Lost and Found (34 page)

Sam stopped and glanced at the puzzled expression on Harper’s face. “How much of this do you really want to know?”

Harper shook his head as he shut his eyes. “Just answer one question. Is anyone in this room involved in illegal activities now of growing, cultivating and/or transporting marijuana or drugs?”

“No.” Sam spoke for everyone.

“At this point, I don’t need to know anymore. Sam, we’ll talk later.” Harper let out a heavy sigh.

“Let’s go over here to the next one.” Sam scribbled on a third page notes and wrote at the top Lily. He didn’t face Maggie when he continued, but she could feel a powerful ache, like none
she’d experienced, building inside. “We need to talk about this, and I’m sorry if it hurts Maggie, Richard. But when Lily was killed, the car that hit her was never found. We can chalk it up to coincidence. But something about it never sat right with me.”

Maggie’s ears were ringing, and she wondered if the room swayed.

“Are you telling me Dan and Sandra were behind the killing of my daughter, and it wasn’t some random hit and run?” The venom that spewed from Richard rattled Maggie even further. She didn’t realize she’d cried out until Diane wrapped her arm around her shoulders.

“I’m sorry Maggie, but Sam and I always wondered. We have no proof, we checked. It’s an angle we’ve never looked at or talked about.”

Richard paced. He wouldn’t come near Maggie. She recognized his self-preservation—the evasiveness when he pulled into himself. He did that how many times after Lily died? She hated that guy and never wanted to see that part of Richard again.

Sam ripped off another sheet of paper and began scribbling. Richard leaned over Sam’s shoulder reading every word. “Richard and Maggie, your life fell apart. You split up and spent over a year pulling it together, but during that time, Dan disappeared. He left you holding the bag. Payments were due on the houses, you kept building to sell each house, to get your money, so you could pay off the mortgage on this property. You physically buried yourself in building those houses as a way to cope. You weren’t searching out consequences for your actions. The lawyer who handled the sale of each house, divided the amount equally, your half in one account, the other half in an account for Dan. But yet, you ended up having to pay for all the subcontractors and materials because Dan couldn’t be found. You didn’t have the money to hire another lawyer to find and sue him. So you were buried deeper into a financial nightmare while Dan’s building his empire from some hideaway. Then a month ago, he suddenly reappears. Offers you his truck, help him make it disappear, and he’ll give you the $30,000 insurance money. If you don’t, he won’t pay you. You have the bank pounding on the back door. Loans are due. You can’t wait to drag him through court, you’ll be bankrupt and will have lost this house by then, so you agree. But Dan being Dan, screws you. You help him dump truck into the lake. He files a stolen vehicle report with Seattle PD, saying it was stolen on the mainland, but the insurance company won’t pay out for ninety days in case it’s recovered. Then as luck would have it, Search and Rescue discover the truck when they fly over. Divers go down and get the serial number and match it up to the stolen truck. Dan suddenly signs over the truck registration
and gives it to you, and Dan changes his story to the sheriff. But then you, Richard, help Dan drag the truck deeper into the lake where the depth will safely hide the truck. The divers can’t find it now.”

Sam wrote a big question mark at the top of the next page. “Richard, where did you get the money to pay your loans?” Everyone looked at Richard. And this time, Maggie said nothing.

“We’ve got no more time. Find out where Sam and Diane are.” Harper spoke in a low voice.

Maggie stood in the gallery behind her husband once again in their clown suits. But this time, the courtroom was bigger, packed with people, and had an ominous feel to it. And she was alone because Marcie, for some reason, took Kyla and returned to Las Seta last night.

She raced out of the court room to use Richard’s cell phone. These few days had taken on a spin where nothing went as planned. They’d been unable to track down Jane, and Sam and Diane had beat every bush. Called in favors from every lowlife to find the broad. And when Diane called her social worker friend about Sandra, apparently she’d put in for two weeks’ vacation, and no one knew where she’d gone.

