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This was it.
I made the short walk from my truck to the building and knocked once.
"You must be Jayden," A pale, thin redhead smiled when she opened the door. I nodded. "Perfect. Mr. Baylor is ready for you." I followed her through the brightly lit entryway and down a narrow hallway that led to a closed office door.
"Mr. Baylor," the redhead called out, opening the office door. "Mr. Jayden De Luca is here to see you."
"Come on in, Son," the older man smiled, his southern draw thick for this far north. "Have a seat." He gestured to two leather chairs in front of his desk. I slid into one. "So, you're here to discuss Ryan Prescott?" I nodded. "How can I help you?"
"I'm a friend of his daughter, Sadie," I explained. "I met with Mr. Prescott, and he thinks Sadie could be in danger. He swears he didn't do this and that his wife did. He suggested I look at the evidence myself if I didn't believe him. I was hoping you could help me with that."
"Yeah." He smiled a sad smile. "I had Brenda pull everything and put it in the conference room for you. Since he's going through the appeals process with a new attorney, I'll be handing it all over to him in the next few days."
"Do you think he's innocent?" I asked, my gaze focused on his facial expressions as I tried to read him.
His face grew serious as his gaze locked on mine. "I have no doubt in my mind," he said. "And once you go through the evidence and see the shit show of a trial he got, you'll know too. This is a small town, and they decided he was guilty before he was even booked into the jail." He sucked in a deep breath; his gaze trailed off like he was recalling everything. Then, shaking his head, he blew out his heavy breath. "Stuff like this doesn't happen here, and the town wanted to deal with this quickly, and they did, but they put the wrong person behind those bars."
It was clear Mr. Baylor believed with every ounce of his being that Mr. Prescott did not kill his children.
"Why aren't you handling his appeal?" I questioned, narrowing my eyes. I tilted my head slightly. If he truly believed Mr. Prescott was innocent, it didn't make sense for him to hand the case over to someone else.
"While I believe I am a good lawyer," he said, rocking back in his chair as he intertwined his fingers in front of him, "he needs a shark. Someone with a massive following that can get the word out about what happened and the level of injustice he's endured." He shrugged. "He just hired Timothy Kane. If anyone can get this case into the appeals court, it's him, and I did offer my services if they need them."
"I appreciate your help." I forced a smile.
"Come on, Son," he said, pushing out of his chair. "I'll take you to the conference room." I followed him out of the office and into the narrow hallway to the second door on the right. "Feel free to take as long as you need," he said once I was in the room looking over the boxes.
"Where's the 9-1-1 recording of Sadie?" I wanted to start there.
"Everything is cataloged on that list right there," he said, pointing to the white sheet of paper in the center of the table. "It will tell you what we have and what box to find it in." I nodded, pulling the list to me. "Let me know if you need anything else." He stepped out, shutting the door behind him.
I spent the next six hours digging through everything, and the lawyer was right. I was convinced that Ryan Prescott didn't hurt his kids.
I listened to the 9-1-1 call Sadie made from her neighbor's house. She clearly stated that she saw her mother kill her sisters. The documents from the medical team that described Kara Prescott's wound did report that they could have been self-inflicted. Along with hundreds of other pieces of evidence that would have been enough for a jury to have reasonable doubt, were never admitted into evidence.
As I neatly packed everything away, my gaze landed on her neighbor's name, Brandon Moore. He had been her friend at the time. I needed to talk to him.
Pulling out my phone, I punched in the number listed on the paperwork. What were the chances he'd still have the same number after all these years?
"Hello," a deep male voice sounded through the speaker.
"Brandon Moore?"
"This is him," he said. "Who is this?"
"My name is Jayden De Luca, and I'm a friend of Sadie Prescott's," I started.
"Sadie," he repeated. "Is she okay?" He cared about her.
"Yes," I said. "I was hoping I could ask you a few questions. Can you meet me sometime today?"
"I'm free now," he said.
He gave me a meeting place right around the corner, and we disconnected.
I finished packing everything and thanked Mr. Baylor and Brenda again before leaving.
I made the short drive to the location Brandon gave me. Only one person was in the deserted park, and I assumed it was Brandon.
