First stop near Vero: When I first met Derek Evers at the Indian River physical evidence storage facility I thought he was there as part of Bring Your Kid to Work Day. Turned out he was in his early thirties and in charge of the facility. So diminutive, and so slight, he probably bought his clothes in the boys’ department. Here it was more than twenty years later and, except for graying at the temples and sporting a goatee to force his face to look older, he hadn’t changed much. He certainly hadn’t gained a pound, and he still really needed that belt to cinch in his pants, which puckered around his waist.
“Brigid Quinn,” Derek said warily. At his post, guarding the stacks of evidence boxes, he was always mildly wary without giving an obvious reason, like a librarian always expecting you to tell him your books were way overdue.
“Derek! It’s been forever. How the hell are you?” I didn’t want to come across all King Kong on him, so I didn’t ask him if he’d kicked the habit. But just the same his eyes narrowed with suspicion. The books were way overdue.
“Our business is done. I don’t owe you anything,” he said.
“Our business is never done,” I said quietly. “Hey, looks to me like you’ve been hearing about what’s going on. The Creighton case. What a mess, huh?”
“Seems pretty straightforward to me.”
“No, it’s a mess, all right. Listen, I have someone investigating—”
“I know. Laura Coleman.”
“That’s right! Laura Coleman. She really needs that evidence, Derek.”
“Have you got a written request?”
“Derek, Derek. Don’t waste time. I know William Hench filed the paperwork. First you said you couldn’t find it. Then you said it was destroyed. You can whisper to me, very softly, that you just don’t give a shit and didn’t bother to look for it.”
“That’s not it,” he said.
“Then what is it?” I asked.
“Why do you care about what happens to one man on death row?”
“I don’t, actually. I just don’t like a good person like Laura Coleman to get the runaround from someone like you. It goes against my sense of justice.”
“That hair dryer won’t tell you anything you don’t already know. It won’t change anything. He’s going to die.”
“Look for it. Evidence storehouses are big, but this one isn’t that big. And it’s not like there are vans filled with stuff waiting for you to check in. It’s Indian River, for God’s sake.”
“What if I say no?”
“Well, then we talk about another issue, don’t we?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Yes, I would.”
“You realize if I go down, you go down.”
“Shh. Don’t even talk about it when we’re alone. Derek, I’m sixty years old, and I’ve been living in a gray zone for most of my life. Maybe it’s time I went down for something. Maybe it’s time I stopped trying to outrun my past. Maybe it’s time for both of us.”
Derek took one of those gulps where you try not to look like you’re gulping so the other person knows just how nervous you are. His Adam’s apple, always a little more prominent than most, bobbled. He knew if I talked it wouldn’t just mean losing his stupid job so he couldn’t play video games during the day. It would mean prison time.
“They don’t want it found,” he said.
“Who doesn’t? The state’s attorney because it will cause too much trouble and his caseload is already full? Or the appellate judge who just rubber-stamped the death warrant? Is it laziness, incompetence, or something worse? Or does it even matter who told you to stonewall? Personally, I couldn’t care less.”
“They’ll give me a hard time.”
“They can’t touch you. They wouldn’t dare. Now me, I can touch you. Hard. I made sure to keep my own chain of custody on our little project just in case we ever came to this point. And we’re here.”
“I’ll look for it,” he said.
“I don’t see you looking for it. I see you just standing there.” I looked at my watch. “When do you expect to find the evidence, Derek? Should I wait, or should I come back in, let’s say, an hour?”
“Give me two,” he said, pretending that he had to search that hard.
I let him hold on to this shred of his dignity. That’s how you forge good relationships. “Great. See you in a bit, but call me if you find it sooner.”
I gave Derek my cell phone number, left the facility. Now for the third person on my list.