CHAPTER 15

CAL AND KELLY ENTERED the Pickett County Sheriff’s Office with a sense of purpose. While Cal liked small town life, he detested the corruption and power trips that often accompanied the people holding the most influential positions. His early assessment of the Susannah Sloan murder investigation was that it was amateurish, refusing to delve into the multiple possibilities. For that reason alone, Cal thought Drake deserved another trial. Drake certainly appeared guilty, but the sheriff’s office could have chased down more potential killers to eliminate all doubt. As it stood, the sheriff’s ham-fisted approach satisfied the burden of proof for the jury of Drake’s peers in Pickett County, and Cal found that difficult to fathom.

“Betty,” Cal said, “I need to talk with Sheriff Sloan.”

Studying a clipboard in front of her, Betty didn’t move. “He’s not available, Mr. Murphy,” she said. “He’s in a meeting until—”

“I’ll handle this,” Sloan snapped as he entered the reception area, interrupting Betty’s rehearsed spiel. He eyed Cal. “What do you two want again?”

“I want to talk with you about this murder investigation, maybe get a few questions answered,” Cal said.

“Haven’t we already been over this? This case was solved more than a decade ago. We don’t need to rehash it when a group of Isaiah Drake’s peers heard all the evidence and found him guilty. And I certainly don’t care for you to waltz into my town and start slinging around accusations, soiling my daughter’s good name. You people are sick.”

“Please, Sheriff Sloan,” Kelly began. “We’re not here to stir up trouble for you. But we do care about a man who could possibly be innocent but will be dead very soon if we don’t do something about it. Now, as a man who cares about justice, I think you can understand and relate to that, right?”

Sloan dug into his left shirt pocket and fished out a toothpick before jamming it into his mouth. He exhaled and looked her in the eye.

“I know y’all mean well and are tryin’ real hard, but I’m not interested in bein’ part of your little witch hunt. We got the right man and he’s behind bars, scheduled to be executed soon. And the sooner it happens, the easier it’ll be for this community to move on. We’re tired of the endless stream of reporters entering our town and tryin’ to find answers that have already been rehashed dozens of times. If you think you’re the first reporters to visit Pickett and put forth some new theories about who murdered Susannah, you’re sorely mistaken. We’ve heard them all countless times, and we’re tired of ‘em.”

Cal put his hands up. “Sheriff, Sheriff. Nobody here is trying to cast you in a poor light. Quite frankly, if it was my daughter, I don’t know if I could do what you did and refrain from exacting justice. But I just can’t help but wonder if there are other possibilities, possibilities that you didn’t consider for whatever reason.”

“We did our job, Mr. Murphy. And we did it so well, we even got a conviction—and it’s the kind people around here appreciated.”

“All I’m saying is that maybe, intentional or not, you buried the truth . . . and now you’re going to bury an innocent man. Have you ever considered that possibility?”

Sloan narrowed his eyes and fixated his gaze on Cal.

“You big city newspaper reporters come down here to our little town and think that solving a murder is as easy as goin’ for a jog in the mornin’. As easy as pickin’ up one foot and puttin’ the other one down. Well, let me tell you one thing, Mr. Murphy, when there’s a murder like this, especially a high-profile one, you’re tryin’ your darndest to solve a crime while everyone else is breathin’ fire down your neck. The DA wants updates. The media wants update. Hell, the governor called me for updates. Everybody wants it to go away as quickly as possible so they can get on with their lives. And in this case, I was right there with ‘em.”

Cal caught a glint of a tear in Sloan’s eye.

Sloan continued. “I wanted it all to go away. My little girl was gone, and there was nothing I wanted more than to be left alone so I could grieve. All your questionin’ does is rip scabs off wounds that I thought were healed a long time ago.”

“I understand, Sheriff. I’m simply trying to answer all the questions I know my editor will ask as well as our curious readers. This piece has to be as comprehensive as it is conclusive.”

Cal exhaled and restrained himself from asking Sloan why he signed out of the office between the coroner’s estimated time of death that night that Susannah was murdered. This wasn’t the time to press Sloan again on his questionable actions. Cal watched Sloan cast a nervous glance at Betty.

“Look, Sheriff, if you didn’t get a conviction on Isaiah Drake, who would you have gone after next? In your mind, who was the next likely suspect?”

Sloan slid the toothpick between his lips forward and took a deep breath. “Ain’t no doubt in my mind who I would’ve gone after next.”

Cal refused to wait for Sloan to give him a long and drawn out explanation. “Who would you go after then? Who’d be your next prime suspect?”

Sloan sighed and shook his head. “I would’ve gone after Jordan Hayward.”