For You
Page 123
“She’s who I think she is, she wasn’t at the funeral,” Colt told Sully.
“Was she big as a house back in the day?”
Colt called her up and remembered her as being passably pretty and nowhere near fat. In fact, she was flat-chested, slim-hipped and almost had the body of a boy. A skinny boy.
“Nope.”
“Bitch is huge now, Colt. Huge.”
“Sully.”
“No, seriously, couldn’t sit in a chair with arms. We had to bring her in one special. Enormous.”
“All right, she’s gained weight, what’d she say?”
“She said she always knew Denny was bad news, he always gave her a crap feelin’. She said she knew Denny raped Amy, told us without us askin’. Apparently, Emily was the only one she told and Amy swore her to secrecy. She said she hates Denny mainly because he raped Amy, obviously, but also because Amy, ‘faded away’, her words, after the incident. They lost touch when Emily moved to Carmel, Amy doin’ it, not returnin’ calls or, if they made plans to meet up, Amy would cancel. Emily eventually quit tryin’ and feels like shit now. She says she remembers the night Amy was drugged ‘like it was yesterday’, her words again and she’s the one who brought it up, I didn’t feed her nothin’. She remembers it because she just knew Denny slipped Amy somethin’. She’s willin’ to testify to the rape or anything we want her to testify to, hell, she’d try to convince a jury she was there when he hacked away at Marie, she’s so ready to testify. She’s pretty pissed Amy’s dead, probably feels some guilt. According to her, she has it figured out and her finger is pointed firmly in Denny’s direction.”
“Hearsay. She won’t help much.”
“Corroborate the note Amy wrote, should we need to use it.”
This was true.
“Also got a hit on the Audi,” Sully went on.
“Yeah?”
“Boys went over it, nothing there, totally clean, ‘cept it was so clean they figured he’d had it done professional-like so they did the rounds. Hit on a valet service on the other side of Indianapolis, out of his way, not close to here, not close to Cheryl.”
“Thinks to put us off the scent,” Colt noted.
“Yeah, ‘cept the Feds are persistent, they needed to, they’d check every professional car wash from here to Louisville, up to Chicago, over to Springfield and across to Cincinnati if they had to.”
“So they found something?”
“Yeah, man. He’d done a job on it himself but, as you could imagine, they found blood and not a little of it. They remembered it and were freaked by it but he gave them the same ole with the whole, ‘I’m Lieutenant Colton’ business, flashed a badge and told them he’d been injured in the line of duty or some crap.”
Colt felt his jaw grow tight before he stated, “That shit’s gettin’ old.”
“I can imagine,” Sully muttered, feeling his pain, then went on. “Identified him in a photo. Evidence is washed away but witness who cleaned is willin’ to testify to what he saw, or, more to the point, cleaned.”
“At least it’s somethin’.”
“We got more.”
Colt looked at his friend and Sully continued.
“Feds had some expert compare the note Denny sent to Amy and some writing we found at his house and the writing on the back of the high school note from Angie to Feb. Denny wasn’t bein’ so careful years ago when he sent his threat to Amy after she fell pregnant, he wrote it out long hand. Expert says all the writing matched. They’re sendin’ the glass from the frame to be analyzed.”
“He goes to trial, we’re not tryin’ him for rape, Sully.”
“Just fittin’ the puzzle pieces together and they’re all formin’ one picture.” Colt just stared at him and Sully asked, “You want more?”
“You got it?”
“Yeah, or, Chris got it. He went to Skipp’s, pickin’ up somethin’, who knows what, Chris is always workin’ on his house. He saw that Skipp carries three different kinds of hatchets, two types of axes. One of the hatchets looks real familiar to Chris so he asks Skipp about the hatchets and Denny. Skipp, now, this’ll surprise you, the old fart keeps everything. Every invoice for every nut and bolt he’s sold since 1977 when he opened the shop. All organized, all at hand. Skipp remembers Denny, as you would, a man in expensive clothes buyin’ a bunch of hatchets. He starts sortin’ through his little file drawers and pulls out the invoices. Four different trips, Denny bought all three hatchets and both axes. One of those hatchets, same make as the one found in the alley by Angie’s body. None of the remaining was found in the house.”
“He took ‘em with him.”
“Did Miller with one of ‘em, I reckon.”
“Any way Skipp can trace the hatchet in evidence to his shop?” Colt asked.
Sully shook his head. “But, with all the rest of it, a defense attorney would have a helluva job passin’ that off as coincidence, ‘specially if the other four are recovered and that one’s missin’.”
This, fortunately, was true.
Sully took in breath through his nostrils and then said, “Now I got some bad news.”
Colt slowly closed his eyes before he opened them and asked, “And that would be?”
“Monica Merriweather.”
“Fuck,” Colt clipped, he knew what was coming.
“She heard news of Pete, wasn’t hard to put that together with Angie and then snoop around and find Butch. Not to mention Marie and rumor flyin’ around. She came in today too, askin’ questions. The Feds are pissed. They’ve kept the media from linking these cases and they don’t want it out. The idea of some irritatin’ woman who thinks she’s Woodward and Bernstein and works for small town weekly paper breakin’ this story has them in fits.”
“You talk to her?”
Sully nodded but said, “She wants to talk to you.”
Colt leaned back deep in his chair, pointed his face to the ceiling and put both his palms to his forehead.
Only person Sully couldn’t sweet talk or swing to his way of thinking was Monica Merriweather. That was because, if she asked and was persistent enough, she could get to Colt and she liked getting to Colt. She also liked getting into his space and touching him a lot. When he first met her, he thought she was just a toucher. Later, when he saw her around other people, he noticed she saved that just for him.
