FAMILY FALLACIES (The Kate Huntington mystery series #3) (21 page)

Rob held up his hand.
“Don’t answer that yet, Kate. You can’t possibly have DNA results back this
soon.”

“No but we do have a
match, Mr. Franklin,” Jones said. “The old-fashioned way. Color, thickness,
follicle structure. The DNA test will just confirm it.”

“Perhaps, but the
old-fashioned way has been wrong before, as we are now discovering in some
cases where DNA tests are exonerating incarcerated people.”

Jones ignored Rob and
turned back to his client. “Mrs. Huntington, how do you explain your hair being
in Wells’ office?” she asked again.

“I can’t, because I was
never there,” Kate said. She was beginning to get grounded. This was just a
mistake. The lab was wrong, as Rob was implying.

“Whoa,” Rob said. “I
can explain it. I had lunch with Kate, just before going to Wells’ office last
Friday. Her hair must have been on my clothes, and it fell off in his office.”

“How convenient,” Jones
said. “Her hair just jumped across the lunch table onto you. Or are you telling
us that there’s more to your relationship with Mrs. Huntington than just
friendship?”

Rob’s jaw tightened,
but he kept his voice calm. “
My wife
and I have been good friends with
Mrs. Huntington
and her late husband
, for years. As I told you before,
there have been anonymous threats made against her child. She was upset when we
met for lunch.” Resistant to giving these two any more information than
necessary, he let them assume that the notes had been the cause of her
distress. “We took a walk. I had my arm around her shoulders, to comfort her. A
few hairs could have very easily ended up on the sleeve of my coat.”

“Do you have witnesses
to this?” Bradley asked.

“Yes, a restaurant full
of people, and the owner.”

Jones had been mulling
something over. “Mr. Franklin, I think you need to call another attorney to sit
in on the rest of this interview. You are a person of interest in this case
yourself. Your presence in this room is interfering with our ability to
question Mrs. Huntington effectively.”

Rob glanced sideways at
Kate. She was struggling to hide her fear that he would be forced to leave her
in the hands of a strange attorney. That was
not
going to happen.

“My client has the
right to select any attorney she chooses and she chooses me.” He managed to
maintain his neutral lawyer tone, despite his rising anger.

“Mr. Franklin, you know
that witnesses and suspects are always interviewed separately from each other,”
Jones said. “So they can’t feed each other information, or plausible
explanations, like you
just did.
”

“If you try to exclude
me from this room, Detective, I will see that the little gold badge in your
pocket is removed from your possession,” Rob said, no longer trying all that
hard to hide his anger.

“Are you threatening a
police officer, Mr. Franklin?”

“No, ma’am, just
pointing out the consequences should you violate my client’s legal rights.”

Bradley finally spoke
up. “Now everybody calm down.”

Jones sat back in her
chair. “I don’t take kindly to threats, Mr. Franklin.”

“No one does,
Detective,” Rob replied, his voice now deceptively mild. “But I like to warn
people of the consequences of their actions,
before
they act whenever
possible.”

After a brief pause,
Bradley said, in a conversational voice, “Mrs. Huntington, I’ve been wondering
why you were so upset when I came to your house yesterday to get the hair
sample.”

Kate hesitated. How
could she answer that? She couldn’t violate confidentiality by explaining that
she had been shocked to hear Tammy’s name on the detective’s lips, because the
woman was also her client.

She had paused too long.
“I was actually reacting to something else,” she finally said.

“And what was that?”

“I can’t tell you
because it relates to a client of mine and that is privileged information.”

“Not if it’s related to
a murder investigation, it’s not,” Jones said.

“Oh, I beg to differ,”
Rob interjected. “Mrs. Huntington could be sued for malpractice even under
these circumstances, unless you subpoenaed her. And since you have no idea
whether or not her answer is related to this case, I doubt a judge would allow
such a subpoena. I assure you that you would be wasting your time because what
she was upset about in that moment is not related to this case.”

“How would you know?
She wouldn’t be able to tell you what it was either,” Jones said.

Rob had painted himself
into a corner, but better him trying to explain it than Kate. “She did tell me
what had thrown her, because she could explain it to me without revealing who
the client was.”

“Then she can explain
it to us the same way,” Bradley said, looking genuinely confused.

