What I've Done (Page 17)

“Where Haley works as a social media coordinator.”

“Yes,” Morgan confirmed. “Multiple witnesses stated that’s where they met.”

“We’ll put Noah’s boss and his company on the background-check list I gave my mother last night.” Lance added them to the bottom of the board. “What do we have on Noah’s parents?”

“A few basics. They live in a nice neighborhood. Mr. Carter is a project manager for a construction company. Noah’s mother is a dental hygienist. No obvious financial problems. In addition to Adam, the Carters have a daughter, Penelope, age twenty-two. She is on her way home from college in Oregon. On the surface they appear to be a typical middle-class family.”

Lance listed Mr. and Mrs. Carter on the board. “Who did Haley go out with on the night of Noah’s murder?”

Morgan scrolled. “Her name is Piper Allen. She’s an IT tech for the bank. According to her statement, last Friday was her birthday. She and Haley went out to celebrate. Piper left the club at eleven. She doesn’t know what time Haley left.” Morgan looked up from the screen.

“She goes to the top of our interview list.” Lance wrote her name down. “What about Noah? Did he go to the club alone that night?”

“No. He was out with three friends. Justin O’Brien is a freelance graphic artist. Isaac McGee is a software engineer, and Chase Baker works in the accounting department of a local credit union. All three confirm that they left the club around one a.m. Haley and Noah left at the same time, together. The police have a copy of the surveillance video that confirms this. They also interviewed club employees and patrons. So far, all the statements match in basics. We do not have a copy of the surveillance tape yet.”

“We’ll need to talk to all three of Noah’s pals and visit the club.” Lance wrote the young men’s names on the list. He stepped back and scanned the board. They were off to a good start. “Now, what about Haley? I’m having a hard time picturing her overpowering a healthy young man. She’s small. Noah had a generous size advantage.”

“Maybe she took him by surprise,” Morgan suggested.

“That plays right into the prosecutor’s murder charge,” Lance pointed out. “Self-defense doesn’t allow for sneaking.”

“Damn it.” Clearly frustrated, Morgan blew a hair off her face. “Could he have attacked her in the kitchen, and she grabbed whatever was handy to defend herself?”

“A knife isn’t a good weapon for an untrained woman. It’s too easily taken away and used against her.”

“But maybe he didn’t expect her to fight back. Or maybe he didn’t see her grab the knife.” Morgan rubbed her forehead.

“Good possibilities.” Lance added the questions to the board.

Behind him, Morgan was quiet. He glanced over his shoulder. Her face was grim.

“What’s wrong?” He turned around.

“I’m reading the sheriff’s initial interview with Haley.”

“And?”

“It’s disturbing.”

“Is Haley disturbing or Colgate?”

“It’s all disturbing, actually.” Morgan nodded toward the printer, which started to hum and spit out papers. “I printed you a copy of the interview and the police reports.”

“Colgate has been in law enforcement a long time. I’ve never heard of any scandals associated with him.” Lance collected the papers, then he perched on the corner of her desk and began to skim through the pages. “When did the call come in?”

“At eleven fifteen a.m. on Saturday, one of Noah’s neighbors heard a woman screaming outside and called 911. The deputy arrived ten minutes later and found Haley kneeling over the body. He confirmed that Noah was dead and called for backup. Haley was rocking back and forth on the grass, asking, ‘What have I done?’ over and over. He asked her for her name and address, but she did not respond to his questions. She was compliant but, in his words, ‘out of it.’ He asked her if she was injured, and she shook her head, indicating that she was not.” Morgan huffed. “Considering her mental state, she could have been seriously injured and not known it.”

Lance found the correct page on the police report. “The deputy also stated that he looked her over for injuries and found none.”

“He is not a doctor.” Morgan frowned. “He should have called an ambulance. She could have had a head injury or been under the influence of drugs. She could have been raped.”

