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“I believe it,” Jamie said.
Cal walked them out. He hugged Kara, then shook Michael’s hand. “She’s okay. Dehydrated, broken wrist, bruises, but she’s okay, and so far, the baby is okay. It’s a boy. She’s fourteen weeks. And I didn’t know they could tell the sex that early, but they did a bunch of tests on her and the baby and asked if we wanted to know. Jamie’s dad is on his way, he’ll be here tonight. We can’t go into his house yet, but the sheriff says tomorrow.”
“I would get a cleaning crew in first. You don’t want to see it,” Kara said.
“Yeah, I’ll do that. I—I never thanked you for what you did. What you risked for my family, first Hazel, then Jamie. This was my fault. I brought that nutcase woman into Jamie’s life.”
“No, Cal, this is all on Marcy Anderson,” said Kara. “Don’t ever forget that.”
“Yeah. Well. I, um—I pray Jamie will forgive me.”
“Piece of advice? Forgive yourself first. The rest will come.”
39
Sheriff John Rasmussen had been having a difficult twenty-four hours from handling the press, multiple agencies, and his own staff who learned about Marcy’s crimes, which needed to be addressed. But Matt wanted him in the interrogation room with Damon Avila. Not just because Avila’s family was local and the sheriff should be involved, but because it might give him more pieces to the bigger puzzle of how Marcy put together this complex frame job.
Matt debriefed John, and the sheriff was on the same page with him, so when they walked into the interrogation room with Avila and his lawyer—a public defender from the county who looked near retirement age—they had a united front. An assistant US attorney had arrived earlier in the morning and was observing from the observation room. It would help expedite any legal agreements should Avila want to talk. Matt had already received a bit of leeway from the government lawyer, so he didn’t have to jump up and down to get permissions.
He went through preliminary questions with Avila and the lawyer. Avila looked like he hadn’t slept much, and he was drinking Dr Pepper and water, alternating between the soda and the water bottle.
“Again, Mr. Avila,” Matt said, “I appreciate your willingness to answer a few questions now that you have your lawyer present.”
“Depends what type of questions,” the lawyer said.
“I’m going to lay my cards on the table,” Matt said. At least some of them, he thought. “First, we executed a legal search warrant yesterday on Mr. Avila’s property that yielded evidence of bomb making. A working bomb was found that nearly killed one of my team members. Files that had been in the possession of retired agent Neil Devereaux were also found in his house. Files and notes that showed that Neil suspected Damon Avila of murder. This is what we call a clear motive.”
“I didn’t make any bombs,” Avila said. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
His lawyer put a hand on Avila’s arm. “I know that the person you suspect of bombing theWater Lilycommitted suicide last night, and that a statement by a victim showed that Ms. Anderson did in fact plant a bomb on a trawler that nearly killed several people. Clearly, the evidence was planted in Mr. Avila’s house. He has no expertise in bombs or bomb making.”
“A working theory at this point is that Ms. Anderson and Mr. Avila worked together. Ms. Anderson wanted to kill her ex-boyfriend Cal McKinnon, and Mr. Avila wanted to kill Neil Devereaux, who had uncovered evidence that Mr. Avila killed five people over the course of the last thirteen years.”
Avila’s face paled. He didn’t say anything.
“You will not be able to prove any of it,” the lawyer said. “My client has nothing to do with the bombings, and the idea that he is some sort of serial killer? You’re pulling that out of thin air.”
“The evidence will prove it,” Matt said. “A bomb in his house. Documents stolen from Neil that include Neil naming Mr. Avila as a suspect in these deaths. I can get a dozen sworn statements that Anderson and your client were friends and spent a lot of time together. Mr. Avila was on the mainland the same time that C-4 went missing, and one of his former students who he continued to tutor in math worked at the construction company where the C-4 went missing from. I can tie this case up with a pretty little bow for the prosecution. And with Ms. Anderson dead, the people will want justice. This is a death penalty case. Murder with special circumstances.”
Avila opened his mouth. The lawyer stopped him from talking. “With Ms. Anderson dead, you have no evidence that my client has done anything wrong.”
“A bomb was found in Mr. Avila’s house in the box of documents stolen from Neil Devereaux. Those documents have already been read and processed—Neil’s fingerprints were all over them, the notes were in his handwriting. That is enough evidence to keep your client held without bail. The court system doesn’t take kindly to domestic terrorists.”
Avila shook his head.
His lawyer said, “You’re jumping the gun on this, Agent Costa. I know that a search of Ms. Anderson’s apartment yielded more documentation of bombs and bomb making as well as her obsession with her ex-boyfriend. Photos, letters, plans. On her person was found passports for her and the young child she planned to kidnap. It’s clear she was the sole bomber.”
Someone had talked out of school about the passports. The search of her property? That was very public, but the passports were not. That irritated Matt, but he didn’t say anything.
John did, however. “Where did you hear about the passports, Roger?”
“I don’t have to tell you that. I know it’s true. And you don’t have a case.”
Matt wondered if Avila had helped Anderson with the passports. Maybe...maybe. But they hadn’t found anything that pointed them in that direction at either property.
Matt pulled a file from his briefcase and slid it over to Avila. The lawyer took it first, opened it.
“What am I looking at?” he asked.