“Unfortunately not. I
am truly sorry, Detectives, that we can’t be more forthcoming on this. But we
are already skating on thin ice regarding my client’s ethical obligations. All
we can do is reassure you that the issue Mrs. Huntington was upset about has
nothing to do with your investigation. It has to do with the notes she’s been
receiving.”

“Mrs. Huntington, this
isn’t making any sense,” Jones said directly to Kate. “You
could
tell
Mr. Franklin, but you
can’t tell us
why you were upset?”

Rob put his hand up to
signal that Kate wasn’t to respond. “Stop right there, Detective. We’ve said
all we can say on the matter.”

“Well, it does make
Mrs. Huntington look more suspicious, unfortunately,” Bradley said, shaking his
head sadly.

“That is unfortunate,
but we have no other choice,” Rob said in a firm voice. “Could we move on,
please? I, for one, am tired and hungry and would like to go home soon.”

The two detectives
looked at each other. “I think we’ll be requesting that subpoena, Counselor,”
Jones said.

Rob shrugged. “It’s
your time to waste.”

“We need to speak to
Mr. Canfield,” Jones said, as she stood up. “That will be all for now, Mrs.
Huntington, but I suggest that you not leave the area until further notice. If
you do so, we will view that as suspicious and as potential grounds for
arrest.”

Kate started to protest
that Christmas was just weeks away and she was supposed to travel to see her
family, but Rob stood and took a firm hold on her elbow to pull her to a stand.
“No problem, Detectives.”

“We’ll deal with that
later,” he whispered, as he hustled her out of the room.

When Skip saw them
coming down the hall, he jumped up and met them halfway. Kate would have been
okay if he hadn’t wrapped his arms around her. The comforting gesture was her
undoing. She burst into tears.

“Try to stop crying,
Kate,” Rob said quietly out of the corner of his mouth. “Here comes Jones.”

Kate leaned her
forehead against Skip’s chest, using one hand to surreptitiously wipe the tears
off her cheeks. Then she straightened her back, stepped away from him, and
said, “Thanks, Sweetheart. I needed a hug.” After all, it would be natural for
anyone to find being questioned as a murder suspect unsettling, even if they
were innocent.

“We need to speak with
you, Mr. Canfield,” Jones said.

“I’ll be right with
you, Detective. I just need to talk to my fiancée for a moment.”

“Out of the question,”
Jones snapped. “We cannot let you confer–”

Skip interrupted her, a
fake smile plastered on his face. “I was just going to reassure her that our
friend Rose is staying with our daughter and the nanny.”

He gave Kate a peck on
the cheek. “I’m all yours, Detective. Lead the way.”

Once they were all
seated in the small interrogation room, Jones started reciting the Miranda
warning. Balancing his chair on its back legs to buy himself some extra leg
room in the cramped quarters, Skip waved his hand. “I was on the job for eleven
years. I know my rights. My lawyer is present. I’m happy to answer your
questions.”

His body looked relaxed
but Rob was beginning to learn the signs that Skip Canfield had moved from
laid-back to intense. His jaw was tight, his normally hazel eyes a brooding
muddy brown.

Bradley began this
time. “We did check out your alibi this afternoon, son. Mrs. Wingate was happy
to verify it for us. Said to tell you to come by and see her again when you get
a chance.” Bradley gave Skip a man-to-man wink.

Skip wanted to punch
the guy but he kept his face neutral.

“And there wasn’t any
problem with the husband. She informed us that she’d thrown him out on his
ear.”

“So you’ve helped
contribute to the demise of another marriage, Canfield,” Jones said.

Skip didn’t rise to the
bait. “I didn’t cheat on the woman, her husband did. Quite frankly I can’t wait
to be established enough that I don’t have to take adultery cases anymore. They
do kinda stick to your shoe and smell bad.”

“So if his alibi
checked out, why are we here, Detectives?” Rob said.

“Well, that part
checked out okay, but we have a little bit of concern about the rest of that
afternoon,” Bradley said. “See you all are each others’ alibis and yet you all
have a reason to want Wells gone so that lawsuit would go away.”

“Oh come on,
Detectives,” Rob said. “Are you trying to say that both of us are lying to
cover for Kate? You seem to forget that Rose Hernandez was keeping an eye on
her all afternoon.”