She hurried outside and shivered in her thin black blazer
and her black skirt that fell to just above her knees, teetering on her three inch heels. And dammit, as she glanced down, her stocking had a run from her ankle to mid-calf. “Shit, voicemail. Sam, where are you? It’s Maggie. Harper sent me out to find you. Court’s about to start. What do I tell Harper?” She hung up wondering why she carried on so. She was frustrated and wanted some answers. She hurried back in, turning the phone to vibrate.

Even yesterday when Jean phoned, she’d been short, half expecting her to ask for help with Angie. But Maggie couldn’t help her, not now. So she was glad, happy, to hear Angie had found a place and was moving. With Dan now dead, she no longer had a way to sue him. Everything he owned now was in probate, and unfortunately, Dan’s mother was upholding the eviction. And it was unlikely Angie would see a dime of her money. Even in death, Dan was still screwing people.

The clerk outside the courtroom shook his head when she tried to get in. “Court’s about to start.”

“That’s my husband on trial. I was sent out by our lawyer, Harper Lee, to make a call. Please let me in, he needs me,” she pleaded. And her sincerity must have seemed genuine, because the tall stalky guy in the uniform opened the door a crack and peaked in. “Okay, go on in.”

She hurried to the front bench seat, and this time, had to climb over a few spectators and ask one who’d taken her spot to make room.

The clerk announced the arrival of the judge. Everyone rose. She reached forward, tapped Harper, and shrugged. Richard met her gaze and squeezed her hand, and she knew he was worried. Hell, she was worried even though they had the best damn lawyer on the west coast.

The gavel cracked, and Maggie sat. The same good looking DA who’d been at the arraignment stood up and approached the jury, questioning juror one in the jury selection process, and the entire time, Maggie kept glancing at the door as the knots twisted tighter. Her pocket vibrated. She shoved her hand inside and glanced at the screen and text.
Found her, on our way now
.

Maggie leaned forward and tapped Harper’s shoulder and showed him the text.

Harper stood. “Excuse me, your Honor, we must respectfully interrupt. We must request a brief recess as my investigator…” The court room doors opened, Sam hurried in alone and nodded in a way that had her releasing a sigh.

The judge, a gray headed overweight gentleman frowned. “Mr. Lee, are we interrupting you?”

The DA shouted and glared at Harper as if he’d been wronged in some way. “Your Honor, I’m in the middle of questioning a juror, this is highly inappropriate. We’ve just started.”

“My apologies to the DA, and I beg the court’s indulgence. I’m sure the DA is going to want to hear that my investigators have just uncovered a witness and evidence that will clear my client of these charges and save the state the expense of taking an innocent man to trial. If I could request a brief recess and…”

The Judge smacked his gavel, “No, Mr. Lee, I’ll give you ten minutes, and then you and the DA will meet in my chambers with your investigators and this so called witness.”

Maggie was so caught up in the theatrics, she had to push her way to the aisle to catch up with Harper and Richard as both followed Sam out of the courtroom.

Diane stood off to the side with a very attractive blonde wearing a jean skirt, black boots, and a tan jacket and had to be in her early twenties, if that.

“Harper, this is Jane, the young lady who made the mysterious 911 call.” Sam stood in front of Richard. Except it wasn’t Richard’s wrath this blonde bombshell needed to fear, it was Maggie’s. She crossed her arms as the slim lady with a body and face that could have been on any cover girl magazine blinked and took a deep breath as if digging in to stand her righteous ground.

And what she said next had Maggie pushing past Sam and slapping Jane hard across the face.

“I only did what he told me.”

“You lying bitch, you set up my husband for that prick.”

Richard grabbed Maggie and lifted her while taking two steps away from Sam before putting her down. He held her shoulders and she felt sheltered, protected, and treasured. “Maggie, stop, but thank you.” He smirked, and Maggie realized in that moment what she’d done, when her brain caught up to her heart. And she covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed so hard tears fell.

“Okay, everyone have a seat.” Jane, Sam, and Diane sat across from the sterling mahogany desk the older judge sat behind. The DA and Harper stood just behind them in the cozy warm chambers decorated in reds and browns.

