By morning the press had a field day with rumors and department leaks as well as speculations from security guards Gary had worked with. The press had a difficult time deciding where to camp, either at the police station or at the Morning Glory Clinic.
Tamara Rios came out of her catatonic state at eight in the morning without any recollection of the bus incident nor did seeing a photo of Gary Staples spark any revelations.
The case was at an impasse.
“Now what?” Sam asked. “The mayor is all over the air waves affirming how his campaign donor, Collin Revere, and his son had been a scapegoat regarding Donna’s murder. Making sure the public knows of their innocence is all he cares about, not about Gary’s victims.” She placed her tote bag on the corner of Jake’s desk.
Robinson eyed the elevator at the opposite end of the room. “If Staples walks, the press is going to keep demanding answers. The front page is full of those ladies’ photos. Speaking of which.”
Forrest Johnson emerged from the elevator and charged across the room toward the captain. “Is it true? You arrested the guy who killed my wife?”
“Take a deep breath, Forrest.” Robinson waved him over. “Why don’t you take a seat in my office.”
But Forrest was too agitated to sit. “Are you going to be able to make him pay? Will the charges stick? The newspaper articles say the police don’t have enough evidence.”
Sam placed her hand on his arm. “Forrest, calm down.”
“Calm down?”
There was a commotion by the desk sergeant as two police officers escorted Gary and a woman from the elevator. Sam glared at Gary, daring him to try his gaze on her again. All he did was nod and smile at her. She felt her tote bag move but before she could grab it, Forrest already had her Taurus in his hand and was moving toward the elevator.
“YOU KILLED MY WIFE.”
“Forrest, no,” Sam yelled. Within seconds, drawers housing guns had been opened and weapons leveled at Forrest. “Stop.” But Jake grabbed her before she could place herself in harm’s way.
Robinson approached instead. “Forrest, give me the gun. You don’t want to do this.”
Gary broke into a grin as his lawyer remained standing, face stern. Gary held his hands out, palms up, as if to say, take your best shot.
“Forrest.”
“Stay back, Captain.” The gun shook in Forrest’s hand. “He killed my Marti. I don’t know how he did it, but he did it.” Tears streamed down his face as he grasped the gun with both hands. There was anger and hatred in his eyes and Sam wasn’t sure he would listen to reason.
“Think of Savannah, Forrest. You yourself told me that was one thing Marti never wanted—to see her little girl shuffled from foster home to foster home, the way both of you were. What will happen to Savannah if you’re in jail?” Robinson was close now. He held his left hand up to motion to his officers to hold off. Then he reached out and placed a hand on Forrest’s arm. “Give me the gun, son. Think of Savannah.”
Slowly Forrest lowered the gun, then broke down sobbing. Gary smirked. Sam wanted to wipe that smirk right off of his face. Once Forrest was sequestered in Robinson’s office, the officers escorted Gary and his young attorney to the interview room.
“Why does he have a female attorney?” Sam asked. “If this goes to trial, he shouldn’t even have a female on the jury.”
Robinson handed Sam her gun as he heaved a sigh. “Lucky you didn’t have a clip in there.”
“It’s in my purse, just not in the gun.” Sam pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number.
Jake asked, “Who’s the attorney?”
“Ain’t no way Gary is going to put his spell on her,” Frank said. “She’s one of those ACLU civil rights lawyers. I think her name is Biddle or Kiddle something.” The attorney was a fireplug, short and compact but moved with long strides, almost marching rather than walking. Gary followed behind dutifully. They watched as Gary and his attorney disappeared behind a door. The two officers remained outside the room.
Sam ended her call and walked over to Robinson’s office. Forrest had his back to the door but Sam could see his back heaving as his sobs continued. “I called my therapist. He’s going to come over and talk to Forrest.” Robinson nodded and Sam made her way over to Forrest, pulled a chair over and sat down. “Who’s Savannah with this morning?”
Forrest pressed a handkerchief to his eyes and took several deep breaths. There was little anyone could do to console him. “She’s at the day care. Savannah has taken a real liking to this older black lady, she’s a former teacher, I think.”
“Viola Williams. She and her niece were going to move there. Yolanda was supposed to work with Trina.”
“She just started. Savannah really likes them both. Couldn’t believe she sat still for an hour while Yolanda but those beads in her hair. Savannah loves to shake her head back and forth and listen to the beads clink.” Another sob escaped and Forrest tried to muffle it with the handkerchief.
“I asked a friend to come over and talk to you, Forrest. He’s my therapist and he’s very good. Those support sessions are helpful but I think you need some one-on-one, too. Okay?” Forrest nodded.
Sam left him to his thoughts and returned to Jake’s desk. “I have a very unsettling feeling.”
“Me too.”
“About what?” Frank asked. “Is there something I’m not getting?”
Robinson joined their little cluster. “What isn’t anyone getting?”
Jake said, “We may not have evidence on Gary, but we also don’t have solid evidence on Revere and Bordeau. If Gary’s goal was to ruin them, he didn’t succeed.”
“He may have put a cloud of suspicion over their clinic, but pretty soon people will forget and business will keep booming. No.” Sam studied the closed conference room door, wondering what they could be talking about. “He has something up his sleeve. I could see it in his eyes.”
The door to the conference room opened and Miss Fireplug emerged. Sam asked, “Has Gary used a phone since he’s been here?”
“No,” Frank replied. “Lois Biddle is like an ambulance chaser and volunteered her services. So Gary hasn’t made any phone calls.”
Biddle stomped over to Robinson. “Release my client. You have nothing to charge him with.”
Jake eyed the cell phone clipped to her belt. “Did you let your client use your phone?”
“What? No.”
Jake ripped the phone from its holder.
“Hey!”
Sam was on the phone to Beast before Jake had the phone log up on Biddle’s phone.
“A call was made from your phone two minutes ago.” Jake turned the phone toward the defense attorney. “Did you make this call?”
Biddle studied the list of calls dialed. “I…no.”
Jake pressed the redial button and listened for several seconds, then pressed the end button. “Message only gives the phone number, not the name.”
Sam repeated the phone number to Beast. Within seconds, he had the information. “Gary called Crystal Bordeau’s cell phone.”
“See if he can pull up the number for her residence.”
“I don’t understand.” The attorney turned to Robinson for an explanation. “I didn’t give him my phone.”
“That you know of. He played you, just like he played all of his victims.”
Sam scribbled the residence number on a notepad. Frank dialed the number from the phone on his desk. She could hear Beast pounding on his keyboard.
“The housekeeper said Crystal took a phone call on her cell and left. She doesn’t know where she went.” Frank hung up the phone.
Beast could hear the activity through the phone line. “Hey, Sam. I have a bead on her whereabouts. I just tracked her cell phone.”