“Well, I don’t think
you all are lying,” Bradley said. “But my partner here tends to be more
skeptical than I am. Occupational hazard, I’m afraid, after you’ve had enough
criminals try to bullshit you.”

Jones sat forward.
“It’s not Mrs. Huntington’s alibi we’re discussing at the moment. It’s yours,
Mr. Canfield. We only have your fiancée’s word, and the nanny’s, that you
didn’t go out of the house between the time you met with Mrs. Wingate and when
Mr. Franklin arrived. We timed it. You could make the trip to Wells’ office in
fifteen minutes, blow his brains out and then get back home well before Mr.
Franklin here arrived.”

Skip brought the front
legs of the metal chair back to the floor with a crash. Rob jumped, but to
their credit, the detectives didn’t flinch. “Are you accusing my fiancée of
lying?”

“Now, son,” Bradley
said, “just calm down. We’re not saying that at all. You actually would have
had enough time to do all that and get back before she got home. And we can’t
help but notice that you’re very protective of her.”

Before Rob could stop
him, Skip blurted out, “Of course, I’m protective of her. I love her and she’s
been under a lot of stress lately.”

“Because of the
lawsuit,” Jones said. “So maybe you figured to take out the lawyer and then the
suit would most likely go away. We took a closer look at the lawyer’s case
file. He was suing on behalf of his brother and sister-in-law and was offering
to settle for a paltry amount. And his case was so weak, Mr. Franklin, that you
turned down that settlement. It’s unlikely another lawyer would agree to take
the case.”

“Gotta admit, son,
she’s got a point,” Bradley said. “Lawyer who’s doing it
pro bono
goes
away, lawsuit goes away. And after all the guy was a sleaze bag. It wasn’t like
you were killing someone who actually deserved to live.”

After a pause, Jones
leaned forward. “We discovered you have two other weapons registered to your
name. Bet you never go anywhere without one of those little babies tucked in
your waistband.”

“You are welcome to
check those weapons as you did his .38,” Rob interjected.

“Oh, we will but he’s
had plenty of time to clean them since Friday. You know that, Counselor,”
Bradley said.

“So no one can prove,
one way or the other, that those guns have been fired recently,” Rob said. “I
take it the bullet was indeed too mangled for the caliber to be identified?”

Jones ignored Rob’s
question. “What I’d like to know, Counselor, is if your client here is so
innocent, why didn’t he volunteer to produce those guns as well, when we asked
for the one he was carrying?”

Skip opened his mouth,
but Rob put his hand up. “Those guns are registered,” he pointed out. “Public
record that he owns them, so why didn’t you ask for them sooner than this?
Jury’s going to wonder why you put that off.”

“We thought your
clients were unlikely suspects until the hairs matched,” Jones snapped.

Bradley held up his
hand in a sharp gesture that negated their attempts to imply that he was the
junior partner. “Now Stella, don’t let the good counselor get under your skin.
He’s just doing his job.”

“And what exactly do
the hairs have to do with Mr. Canfield’s alibi?” Rob asked.

“We’re getting to that,
Counselor,” Bradley said. “You see your little theory also works for Mr.
Canfield here. The hairs could’ve been transported to Wells’ office on his
clothes.”

“Again, we’re back to
the DNA test results are not back yet,” Rob said. “And you seem to be
discounting the nanny’s verification that my client was home all day and
evening.”

“Well, now we got a
little problem with that as well,” Bradley said. “Ms. Hernandez was very
nervous.”

“Maybe she was
intimidated into saying Canfield was home,” Jones said.

“As Officer Hernandez
explained, in their country of origin
any
encounter with the police is
likely to produce an anxiety attack,” Rob said.

“Yes, how convenient
that she said that, so we wouldn’t wonder why the nanny was nervous,” Jones
said. “Just because she’s a cop doesn’t mean she wouldn’t cover for her
friends. We heard her talking to her cousin earlier. Who knows what she told
her to say.”

“I’m not even going to
dignify that with a response. I know damned well at least one of you speaks
Spanish.” Rob stood up. “I don’t know about you, Skip, but I’ve had enough of
these people insulting my friends. This interview is over.”