Secrets Never Die (Page 19)

She stopped to drink water. She screwed the top back on the bottle and set it on the table with a solid thunk. “Joe’s weakness was his ego. He was confident that I’d never turn on him. At the same time, he was sadistic and enjoyed hurting and humiliating people. He had no respect for women and focused on putting his sons to work in his business. He never considered that he’d made my life so miserable that I no longer feared death—or him. I testified. He went to prison.”

“But he never threatened you directly?” the sheriff asked.

Tina shook her head. “You would not ask that question if you’d seen the look in his eyes as I testified. He would have loved nothing more than to strangle me with his own hands at that very moment. Several of his lieutenants were in the courtroom. One of them mouthed ‘You’re dead’ over and over.”

The sheriff’s face was grim, but he didn’t look shocked. How much of Tina’s story had he known? “Where did you go after the trial?”

“When I was younger, I worked under the table when I could and put away as much cash as possible, although Tyson found one of my hidey-holes once and beat me for keeping the money from him. After that, he required me to hand over my pay each week, but I always held some back.” Tina picked up the bottle and began to peel off the label. “After the trial, I took the money I’d hidden and ran. I used the cheapest forms of public transportation, mostly transit trains and buses, and paid cash for everything. This was before 9-11. Transportation security and rules were more relaxed back then. I spent the first month just running. Never staying in the same place more than one night. I didn’t have enough money to take me a great distance away, but the rural nature of Grey’s Hollow made it feel much farther from Newark than it really was. Still, I was looking over my shoulder for a long time.”

Morgan folded her hands on the table. “Did the prosecutor’s office try to get you into the witness protection program?”

Tina’s snort was filled with disgust. “Like I would have trusted them with my life. They put me in a safe house before the trial and had to move me three times because my location was leaked. I was better off on my own.”

“But you haven’t heard from Joe since he was released?” Lance wanted Tina to be clear.

“No.” Tina shook her head. “I hope he doesn’t even know where I am, which is why I didn’t want anyone asking questions back in Newark. I don’t want anyone reminding Joe that I exist or telling him where I am.”

But Lance bet Joe already knew. In today’s world of the internet, cameras, and constant connectivity, it wasn’t that hard to find someone if they weren’t making a massive effort to stay hidden. Tina had put down roots.

The sheriff stood. “Thank you for coming in, Mrs. Knox. I’m sure I’ll have more questions.”

Morgan followed Tina around the table toward the door.

Lance hung back. “I’ll meet you at the car.” He handed Morgan the keys to his Jeep. He wanted to have a cop-to-former-cop chat with the sheriff. He leaned close to her ear. “There are questions Tina should probably not hear.”

Nodding, Morgan took the keys. “We’ll be out back.”

After the women left, the sheriff crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Lance. “What do you want?”

“The truth.” Lance went for it. “Is Evan your only suspect?”

“No, but he is on the list.” The sheriff dropped back into his chair. “Mrs. Knox wants to downplay the friction between Evan and Paul, but the neighbor heard the yelling and saw the boy take a swing at Paul. I’d call that a fight, even if Evan was the aggressor.”

“Mrs. Knox explained the incident.”

“Which doesn’t change the fact that the kid is a hothead with impulse control issues.”

“He isn’t normally,” Lance argued.

“But he could have been Monday night.”

It was times like this when Lance missed being on the police force. He didn’t enjoy being locked out of an investigation, begging for scraps of evidence. “What can you tell me about the autopsy? Frank would have moved Paul to the top of the list.”

The sheriff sighed. “I can’t share the results of the medical examiner’s preliminary report at this time. After we’ve made an arrest, the suspect’s attorney will receive the autopsy information.”

Frustration filled Lance. Colgate wasn’t going to cooperate. But Lance would find Evan if he had to go over, around, or through the sheriff’s roadblocks.

“Maybe the shooting was an accident,” Colgate suggested. “Accidental shootings happen to experienced gun handlers. By Mrs. Knox’s own admission, Evan is a beginner.”