“Your Honor, this is Jane Carter, she is the young lady who made the mysterious 911 call that identified my client, Richard McCafferty, as the man shooting Dan McKenzie.” Harper crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall by the door.

The blue eyed DA stood beside Harper, and for once, didn’t object.

Jane sat straight up in her chair, not a slouch nor remorse appeared on any part of her. Sam and Diane both stared at her as if they’d rehearsed some part. “Jane, will you please tell the judge what you told us?”

She breathed deeply through her nose, but not in a scared way. “It was a joke really. Dan told me to call 911 and say I saw Richard with a gun, say I saw him shoot Dan. I just did what Dan asked.”

The DA strode toward Diane and leaned on the judge’s desk. “Dan McKenzie told you to call 911 and make a false statement?” he yelled and slammed his fist on the side of the judge’s desk.

“Yes.”

“So you didn’t see Richard McCafferty and Dan McKenzie arguing or see Richard pull out a gun and shoot Dan McKenzie?”

“I’ve seen them argue many times. But not that night.”

“Jane, please tell the judge and the DA what you told us about the night you called 911 and where you called from.” Diane gently motioned with her hand as she spoke slowly and clearly.

“I called from Sequim outside the downtown sports bar. I’d had a few drinks…and well, my sister Sandra was there. I used her cell phone. I’d talked to Dan earlier in the day. He called me and told me how Richard had jammed him up. Richard owed him money, and after everything he’d done to help Richard and Maggie after their daughter was killed. Well, it just didn’t seem right. He said Richard put their housing project in jeopardy with his erratic behavior, and Dan was putting out all the money to the tradespeople for materials and having to constantly play peacekeeper and repair all the bridges Richard burned with all the tradespeople. Dan’s my
friend, and he asked me for help. He just wanted to scare Richard to get him to back off. Give him a reality check. Dan tried to buy Richard out, and Richard refused to sell to him. The man just wasn’t being reasonable. What else was Dan to do?”

“Do you understand you can go to jail for what you did? For God’s sake woman, the man was charged with murder.” The judge had said nothing until now.

For the first time, Jane flushed and fidgeted with her fingers. “I didn’t know it had gone that far. I didn’t know Dan had really been killed. I’ve been in Portland with my sister since I made the call.” Tears streamed down her face. “I loved him. You know he wanted to marry me?”

Sam stared at Jane as if she’d suddenly changed the script—as if she’d lost her mind.

“Well this doesn’t change the state’s case your honor. There’s still the matter of the video that shows Richard McCafferty dragging Dan’s body from the crime scene. So we’re still prepared to proceed.”

Sam cleared his throat and glanced at Diane. “Your Honor, the tape has been altered. My FBI crime lab technician will swear to this and can show the court how Richard McCafferty’s face was pasted into the frame. The DA is aware of this already and they’ve been unable to provide the original copy of the tape. The DA was supposed to have their own technicians look at the video.”

“Is this true, Mr. Hamilton?”

“Your Honor, our technicians are backlogged at the moment and haven’t had a chance to confirm or deny the defense’s theory.”

Harper strode back and forth at the back of the room. “Your Honor, the state has no case. I’m requesting the state drop charges against my client. Their so called evidence, the 911 tape, here’s your 911 caller, and you’ve just heard her. And the video—come on, I’ve flimsier excuses from a high school student on why he didn’t get his homework done. What other evidence do they have? There’s no murder weapon. My client was home with his wife and child all evening.”

Rick Hamilton squared both shoulders and shook his head. “Your Honor, there is motive.”

“But no body.”

“The lab matched the blood type to Dan McKenzie’s medical records.”

“You’re seriously going waste taxpayers money on a witch hunt when you know my client didn’t kill Dan McKenzie. We just produced the 911 caller who’s admitted she lied, and
the whole dramatic call was orchestrated by Dan McKenzie. The video is also not genuine. What’s your agenda here, or should I say Fred White’s agenda? Something personal, send an innocent man to prison? What other false evidence is suddenly going to appear that we’ll once again prove to be false?”