“Was she big as a house back in the day?”
Colt called her up and remembered her as being passably pretty and nowhere near fat. In fact, she was flat-chested, slim-hipped and almost had the body of a boy. A skinny boy.
“Nope.”
“Bitch is huge now, Colt. Huge.”
“Sully.”
“No, seriously, couldn’t sit in a chair with arms. We had to bring her in one special. Enormous.”
“All right, she’s gained weight, what’d she say?”
“She said she always knew Denny was bad news, he always gave her a crap feelin’. She said she knew Denny raped Amy, told us without us askin’. Apparently, Emily was the only one she told and Amy swore her to secrecy. She said she hates Denny mainly because he raped Amy, obviously, but also because Amy, ‘faded away’, her words, after the incident. They lost touch when Emily moved to Carmel, Amy doin’ it, not returnin’ calls or, if they made plans to meet up, Amy would cancel. Emily eventually quit tryin’ and feels like shit now. She says she remembers the night Amy was drugged ‘like it was yesterday’, her words again and she’s the one who brought it up, I didn’t feed her nothin’. She remembers it because she just knew Denny slipped Amy somethin’. She’s willin’ to testify to the rape or anything we want her to testify to, hell, she’d try to convince a jury she was there when he hacked away at Marie, she’s so ready to testify. She’s pretty pissed Amy’s dead, probably feels some guilt. According to her, she has it figured out and her finger is pointed firmly in Denny’s direction.”
“Hearsay. She won’t help much.”
“Corroborate the note Amy wrote, should we need to use it.”
This was true.
“Also got a hit on the Audi,” Sully went on.
“Yeah?”
“Boys went over it, nothing there, totally clean, ‘cept it was so clean they figured he’d had it done professional-like so they did the rounds. Hit on a valet service on the other side of Indianapolis, out of his way, not close to here, not close to Cheryl.”
“Thinks to put us off the scent,” Colt noted.
“Yeah, ‘cept the Feds are persistent, they needed to, they’d check every professional car wash from here to Louisville, up to Chicago, over to Springfield and across to Cincinnati if they had to.”
“So they found something?”
“Yeah, man. He’d done a job on it himself but, as you could imagine, they found blood and not a little of it. They remembered it and were freaked by it but he gave them the same ole with the whole, ‘I’m Lieutenant Colton’ business, flashed a badge and told them he’d been injured in the line of duty or some crap.”
Colt felt his jaw grow tight before he stated, “That shit’s gettin’ old.”
“I can imagine,” Sully muttered, feeling his pain, then went on. “Identified him in a photo. Evidence is washed away but witness who cleaned is willin’ to testify to what he saw, or, more to the point, cleaned.”
“At least it’s somethin’.”
“We got more.”
Colt looked at his friend and Sully continued.
“Feds had some expert compare the note Denny sent to Amy and some writing we found at his house and the writing on the back of the high school note from Angie to Feb. Denny wasn’t bein’ so careful years ago when he sent his threat to Amy after she fell pregnant, he wrote it out long hand. Expert says all the writing matched. They’re sendin’ the glass from the frame to be analyzed.”
“He goes to trial, we’re not tryin’ him for rape, Sully.”
“Just fittin’ the puzzle pieces together and they’re all formin’ one picture.” Colt just stared at him and Sully asked, “You want more?”
“You got it?”
“Yeah, or, Chris got it. He went to Skipp’s, pickin’ up somethin’, who knows what, Chris is always workin’ on his house. He saw that Skipp carries three different kinds of hatchets, two types of axes. One of the hatchets looks real familiar to Chris so he asks Skipp about the hatchets and Denny. Skipp, now, this’ll surprise you, the old fart keeps everything. Every invoice for every nut and bolt he’s sold since 1977 when he opened the shop. All organized, all at hand. Skipp remembers Denny, as you would, a man in expensive clothes buyin’ a bunch of hatchets. He starts sortin’ through his little file drawers and pulls out the invoices. Four different trips, Denny bought all three hatchets and both axes. One of those hatchets, same make as the one found in the alley by Angie’s body. None of the remaining was found in the house.”
“He took ‘em with him.”
“Did Miller with one of ‘em, I reckon.”
“Any way Skipp can trace the hatchet in evidence to his shop?” Colt asked.
Sully shook his head. “But, with all the rest of it, a defense attorney would have a helluva job passin’ that off as coincidence, ‘specially if the other four are recovered and that one’s missin’.”
This, fortunately, was true.
Sully took in breath through his nostrils and then said, “Now I got some bad news.”
Colt slowly closed his eyes before he opened them and asked, “And that would be?”
“Monica Merriweather.”
“Fuck,” Colt clipped, he knew what was coming.
“She heard news of Pete, wasn’t hard to put that together with Angie and then snoop around and find Butch. Not to mention Marie and rumor flyin’ around. She came in today too, askin’ questions. The Feds are pissed. They’ve kept the media from linking these cases and they don’t want it out. The idea of some irritatin’ woman who thinks she’s Woodward and Bernstein and works for small town weekly paper breakin’ this story has them in fits.”
“You talk to her?”
Sully nodded but said, “She wants to talk to you.”
Colt leaned back deep in his chair, pointed his face to the ceiling and put both his palms to his forehead.
Only person Sully couldn’t sweet talk or swing to his way of thinking was Monica Merriweather. That was because, if she asked and was persistent enough, she could get to Colt and she liked getting to Colt. She also liked getting into his space and touching him a lot. When he first met her, he thought she was just a toucher. Later, when he saw her around other people, he noticed she saved that just for him.
