CHAPTER 10

CAL AND KELLY HUSTLED down the street toward the Pickett County Courthouse in silence. It wasn’t until they’d traveled a block before Kelly spoke.

“I think that went over well,” Kelly said.

Cal sighed as he kept walking. “That probably wasn’t the best idea to confront him right then, but I couldn’t help it.”

“Sheriff Sloan’s absence during that time certainly doesn’t look good. Wonder what he was trying to hide?”

Cal shrugged. “It could’ve been a number of things, but it was something. He didn’t just pop out for a late dinner and lie about it.”

They finally reached the courthouse and hustled up the steps. Once inside, they spoke with one of the clerks.

“Hi, my name is Cal Murphy, and I submitted a records request a week ago,” Cal said as he pushed his driver’s license through the small slit beneath the window.

“Just a minute, Mr. Murphy,” the clerk said. “Let me see if I can find this for you.”

A few moments later, she returned with a file. She put a clipboard into a drawer.

“I need you to sign this form before I can give these to you,” she said.

“No problem.”

Cal signed the papers and returned the drawer. The clerk then placed the file in the drawer and pushed it back to him. He grabbed the folder and started to read it as he walked away toward Kelly.

“Sir,” the clerk called. “Sir!”

Cal spun around and walked back toward her. “Yes?”

“There are eight more folders. Please don’t walk away.”

Cal’s eyes widened as he stared at the files stacked by the clerk’s work station.

“Those are all for the Isaiah Drake trial?” he asked.

She nodded. “That’s what the request was for.”

“Okay. Load me up.”

After Cal collected all the folders, he and Kelly retreated to the archives and began thumbing through the files.

“What are we looking for exactly?” Kelly asked.

“Anything that seems out of the ordinary, but let’s write down all the names of everyone we come across. People on the witness stand, people mentioned by the witnesses. We need all the leads we can to create a picture of what was going on back then. The newspaper reports only reveal so much.”

Cal flipped open his file folder that had copies of documents for all the legal proceedings, including the prosecution’s witnesses. He scanned the list of names, recalling everyone until he landed on the final name: Devontae Ray.

“Skim through these reports and see if you can find the name Devontae Ray,” Cal said as he handed half the remaining folders to Kelly.

“Isn’t that the guy in the wheelchair?” she asked.

“That’s the one. I don’t remember hearing his name until we got here, so I don’t think he was ever called.”

“That’s curious.”

Cal took a deep breath. “Yeah. Why didn’t they call him?”

“Maybe he wasn’t necessary. Not everybody on the witness list gets called. He could’ve been more of a liability at the end of the trial if the prosecution felt like they had it. And they could always call him again if they appealed the ruling.”

“Good point. But it still seems odd to me. To peg Drake with a first degree murder charge, they needed to prove his guilt several times over without any doubt.”

Kelly nodded. “Like I said, maybe they already proved that during the trial and felt like his testimony wasn’t necessary.”

“You could be right, but I think this is a question we need to pitch to Hal Golden, Esquire, not to mention a dozen other burning questions I have for him.”

“Hal Golden—was that the prosecutor in the case?”

“That’s the one.”

“And how exactly are we going to do that? He doesn’t live around here, does he?”

Cal shook his head and smiled. “How do you feel about a road trip to historic Savannah?”