Lucy’s requests. “They’re working on it. Anything else?”
“I’d love to nail down the timeline. The day before the killings as well as everything that happened after.”
“You looking for more alibi witnesses? Because the one they have is dying?”
Lucy shrugged. “This early in a case I try not to look for anything specific. It’s more about getting a feel for where any holes are, things that don’t line up and need clarification.”
“So it’s like we start over, a whole new investigation? Fresh eyes and all that?”
“It’s how I prefer to do things. My motto when it comes to cases someone else started is: trust no one, assume nothing.”
TK smiled at that. “No problem. That’s pretty much how I live my entire life.”
Chapter 8
THANKS TO THE time difference, they landed only an hour later than they’d taken off. Lucy let TK collect their rental—a silver Tahoe—while she checked in with Tommy and Wash back at Beacon Falls. It was the first time she’d flown since her leg injury and her ankle was swollen and throbbing, the damaged nerves shooting sparks of pain.
“How’s it coming?” she asked Wash, certain they wouldn’t have much to report. She’d been spoiled by having the cyber-wizards from the FBI’s High Tech Computer Crimes Taskforce at her beck and call.
To her surprise, both had already made progress. “The Justice Project has already gotten a court order for both brothers’ medical records and just sent them,” Tommy answered first. “I’m not seeing any evidence of wounds on either brother’s hands, but I’m really surprised the older brother was allowed to enter a plea at all. From his intake physical at the jail, he suffered from some pretty severe cognitive dysfunction—probably a combo of the drug use and multiple head injuries.”
“Interesting. See if you can pinpoint exactly when he began to have problems. Could it have been from the beating he took around the time of his arrest?”
“Maybe, yes. I’d need to see CAT scans and earlier reports of his functioning to even hazard a guess. Not sure how helpful it would be in any case since it wouldn’t clear the younger brother, Michael.”
“You never know. What about you, Wash? Were you able to create a timeline of everyone’s movements?”
“Yes and no. There are a lot of gaps—we simply don’t have the answers in the material we were given. It might be in the prosecutor’s files and was not turned over to the defense. Or the questions were simply never asked.”
“The lawyers at the Justice Project are supposed to be getting us access to all the evidence from the sheriff and the prosecutor.” Without the go-ahead to examine the original evidence, they’d be limited to witness interviews—witnesses from twenty-nine years after the events.
“They’re working on it. Said they’ll have an answer from the judge by the end of business today. In the meantime, I’ll send you what I have.”
“Good job. Thanks, guys.” She hung up just as TK approached, a set of keys dangling from her fingers.
“Canterville, here we come. The clerk gave me a map—said GPS always gets it wrong because there’s limited satellite coverage and cell towers out there.”
Lucy had to smile. So many of her cases took her to places where modern communications were hampered by geography. “No problems, I love good old-fashioned maps.”
“Great. I’ll drive, you navigate.”
Once they got out of Dallas, the drive down the interstate went quickly, but then they turned off onto the county road leading to Canterville, population 3,718. From the map, Canterville was at the heart of Blackwell County, which only had three thin squiggles of roads and one county highway traversing it. Large swaths of blank space filled up most of the county and only two other towns were marked on the map.
Lucy glanced out the window. Apparently, the blank space was filled with fields, crops, and cattle.
“I’d love to nail down the timeline. The day before the killings as well as everything that happened after.”
“You looking for more alibi witnesses? Because the one they have is dying?”
Lucy shrugged. “This early in a case I try not to look for anything specific. It’s more about getting a feel for where any holes are, things that don’t line up and need clarification.”
“So it’s like we start over, a whole new investigation? Fresh eyes and all that?”
“It’s how I prefer to do things. My motto when it comes to cases someone else started is: trust no one, assume nothing.”
TK smiled at that. “No problem. That’s pretty much how I live my entire life.”
Chapter 8
THANKS TO THE time difference, they landed only an hour later than they’d taken off. Lucy let TK collect their rental—a silver Tahoe—while she checked in with Tommy and Wash back at Beacon Falls. It was the first time she’d flown since her leg injury and her ankle was swollen and throbbing, the damaged nerves shooting sparks of pain.
“How’s it coming?” she asked Wash, certain they wouldn’t have much to report. She’d been spoiled by having the cyber-wizards from the FBI’s High Tech Computer Crimes Taskforce at her beck and call.
To her surprise, both had already made progress. “The Justice Project has already gotten a court order for both brothers’ medical records and just sent them,” Tommy answered first. “I’m not seeing any evidence of wounds on either brother’s hands, but I’m really surprised the older brother was allowed to enter a plea at all. From his intake physical at the jail, he suffered from some pretty severe cognitive dysfunction—probably a combo of the drug use and multiple head injuries.”
“Interesting. See if you can pinpoint exactly when he began to have problems. Could it have been from the beating he took around the time of his arrest?”
“Maybe, yes. I’d need to see CAT scans and earlier reports of his functioning to even hazard a guess. Not sure how helpful it would be in any case since it wouldn’t clear the younger brother, Michael.”
“You never know. What about you, Wash? Were you able to create a timeline of everyone’s movements?”
“Yes and no. There are a lot of gaps—we simply don’t have the answers in the material we were given. It might be in the prosecutor’s files and was not turned over to the defense. Or the questions were simply never asked.”
“The lawyers at the Justice Project are supposed to be getting us access to all the evidence from the sheriff and the prosecutor.” Without the go-ahead to examine the original evidence, they’d be limited to witness interviews—witnesses from twenty-nine years after the events.
“They’re working on it. Said they’ll have an answer from the judge by the end of business today. In the meantime, I’ll send you what I have.”
“Good job. Thanks, guys.” She hung up just as TK approached, a set of keys dangling from her fingers.
“Canterville, here we come. The clerk gave me a map—said GPS always gets it wrong because there’s limited satellite coverage and cell towers out there.”
Lucy had to smile. So many of her cases took her to places where modern communications were hampered by geography. “No problems, I love good old-fashioned maps.”
“Great. I’ll drive, you navigate.”
Once they got out of Dallas, the drive down the interstate went quickly, but then they turned off onto the county road leading to Canterville, population 3,718. From the map, Canterville was at the heart of Blackwell County, which only had three thin squiggles of roads and one county highway traversing it. Large swaths of blank space filled up most of the county and only two other towns were marked on the map.
Lucy glanced out the window. Apparently, the blank space was filled with fields, crops, and cattle.
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