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“Why did you go to Bellingham two weeks ago? You went Monday night and returned Tuesday early afternoon.”
“I didn’t.”
“We have your truck on the ferry. Every license plate is logged when they drive on.”
“I loaned my truck to Marcy. Hers was in the shop, she’d woken up to a flat tire, and she had a doctor’s appointment. I mean, that’s what she told me.”
“Can anyone verify your alibi?”
He looked panicked for a minute. Then his eyes widened and he said, “Yes! Yes. Pete called me Tuesday morning—I usually don’t work until the afternoon, but he needed me to help stock the bar. He picked me up before eleven. I remember because I had loaned Marcy my truck.”
Avila stared at Matt, pleaded with him. “I swear to God, I swear on my sister’s grave, I didn’t know anything about the bombs. Nothing.”
Matt believed him.
“Write it out.” He slid a notebook and pen toward Avila.
The lawyer took the pen and said, “You don’t have enough to charge my client with murder.”
Matt raised an eyebrow. “I do.”
“Not first degree. Not premeditated. Before my client writes a word down, I want a plea agreement. Manslaughter, concurrent sentences.”
There was a knock on the window. “That’s up to the AUSA. She’ll be in here momentarily.” Matt got up, John followed suit.
Matt followed John to his office and closed the door. John settled at his desk, looking both defeated and angry, but he was beginning to regain his composure.
“Pete Dunlap has lived here his entire life, except for a few years. He was raised here, raised his family here. I went to his wife’s funeral. This is going to tear him up.”
“Murder affects more people than the victim. Family, friends, community—all victims.”
“I’m so angry, but mostly sad. How this could happen in my town. We’re good people here, Matt. Good, honest, hardworking people who care about each other. I brought her in.”
Now he was onto Marcy.
“Marcy Anderson had a solid record in Seattle, and she had a background with boats. She was in the Coast Guard. I would have hired her if I were in your shoes.”
“She killed ten people. Kidnapped a child. And she was one of mine.”
“One of the best things about a small town like this is that people know you. They trust you. They will look to you for guidance. And you’ll regain what you had.”
“That’s not going to be possible, not completely,” John said. “No one is going to forget what happened. How could they?”
“But you’re not to blame. You need to help return the town to the sanctuary it is for so many people.”
John nodded, though he still looked troubled. Matt hoped he took his words to heart.
“I need to talk to Donna. Apologize.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Matt said. “We were following the investigation where it took us. If she can’t see that, that’s her problem.”
“She’s still one of my constituents. She’s still somewhat of a friend.”
“I get that. But I’m telling you—tell her what happened, but don’t apologize for doing your job. Because one of these days, one of her people is going to go too far, and you’re going to have to arrest them. Just like Craig Martin and Valerie Sokola.”
“You’re probably right.”
“I am right.”