“I agree.” Lance moved to the next page. “But he didn’t. And when she finally was examined, there was no evidence that any of those things occurred.” He held up a hand before she could protest. “We know too much time had passed for some of those tests.”

“But I’ll never be able to convince a jury the deputy didn’t make the right call.” Morgan rubbed the back of her neck and then went back to reading her computer screen. “At that point, the deputy gave up on getting any information out of her. She was wearing only the thin black dress. Her lips were tinted blue, and she was shivering. Not knowing what had happened inside the house, he didn’t want to enter the building without backup. The temperature was below freezing that morning. Concerned for her welfare, but also worried that she could be the killer, he handcuffed Haley and put her in the back of his car with the heater running to wait for the sheriff, who was on his way.”

Lance skimmed the next page. “Once backup arrived, the deputies cleared the house to make sure no one else was inside, dead or alive. The crime scene was secured, and the medical examiner and forensic team were called in forty-five minutes after the initial 911 call. The sheriff interviewed Haley in the back of the patrol car. The inside of the car was warm, but she still appeared to be cold, so he got her a blanket. During this very brief interview, Haley repeated her initial statement of ‘What have I done?’ Then she turned away and refused to speak anymore.” Lance lowered the papers.

“Colgate didn’t push very hard.” Morgan leaned back in her chair, picked up a pen, and drew circles on the bottom of her legal pad.

“At that point, he didn’t know about the fingerprints on the knife. He was covering his bases and not making assumptions.”

“Good point.” Morgan pointed her pen at her computer screen. “The deputies found her purse inside the house and identified her via her driver’s license. The sheriff decided to bring her into the station for further questioning.”

“He hoped the trip to the sheriff’s station would get her talking.” That’s exactly what Lance would have done.

“No doubt.” Morgan nodded. “That’s the end of the on-scene interview.”

“That’s a good start.” Except that Morgan’s new client looked pretty damned guilty.

Lance’s stomach rumbled. He glanced at his watched. It was two p.m. “We should eat. We missed lunch.”

Engrossed in her reading, Morgan waved a hand. “You go ahead. I’m going to watch Haley’s video interviews at the sheriff’s station.”

“You need to eat.” Lance sighed. “Do you want me to make you one of Sharp’s protein shakes or order pizza?”

Morgan’s head snapped up. “Did you say pizza?”

He pulled out his phone. “Extra cheese and mushrooms?”

“Yes, please.” She turned back to her computer.

“Don’t start that video without me.” Lance placed the order and requested delivery.

Morgan wrote on her legal pad. “The sheriff began questioning her at 1:53 p.m. The forensics team had taken her fingerprints and swabbed her cheek for DNA at the scene. They also sampled the dried blood on her body from multiple locations and scraped under her nails. I’m surprised they didn’t request her dress as evidence.”

Lance rounded Morgan’s desk and perched on her credenza to watch the computer screen over her shoulder. The video was frozen on the first frame. Haley huddled in the metal chair in the sheriff’s station interview room. The sheriff and a young deputy sat on the other side of the table. Haley was no longer handcuffed, and she clutched a blanket around her shoulders. Her face was smeared with makeup.

“The dress is tight and skimpy,” Lance said. “She looks uncomfortable in it. I suspect the sheriff wanted her to remain that way. Besides, the dress wasn’t going anywhere. It’s not torn or damaged. She had no way to dispose of it. She’s already complied with their requests for physical evidence, and she wasn’t claiming to have been raped. Plus, he’d have to find something for her to wear or let her use the phone to make a call. If he offered her the phone, she might have called an attorney. Once suspects lawyer up, they stop talking.”

“She’s clearly not trying to hide anything,” Morgan noted.

“No. She doesn’t look like she’s formulating any grand plan to exonerate herself, but she isn’t answering questions either.”

“She looks traumatized.” Morgan drew more overlapping circles on the yellow notepad.

“But from what?” Lance reached forward and clicked the “Play” button to start the video.