s screaming for her lawyer.”
“So get her one.”
“She says he’s her lawyer.”
“Well, she’s gonna have to find another since he’s also facing the same crimes as she is. They’re both headed to the chair.” Detective Sparks looked at Don Simpson like he was nothing more than a bug she was getting ready to squash.
“But I’m not. I never killed anyone.” Don found his voice.
“I wouldn’t know that now would I? Since you refuse to talk. Detective Branson should be here soon; maybe we could compare notes. He did find trace evidence at his scene after all. We can match it to ours and see if it leads back to you.”
“But it wasn’t me, I tell you.”
“Here’s what I know, Don; two women that were involved with you have been killed in the same fashion. Right now, we’re looking into other like crimes; what are the chances that we are going to find more of the same? If you want to walk away from this thing, you’d better start talking now. Did you help her in any way? Did you help get rid of the bodies after she killed them?”
Celia knew she had to question him a little bit differently than she would other suspects because of his law degree. The fact that he was out of his mind with fear was working in her favor for now, but how long will that last? So she kept pushing, asking questions as if she already knew the answers.
Don’s mind was no match for the bombardment of questions being asked, and hearing that Stella was trying to lawyer up only made him more nervous. The detective was right. He’s the one who had an association with those two women and the others that they were bound to find if they went searching.
He knew of at least two cases where someone else had been tried and convicted for Stella’s crimes, but as a lawyer, he also knows about convictions being overturned and the real culprit being brought to justice, sometimes years later. Stella’s first kill was almost twenty years ago. Funnily enough, no one had ever found the body.
Celia watched the differing expressions as they crossed her suspect’s face. Just one more push, and she knew she’d have him. “Stella’s going down for shooting at a cop; there’s no doubt about that. What do you think she’ll do to get a lighter sentence? Who can she give us to make that happen? Or do you think she’s looking forward to spending the rest of her life in jail?”
“Look, listen, I only had sex with them, and it was always consensual. I never hurt anyone. Melissa was a nice girl. Why would I want to hurt her?”
“None of that answers the question, Don.” Celia started to get up from her chair. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to go see what Stella has to say. Maybe she’s ready to make a deal.” She headed for the door, and he panicked. “No, wait, I’m telling you the truth. I never hurt any of those girls.”
“Who did Don?” Almost a whole lifetime of ingrained loyalty fought with self-preservation as Don stared back at the detective.
His life of debauchery flashed before his eyes, and at that moment, he wished he’d taken a different path, that he’d never been enticed by his father’s wife at such a young age. He knew what people would say, that she’d taken advantage of him, but he’d wanted it hadn’t he?
His mind replayed those early days when the young, vivacious beauty had first swept into his life and the years since. While Don was thinking the run, Celia had going was spitting out more and more information on the two of them.