Lance pictured the position of Paul’s body. The shot to his abdomen had to have come first. The heavy bleeding indicated that Paul’s heart had been pumping after he’d been shot. He’d definitely been alive. The bullet to Paul’s head had hardly bled at all. That had likely stopped Paul’s heart. Plus, the centering of the shot indicated the killer was close. Lance envisioned the killer standing over Paul, watching him bleed, and firing the head shot at close range while Paul lay helpless. The belly shot could have been an accident, but there was no way the head shot was unintentional. That had been a cold act, one that put Lance in mind of an execution or a hired killer.

This had been nothing short of murder.

“Do you really think a sixteen-year-old kid could have shot Paul in the head?” Lance asked.

“I’ve seen worse.”

Sadly, so had Lance.

The sheriff tapped the manila file folder with a finger. “Maybe Paul and Evan got into a fight when Evan missed curfew. He’d ignored Paul’s texts and calls. He was angry with his father and transferred that anger to Paul. The Glock was out because Paul had been cleaning it. Evan picked it up and shot Paul. He has a history of impulsive behavior.”

“But I know this kid. He didn’t do this.” Lance paced the length of the table and back.

“You’re letting your personal feelings interfere with your objectivity. If you were one of my deputies, I’d pull you from the case. You can’t ignore evidence.” Colgate’s voice was calm and reasonable, the exact opposite of the emotional turmoil in Lance’s head.

But Lance’s instincts were screaming that they were missing the biggest part of the case, and Colgate was focusing on the pieces of evidence that supported his narrative.

The sheriff continued. “Paul was killed with a 9mm bullet, which is the same caliber as his own Glock. Paul’s weapon is still missing, so we don’t know if he was shot with his own gun or simply another gun of the same caliber.”

“9mm is a common caliber,” Lance argued. “If there aren’t two guns, then why is Evan bleeding too?”

“We don’t know that Evan was shot. You saw the broken glass in the kitchen. Maybe Paul and Evan got into a physical fight. Evan could have no more than a bloody nose.” The sheriff studied Lance for a few seconds. “Why do you think Mrs. Knox is holding back information? She didn’t tell me about the fighting between Evan and Paul. She also forgot to mention her father is a recently released felon.”

“She didn’t think either one of those things was related to Evan’s disappearance.”

The sheriff’s head-tilt and eyebrow-lift said he didn’t believe Lance’s answer. “Or she is worried that her son is guilty, which would also explain why she called you before she called the police when she found Paul’s body.”

Lance had no comment. Most people would have called 911 first.

“She knew you’d bring a criminal defense attorney.”

“Tina had no way of knowing that when she called me,” Lance said.

“It was a good bet. You and Ms. Dane live and work together. You always support each other.” The sheriff gathered his papers, indicating their discussion was over. “Finding Evan would be a hell of a lot easier if Mrs. Knox didn’t make me drag every bit of information out of her.”

Lance left the conference room more frustrated than when he’d gone in. The sheriff was right on all counts. Evan was a natural suspect. He’d been at the house at the time of death, which gave him opportunity. Paul’s gun provided the means, and the argument with Paul was motive.

But Lance couldn’t believe Evan capable of murdering Paul. The boy was an impulsive hothead, not a cool, cunning killer. Anything Evan did would have been unplanned and sloppily executed.

Which actually described the sheriff’s theory of Paul’s murder perfectly.

Chapter Thirteen

Sharp’s feet hit the pavement in a sloppy rhythm. His stride felt sluggish. He’d waited until the sun went down to run. Why the hell did he feel like he’d been run over by a bus?

The heat wasn’t helping. Well into the evening, the temperature was still above eighty degrees, and humidity hovered somewhere around 1,000 percent. He felt like he was jogging through soup.

He passed the bank and turned right. His duplex sat in the business district of town. He loved the convenience and small-town ambience. Old houses lined the streets. Branches of mature trees arced overhead. Before he’d been injured back in March, he’d run a brisk five miles every day and hit the gym a few times a week for strength training.